'cause i don't do too well on my own

Beth played her guitar and sang intermittently for a while, until her anxiety felt like it had reached a more manageable level. The music had certainly helped to stop her hands from shaking, and her wrist was no longer itching or aching. Of course, she couldn't push the worry out of her head quite so easily. It found its way back quickly and demanded her attention. So she got up and set about preparing dinner in the hopes that it would distract her and that, by the time Daryl and Malachi got home, she would feel better and the nausea would subside.

She turned on the TV and left it on a music channel, half-listening while she prepped and cooked and checked the clock. She glanced at the front door every few moments, anxiously awaiting the boys' arrival. When she caught herself, she couldn't really explain why she was anxious to see them. But she didn't feel like admitting that she was excited to see Daryl. She'd just seen him less than twelve hours ago, after all.

Plus, it made her feel guilty because a part of her knew that she deserved nothing more than to be depressed and overwrought after reading the news article and finding out about the pregnancy. She had no deserved right to continue feeling any sort of optimism considering the circumstances brought about by her poor choices.

And yet, Beth realized she was smiling.

The front door opened shortly after six and soon, Malachi's voice was filling the small apartment. Beth glanced over, still smiling, and met Daryl's gaze. To her surprise, he was smiling, too. She couldn't remember ever seeing him appear so content right after getting home from work before.

Malachi rushed up to Beth and greeted her happily, then ran off to his bedroom at his father's urging. Daryl paused in the hall on his way to join the toddler and stepped into the kitchen to investigate.

"Smells good," he commented, looking around while slowly approaching Beth.

"It's almost ready, if you guys are hungry," she told Daryl, placing a lid over the pot she'd been stirring and turning to face him.

He nodded. "Cool. Jus' gotta wash up and change an' we'll be out here."

She noticed the way his eyes were briefly glancing at her lips. "Okay."

But then he furrowed his brow and asked quietly, "You good?"

Beth nodded and gave him a quizzical look. "Yeah – what d'you mean?"

Daryl shrugged but still seemed to be studying her face. "Dunno. Jus' look… different, somehow. Maybe I'm just tired."

Does he know? She thought, and her stomach churned.

"Maybe. How was work?" She asked, grasping at the chance to change the subject.

"Alright, I guess. Nothin' special," he grumbled in reponse, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Thanks for cookin'."

"No problem," she smiled, though now she was doubting herself and wondered if her own facial expressions were betraying her. "You, uh… tell your buddy that he was right?"

Daryl's eyes seemed to light up and he smirked at her reference, and she thought she could see a bit of a blush in his cheeks. He scoffed. "Hell nah. Last thing Dwight needs is t'hear that he was right about somethin'. I'd never hear the end of it."

Beth chuckled but didn't say anything. Daryl shrugged, adding, "Figured he'll find out eventually anyway."

She opened her mouth to ask what he meant but stopped herself. The timer went off behind her, signaling that the rolls in the oven needed to be checked.

But before she could turn away from Daryl, he was stepping forward and leaning in, reaching out to grab her gently by the arm. And then he was kissing her softly, and she closed her eyes to lean into it.

She could've stood like that longer, kissing him back, but he pulled away and she opened her eyes to look up and see him smirking down at her. He let go of her arm and stepped back, briefly glancing over his shoulder to make sure Malachi wasn't nearby.

"Alright, be back in a few," he muttered sheepishly.

Beth nodded, smiling weakly, and watched him turn and head down the hall to his bedroom, where the faint sound of Malachi's voice was coming from.

Her stomach was fluttering like crazy now, but it wasn't from the parasite in her uterus this time. She smiled to herself while she turned off the TV and finished preparing dinner, beginning to portion it out onto three plates.

She was working on setting the table when Daryl reappeared from the hall, an extremely intriguing look on his face and the vest in his hand. Beth looked up and smiled, wondering why he wasn't getting ready for dinner, then she saw the vest and blinked. She'd already forgotten about it, and the anticipation she'd had for Daryl's reaction had even slipped her mind. But now she smiled again and watched him holding the vest up in his hands, staring at her quizzically.

"Where'd you find this?" He asked, and Beth thought he sounded a bit baffled.

She shrugged, expecting a sheepish "thanks" at most. She hadn't realized he'd be so surprised. She muttered, "I dunno – came across it at a thrift store today. I just, uh – just thought you might like it."

Daryl was still staring at her with raised eyebrows. "A thrift store? Like, here in the Village?"

Beth nodded and gestured toward the direction she'd walked to find the shop. "Yeah, maybe like… twelve blocks that way…? Why? D'you want me to return it, or – "

Then she saw a small smile forming on his lips and she returned the expression hesitantly. He looked down at the vest again and gripped it in his hands.

She began to ask, "What…"

Daryl shook his head and met her eyes again. "Nah, it ain't that. This – I had this back in Georgia. But it got packed away when I moved and… well, Mal's mom accidentally donated whatever box it was in. I ain't seen it in… five, six years, I think. Pro'lly closer ta seven by now. Goddamn, ain't that some shit…"

He was grinning now as he stared down at it, turning it over and over and inspecting every stitch. Beth was awestruck. She opened her mouth to say something but could only blink in disbelief.

"Still looks exactly how I 'member," he marveled, still smiling as he ran his fingers over the angel wings.

From the look on his face and the way he was admiring the vest, Beth could guess that it meant more to him than just some piece of clothing he really liked and had lost. But she didn't want to ask at the moment.

Should I tell him about that weird-ass dream? She thought. I'd probably sound crazy.

"Well, I guess it stayed nearby," she finally said. What other explanation was there?

Daryl shook his head and looked back at her. "Nah, we were stayin' clear up in Harlem when she donated this. I can't… Jesus Christ, that's a hell of a coincidence. Huh... Small world."

To say the least, she thought.

He continued smiling and Beth said, "Glad I grabbed it. I almost walked right past it. It just… looks like it belongs on you."

He chuckled and nodded, "Thanks. Can't believe that… Man, wait till Dwight hears that one."

Beth raised her brows and he scoffed at her expression, exchanging a silent inside joke and causing her to giggle briefly.

Daryl moved to turn around and walk away, but paused and stepped toward her instead. She froze, a stack of napkins still clenched in one hand, and closed her eyes as he leaned in to kiss her longingly. When he pulled away, she stared up at him with surprise and a sheepish smile.

"Thank you," he said quietly, smirking down at her and pulling his hand back. "Really. Means more'an you know."

Beth nodded. "You're welcome. It's not a big deal. I'm jus' glad you like it."

"Hmm," he grunted, and gave her another nod of gratitude before turning away and disappearing down the hall once again.

Her lips continued to tingle while she finished setting the table and portioning out the plates. She was discreetly smiling to herself again without realizing it. For the moment, she didn't even care about the way her stomach was flip-flopping, or the burning at the back of her throat as the nausea continued to brew like a tiny storm. The food had smelled delicious when she began cooking, but now it was reminding her of the inside of a toilet bowl. Despite that, she laid out dinner and drinks and had the table ready by the time the boys joined her.

Malachi was chattering away about his day with Carol as Daryl helped him into his seat and guided him along with placing a napkin in his lap and the correct way to hold his fork. Beth poked at her food with a fork and placed a couple of tiny bites into her mouth while she watched Daryl absent-mindedly. He settled into his seat and, once he had Malachi busy with feeding himself, began digging into his own food gratefully.

His eyes met hers from behind his shaggy, dark hair and he swallowed a mouthful of food before speaking, "Delicious. Thanks again."

Beth nodded and smiled, but she was struggling with the small bites she was taking. The food tasted bland and dissatisfying for some reason, and she was confused because she thought being around Daryl and Mal would make her feel better. But somehow, sitting down at the table and staring at Daryl over a nice meal was only making her mind race faster with all the stress of the news article and the pregnancy.

And if she looked different now, maybe he knew. Was he going to ask her about it? She suddenly felt very unsure, and she wondered if he could tell what she was thinking from the way he seemed to be studying her face.

I got rid of the tests. No one knows. There's no way he knows, Beth assured herself.

"Ya alright?" Daryl asked after a few moments passed in silence.

Malachi was so preoccupied with his dinner that he had taken a short break from his usual stories and questions. Beth snapped out of her thoughts and realized Daryl was still studying her. She nodded silently and picked up the roll from her plate to tear off another small piece and place it in her mouth.

"Ain't really eatin'. You sick again?" He asked, and she could hear a hint of concern in his voice.

I guess this is the downside of the whole intimacy thing, Beth thought with the slightest hint of regret. Now it's gonna take even more to keep shit from him. Why does he suddenly care so much?

She shook her head and swallowed the bit of roll, taking a quick swig of ginger ale. The nausea was less of an impulse to throw up and more of a constant battle with her own stomach to just accept nourishment and stop making her feel miserable. And she thought if this was what women had to go through for months at a time during pregnancy, then she wasn't sure how anyone had ever made it all the way through.

She was forming a bluff in her head, trying to act and appear convincing while brushing off Daryl's worry. Then Malachi took the opportunity to chime in, still gripping the fork in his tiny hand.

"Yer sick?!" He asked loudly.

Beth's eyes widened and she was sure that some of the irritation from the loudness of the toddler's voice was showing on her face. But she feigned a small smile and looked at him, immediately feeling guilty.

"No, I'm okay," Beth said, and she knew it would be easier to distract a toddler than it would be to distract Daryl. So she added, "How about some reading tonight? I could use some Harry Potter."

Malachi's face lit up and he turned his head to look at his dad expectantly. Beth looked at Daryl as well, and asked, "If Dad says it's okay."

Daryl smirked as he looked back at his son, then met Beth's gaze and nodded. "'Course. Sounds nice."

She smiled and took another sip of ginger ale to ease the building sensation at the back of her throat.

"Only if yer up to it," he added, quickly looking back down at his plate.

Beth watched him for a few seconds before muttering, "I'm fine, I promise."

She saw his shoulders relax at this statement and he met her eyes again and nodded.

"Did you get that job finished today? At work, I mean," she asked, attempting to change the subject and pull the attention away from herself.

Daryl finished chewing the bite he'd taken and nodded, "Oh yeah. Wasn't a big deal, jus' kinda tedious. Couldn't work on nothin' else…"

Then Malachi spoke up once he realized his dad was finished talking. "Um, Dad, did you know – um, did you…"

The rest of the meal was mostly filled with Malachi's chattering. His conversation jumped between several topics, and he asked Daryl random questions all throughout. Beth listened idly, trapped in a silent cycle of pervasive thoughts. When she wasn't imagining Maggie and Glenn in a courtroom, she was imagining herself with a huge, pregnant belly. And handcuffs. And then she was wondering just how good her daddy's lawyer was, and if he'd be willing to represent her after all the trouble she caused.

At one point, her masochistic mind had wandered its way to thinking about Jimmy. What would he say if he could see her now? She didn't really think it'd be anything, in all honesty. He'd chosen drugs and his own narcissism over her a while back. But would a baby have changed things? What if that's what he'd been trying to do? Was he so high that he didn't think his actions would have consequences, or was he looking for that one thing he needed to latch onto Beth for good? …Or was she just grasping for meaning in a situation that was completely meaningless and unplanned?

Shit, she thought. Fuck Jimmy… What would Maggie say? What would she have told me to do?

Something sick and twisted inside her head reminded her that she was carrying the last living piece of Jimmy. But she didn't like to think about that because it only made her feel more nauseous. She hated how easily she could make herself feel sick with guilt.

She could almost picture Maggie's reaction. And something told Beth that her big sister would've never approved of keeping the fetus that Jimmy had invaded her body with against her will.

So what option does that leave me with? Beth asked herself. Even though she already knew the answer.

"You want me ta take that?" Daryl's voice snapped her out of her thoughts and she looked up to realize he was standing next to her, empty plates in his hand while he pointed with his other hand to the plate sitting in front of her. She hadn't taken more than a dozen bites.

"Thanks," she said, and nodded as she sat back to let him pick up the plate and take it away to the kitchen. She was grateful that he wasn't prodding her about why she barely ate.

Malachi hopped up from his seat and eagerly grabbed the empty glasses and carried them to the kitchen to help his dad. Beth could hear him telling Daryl another story while they moved about the kitchen. She picked up her ginger ale and sighed to herself, then went to the bookcase and pulled out the Harry Potter book with a bookmark inside and took it to the couch, setting down her glass on the coffee table and waiting for the boys to join her again.

For a short time, while she read aloud and Daryl's leg rested against hers on the couch, and Malachi stared at her with big, blue eyes and a grin, Beth completely forgot about all the things weighing on her shoulders. Even her stomach had calmed itself for the time being. She stifled giggles when she did dramatic voices for the characters in the book and saw Daryl smiling and gazing at her from the corner of her eye. And a warmth ran through her body when he placed a hand on her thigh and rested back into the couch, a lazy smile still resting on his lips.

Malachi laughed at Beth's impression of Dobby the House Elf and she couldn't hide the grin on her face. Nor did she want to.

At one point, she asked herself, How is it possible to feel so content and miserable at the same time?

They read about three or four chapters before Daryl was nudging her and motioning to the clock, then to Malachi's drooping eyelids. The toddler was still enthralled by the story, but he was visibly fighting sleep, and Beth realized it was about ten minutes past his usual bedtime. She found a stopping point and ended the chapter dramatically, then replaced the bookmark and shut the book.

"Alright, bud, it's time fer bed," Daryl announced, quickly removing his hand from Beth's thigh and standing up from the couch.

Malachi was too tired to argue. He stood up and yawned, rubbing his eyes with tiny fists. Then he walked over to Beth as if it were part of a routine and held his arms out for a hug. Beth felt herself blushing, though she wasn't sure why, and leaned down to hug the toddler tightly and tell him goodnight.

"'Ni-ight," Malachi said, almost sadly.

"C'mon, bud," Daryl placed his hand on his son's back and guided him toward the hallway, then turned back to Beth momentarily. "You wanna watch somethin', or you goin' ta bed, too?"

Beth rubbed her neck awkwardly and shrugged. She wasn't sure how much more stress her stomach could handle tonight, and in the back of her head, she had the nagging urge to hide away and begin seriously researching options on her phone. A part of her wanted to sit close with Daryl and enjoy his presence, but she wasn't trying to feel any more flutters in her stomach. She knew she could only keep the pregnancy a secret for a short time, especially now that Daryl was watching her more closely. And at this point, she was less worried about how he'd interpret her actions and more worried about how he'd react if he found out the truth. So it was a case of priorities by now.

"Think I'll try to lay down," she muttered quietly, and watched his face closely for a reaction.

She saw the shadow of disappointment cross his features but he quickly shrugged it off and nodded. "Alright. Wake me up if ya need anythin'…"

Beth nodded and gave Daryl a tight-lipped smile, then watched him head back to the hall and toward his bedroom with Malachi. She didn't fail to notice that he'd actually offered to have his sleep interrupted for her sake, if need be. But she couldn't give in to her superficial desires tonight. She just didn't have the energy or the capacity to hold more guilt.

That didn't stop her from briefly wondering if he would've kissed her again had it not been for Mal's presence, though.

She returned the book to its place in the bookcase and went to the kitchen to grab the Tupperware containing the remaining gingersnaps, then took them with her to her bedroom. She shut the door and sat down on the bed, lightly snacking on the cookies in the light from the bedside lamp. Her mind was still doing plenty of work to keep her busy, and even though the cookies didn't taste much better than dinner, she forced down two of them and found her stomach thankful for it.

Beth lay in bed and scrolled through her phone, clicking dozens of links and searching all different variations of pregnancy resources and New York state laws. It only eased her for a short time until she came to the conclusion that she wouldn't be able to do a damned thing without some form of ID. And things were looking grimmer and grimmer as she realized she may have no choice but to ask someone for help. Though she wasn't sure who that could possibly be yet. A few possibilities ran through her head, like Clem or Rosita or even Carol – maybe Tara, since she worked in the medical field. But Beth was extremely irresolute, and her anxiety was reaching sky-high levels.

The only thing that really relaxed her at all was navigating through the news websites and finding nothing new about her family. As a bonus, the headlines from Georgia and Atlanta were slowly making their way farther down as newer headlines popped up and outrage about political issues became the forefront again.

Maybe it won't be interesting enough to grab anyone's attention, Beth thought hopefully. But she knew that only time would really tell.

She lay in the dark, beneath her comforter, and darkened the screen of her phone before shutting her eyes. She could hear Daryl's light footsteps in the hallway, and she thought she might've heard him hesitating in front of her door. But he had probably just stepped into the kitchen for a moment. Then she heard him in the living room, and only the faintest sound of the TV drifted through her door from the living room.

Surprisingly, it didn't take long after that until she was drifting off. Sleep welcomed her with open arms, and she was more than happy to embrace it.

But instead of comforting darkness and the slightest taste of non-existence, Beth found herself standing in an unfamiliar room. She was cold. It was dark except for a single light hanging from the ceiling, focusing on the center of the room. Then Maggie was there. And Glenn. And Daddy. All seated right beneath the spotlight.

She couldn't find her voice, couldn't muster the energy to open her mouth and form words. She just stared, wordlessly, mouth agape and eyes brimming with tears.

They were all in handcuffs, sitting in hard, plastic chairs and wearing bright orange jumpsuits. The fronts of the jumpsuits were spattered with dark red blood, and Beth wondered whose it was. She looked at her daddy and saw that his hands were covered in it, dripping pools of crimson at his feet. His head hung low and he wouldn't look at her.

Maggie moved her mouth but her voice sounded distant and muffled by static, like it was coming through an old walkie-talkie. Yet she was right here, sitting just feet away from Beth, hands cuffed together in her lap and an angry expression on her face.

"…Bethy, what did you get yourself into…?"

Beth wanted to argue back, to defend herself. But again, the words wouldn't form. She turned to Glenn and saw the tears on his face, and then he suddenly looked shocked. His expression startled her, and she looked to Maggie again to see her gazing pointedly at Beth's abdomen.

She looked down and her heart skipped. Her belly was huge and pregnant. She could feel a sharp pain in her gut and she nearly cried out loud in pain.

And then she was awake. Her eyes opened and Beth gasped inward sharply. She realized her pillow was damp and her face was streaked with tears. She wiped them away roughly with the backs of her hands and rolled over. The dream was quickly fading from her memory but the pain it left in her stomach wasn't.

She blinked and adjusted her eyes to see that the clock on the nightstand read 2:51. She listened for the sounds she'd fallen asleep to, but the apartment was just as silent and dark as her bedroom now.

Beth closed her eyes and willed her mind to slow again and allow her to fall back to sleep, even though she was a little fearful of having another nightmare. But her body had other plans and refused to let her muscles relax. Her wrist was starting to itch again. She felt another flutter, like a period cramp, and it made her wince – though not from pain.

She stared at the clock and watched the minutes tick by. The faintest images of her family in handcuffs were imprinted on her mind and kept drifting into view before dissolving, like paper in water. It made her chest physically ache. For about ten minutes, she strongly comtemplated picking up her phone and attempting to contact Jesus. She'd even composed the message in her mind, asking him if he could just pass one, simple message to Maggie, no matter how risky it may be. But the logical side of her won in the end.

Her body was restless and her muscles wouldn't relax and lie still. There was an urge deep inside Beth and it was something far more than physical. She fought with it for at least ten minutes before giving in and pulling the comforter off to stand up.

The apartment felt colder than usual, and Beth slipped out into the hall in silence. She navigated the dark apartment, using the dim light from above the stove in the kitchen to find her way to Daryl's bedroom door. It was left ajar and she quietly pushed it open enough to slip inside.

She hesitated just past the doorway, pausing and squinting through the darkness to see Malachi sleeping soundly in his toddler bed. And on the other side of the room, she could barely make out Daryl's motionless form beneath the blankets. Despite her apprehension, Beth's feet urged her forward, and she tiptoed across the carpet without making a sound. Then she was standing at the edge of Daryl's bed, but she wasn't thinking about what they'd been doing the last time she'd been here. All she could think about was how warm and inviting the spot beside him looked, and how his arm was resting across the open spot like he was waiting for her to fill it.

He was facing away from the wall, sleeping in the middle of the bed with plenty of space between the edge and his body for Beth to slip in. She carefully and quietly crawled into the bed, gently lifting Daryl's arm and sliding in beneath it before stretching her legs out and slipping them underneath the covers. She rested her head on the empty pillow beside him and nuzzled her way in closer, until she could feel his body heat against hers.

He had stirred when she'd disturbed the mattress and lifted his arm, but he didn't make any sounds or open his eyes until she was settled in beside him. She closed her eyes and breathed in his smell, finding comfort in it. Then he was wrapping his arm around her a little more tightly and pressing his body against her back and she felt a twitching against her thigh, but he quickly adjusted himself and she didn't feel it again.

She heard him, and felt him, hum contentedly from his throat. He pressed his lips softly against the skin of her neck, planting a kiss before nuzzling his face into the back of her hair and breathing in deeply.

Beth had expected him to say something, or ask if she was okay. But he didn't and that was fine with her. Maybe he really had been waiting for her to fill the empty spot in his bed.

Her muscles finally relaxed in a way that they hadn't been able to in her own bedroom, and her mind slowed. Her breathing steadied and she didn't feel like throwing up for a change. She could've sworn that even her heartbeat had evened out.

His lips were just below her ear again, kissing softly, and he breathed out against her skin, "'S gonna be okay…"

Then she felt Daryl's large, warm hand opening up and his even warmer palm was being placed flat against her tummy, over the thin cotton of her shirt. He pulled her in just a little closer, pressing their bodies tighter together. She swallowed back a knot forming in her throat and leaned into him, his words bringing back the ache in her chest. His hand seemed to press meaningfully into the soft part of her tummy, just above her waistband.

But she didn't have the energy to worry about whether he knew about the tiny invader beneath his palm, stowed away in her uterus. At least, not for now. Everything around her was drifting away and sleep was welcoming her back again.

to be continued…

A/N: The title for this chapter comes from "7 Minutes in Heaven (Atavan Halen)" by Fall Out Boy. I also feel like the song kinda fits the chapter :)
I've said it before and I'll say it again: I'm a total slut for dream sequences. Sorry. And yeah, dudes, Beth totally blames herself for everything. She has a pretty heavy victim mentality in this fic, if you couldn't tell. But it's also one of the things that she and Daryl relate on, at a subconscious level. This was kind of a short chapter, sorry about that, but next chapter will be up in just a couple days! And things are about to get pretty eventful... ;)
Leave a review and let me know what you think! What's your opinion on the decision Beth is leaning towards? Thank you to everyone reading and favoriting and following and reviewing! Y'all are the reason we've made it to chapter 30 :D