Most Wanted

by SquishyCool

Explicit AU: After the godly veil on the Greene Family drug operation is lifted, 18-year-old Beth commits a heinous crime to protect her family. Now she's the only one left free and is making a run for it to New York City. When she meets single dad Daryl Dixon, who just needs a little help covering the rent, she quickly realizes that some secrets can't be kept forever.

59. you're the metaphors i can't create

Warning: explicit sexual content smack dab in the middle of this chapter.

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you're the metaphors i can't create

The rain eventually stopped altogether and by the time Daryl and Dwight returned to camp, the warmth of the sun wasn't making much of a difference thanks to the thick, dark cloud coverage. Beth and Sherry were bundled up in sweaters and blankets, sitting on the log and talking about nothing in particular. Malachi woke up from his nap and spent about an hour with the girls, sipping hot cocoa and talking.

He wound up hunting around for bugs, staying within both women's eyesight. Daryl and Dwight returned carrying two fat rabbits and one of the biggest squirrels Beth had ever seen in her life. Mal was upset to see the animal carcasses at first, but then Daryl and Dwight explained that they would be supper for the night, and that the animals didn't get hurt or feel pain. After that, the toddler was fascinated, leaning in close to inspect the animals and asking if he could touch their fur a time or two. He watched closely as Daryl and Dwight cleaned the animals and prepared them for cooking later, all the while Daryl continued to explain the "circle of life" (with a lot of references to movies like The Lion King to get his point across) and the prospect of hunting for food, as well as respect for the animals they hunted. Beth sat by and watched, too, smiling to herself as she listened to Daryl answering all of Mal's extensive questions. He still didn't seem convinced that the dead animals he'd just seen would somehow turn into edible food, but he would find out soon enough.

Lunch time came around soon after, and everyone sat around the fire to eat sandwiches and talk happily. Of course, the men had plenty to share from their brief time out in the woods. Dwight bragged about killing the squirrel with Daryl's crossbow, only to be quickly reminded that the squirrel was the only shot he'd made – with either weapon. Daryl had, apparently, shot both rabbits with his crossbow. Dwight, however, had missed three "easy" shots with his rifle, and Daryl joked that Dwight had become a lightweight and the one beer he'd had before they left had thrown off his aim. Sherry and Beth sat back and listened, laughing together and shaking their heads by the end of the story. But Beth was still trying to imagine what Daryl looked like when he was hunting with that crossbow. She couldn't help but notice how good he looked when it was on his back.

After lunch, everyone sat on the logs around the fire with full bellies and mugs of fresh coffee. Mal ran around the open area of the clearing, turning over every rock and branch in sight, digging into the dirt with his bare hands and generally making a mess of himself. Daryl let him go crazy after another tick check and repellent refresher, and the toddler's laughs were soon echoing off the trees around them. The adults sat and relaxed, making comments here and there about how watching Mal run around was already making them tired. But they all seemed to be enjoying the mini-vacation away from the city, with no real agenda except to enjoy the outdoors and each other's company.

Which they did – a couple more hours of reminiscing and sharing thoughts and opinions had lulled Beth into a comfortable state. She even caught herself making jokes right along with Dwight and Sherry, eliciting some kind of glint in Daryl's eyes when she looked over at him, smiling coyly. She managed to keep from blushing when he circled an arm around her lower back and pulled her in to sit closer with him on the log. Their log. And every time Mal would run over to them, a cool rock or interesting bug in his hand to excitedly show to Daryl and "Rosie," he would strive for equal amounts of attention from both of them.

Despite a decent night's sleep, a satisfying morning spent fishing, and a whole afternoon of good conversation and good food, Beth still felt a little off. All day. Like there was a tiny, incessant alarm going off somewhere in the back of her mind. She was trying her best to ignore the bad feeling that was trying hard to creep up and settle in the pit of her stomach. She told herself it was the anxiety building up, and that she needed to let go. At least for the day. But she knew it wouldn't be alleviated until she could get a phone signal again and assure herself that nothing major had happened over the weekend.

For now, there was another guilt persistently making attempts to bother her, to cause that aching in her gut all over again. But this one was from the guilt of carrying on her elaborate lie – even as she sat and saw the stark evidence of Daryl's and Mal's attachment to "Rosie Wilson" being laid out before her eyes. Sherry was right: Daryl had fallen for "Rosie." And so had Mal, in a different way. In a way that she knew he would be heartbroken if she suddenly disappeared, or had to leave.

A couple of hours after they'd had lunch, Mal asked for a snack. It satisfied him for another couple of hours, and then he was back at Daryl's side, asking when they would be starting supper. Dwight and Sherry agreed that they were getting hungry, too, so everyone began joining in to help make dinner. Sherry and Beth gathered all the cooking supplies and got a stew started over the fire, while Daryl and Dwight made the final preparations to the meat they'd cleaned earlier and got it ready to be added into the stew.

They moved about the small camping area cooperatively, talking and joking with each other as they worked. For a brief moment, Beth felt nostalgic. It was almost like camping with her family back in the day. Or helping her Momma, Maggie, and Shawn to make dinner in the kitchen of the farmhouse. Except this was a little better, because every now and then, Daryl would lean over and steal a kiss, or flash her a flirtatious smirk. And the butterflies in her stomach would come to life. In return, she made sure to brush her fingers against his any time she handed him something, and she would playfully bump her hip into his whenever she had to squeeze past him. Earning more smirks and coy side-eyes from behind strands of dark, shaggy hair.

I could get used to this, Beth thought, wistfully gazing at the distressed wings on the back of Daryl's vest as he helped Dwight a few feet away. Then she quickly reminded herself, I'd better not, though.

The sun had crossed the sky and was nearing the horizon in the west, still mostly covered by passing clouds. There was a new chill in the air brought in by the arrival of evening, but it only worked to stir up the smells of cooking food that were rising around the small campsite. The cicadas were coming to life in the surrounding woods, their screams beginning to drown out the birds, and Sherry turned on a few more lights in preparation for nightfall. They all sat down together around the fire with bowls of rabbit stew, squirrel dumplings, and dinner rolls. Mal sat right between Daryl and Beth on their log, of course, while Sherry and Dwight sat close together on the other log.

For the first half of their meal, Mal couldn't stop marveling at how the rabbits and squirrel had somehow ended up into their bowls, and how they didn't taste anything like rabbits or squirrels. Daryl reminded him that he wouldn't know since he'd never had either of them before, but that didn't stop him from repeating himself after nearly every bite. For the second half of the meal, Mal grew preoccupied with getting more of the stew into his mouth than onto his shirt, and Daryl reminisced some more about past hunting trips with Dwight and Sherry. Beth was usually quieter when she was eating, refraining from joining in on conversations as she was too focused on her food more often than not. And she was self-conscious of people seeing her talk with her mouth full. It was no different now, though she was occasionally glancing over at Mal and wiping random splashes of food from his forehead while he ate.

Then she realized that the conversation had drifted to another memory: the one time Sherry and Dwight had witnessed Mal having an allergic reaction. Daryl explained that it had been nearly two years ago, and he hadn't known about the allergy back then. He said it randomly appeared out of nowhere, manifesting during lunch at the mall one day.

Sherry recalled how terrified she'd been, but Dwight and Daryl laughed it off. Everything had turned out fine, of course. Mal was happy and healthy now, sitting right beside them, and that was all that mattered. Then Sherry frowned, taking a sip of her water.

"I still can't believe I almost gave him an allergic reaction this mornin'," she lamented, looking to Daryl somewhat apologetically.

Dwight chuckled, shaking his head and wrapping his free arm around her shoulders.

Daryl shrugged and shook his head. "Don't beat yerself up over it. Rosie caught it," he paused and turned his head to look at Beth, and she looked back at him, smiling sheepishly. He smirked and finished, "Good thing ya read the ingredients, huh?"

She rolled her eyes and shrugged. "I don't always read it – jus' had a feeling or somethin'. It was lucky I actually cared about what I was eatin' for once." She laughed lightly and looked over at Sherry and Dwight to see them doing the same.

"Yeah, but yer still a lifesaver," Daryl rumbled, pausing to sip his beer. "Always got an EpiPen on me, but – "

"Well, I really didn't wanna see you use it. 'Sides, those things are like, crazy expensive," Beth finished for him, meeting his eyes again as her smile faded into a sympathetic frown. She could see Sherry and Dwight nodding in agreement as they worked on finishing their bowls of stew.

"No shit," Daryl mumbled, a look of gratitude in his eyes as he nudged her gently with his elbow before taking another big bite of stew. She looked down at her own bowl to hide the faint blush in her cheeks.

"All that stuff is gettin' ridiculously expensive," Sherry commented. "Tina's insulin costs more every month than my rent."

"Costs an arm and a leg ta keep from dyin' if you ain't perfectly healthy," Dwight agreed grimly, accentuating the end of his statement by taking a rather large swig of beer.

They all "hmm"ed together in quiet agreement, conversation lulling as they became focused on the remaining food in each of their bowls. Mal piped up to say he was full, leaving only a small amount of stew in his bowl and nothing but crumbs of the two rolls he'd had. Daryl quickly finished his meal, then went about helping the toddler clean up his mess, taking him to the edge of the woods for a bathroom trip afterward, then to the tent to change into a clean shirt. Beth offered help with cleaning up everything from dinner and putting the cooking setup away for the night.

While Dwight gathered trash and cinched up plastic garbage bags, Sherry and Beth gathered up any leftover scraps of food or stew to pack away. Beth kept glancing back toward the tent, hearing Mal's and Daryl's voices from inside and awaiting their return any moment. She was curious to see which shirt the toddler would be wearing this time. He'd already gotten mud all over his dark blue Paw Patrol shirt, and now he had dirt and food all over his maroon firetruck sweater.

"Speaking of having fallen for someone," Sherry's voice interrupted Beth's thoughts as the two women zipped up plastic bags and buried them deep down in the cooler, beneath layers of half-melted ice, quietly referencing what they'd talked about earlier that afternoon. "I don't think Daryl's the only one you've gotten attached to, huh? You're attentive as hell, that's fer sure. You already act kinda like a parent."

Beth smiled, hoping it didn't look as tentative and awkward as it felt. Then she shrugged and pretended to be looking down at the ice, carefully covering the bags of leftovers and shifting the cans of beers around. "I dunno about a parent. But, I mean – I've babysat before. Kids are easy, 'specially when they can talk an' tell you what they need. An' like I said, the citrus thing was just a lucky coincidence. I ain't nearly as attentive as Daryl."

Sherry smiled, gazing over thoughtfully at Beth. "You don't give yerself enough credit. Might not be a parent, but you seem like a nurturer by nature anyway. Some women are just naturals when it comes t'being a mother. I bet kids always like you."

Beth shrugged, and her smile became a little more genuine. The other woman wasn't wrong– the few kids that Beth had babysat in middle school, mostly close family friends' babies or toddlers, always loved her, always acted like they were drawn to her from the get-go. She didn't know why, but they rarely gave her much trouble. She'd never associated it with what type of nature she had. But she also hadn't associated her and Mal's relationship with anything other than living in close proximity and doing a lot of fun things together. Although she wasn't about to try and deny the fact that she'd grown way more attached to the toddler than she'd ever intended. But that went for Daryl, too. So what was Sherry's point? She sounded like Beth's mom – who had always said the same thing: "You'll make a wonderful mother one day, Bethy."

"I guess so," she muttered, still avoiding the older woman's gaze. "Not sure why. But Mal's not much different. He's actually really well-behaved for his age – compared t'some a the kids I used to babysit."

She wasn't looking for any more interrogation about her very real, very deep feelings for the boys. She knew already. And she was working on dealing with that part. Finding out that it was becoming just as obvious to others was nothing more than an annoying reminder.

Sherry laughed and nodded in agreement. "Oh, God, I know! You should've seen some of the toddlers I had t'watch back in Georgia. There was this one kid and his family was so nice, but they had a huge house, and the day I go over there…"

That was another thing Beth liked about Sherry. She talked about herself sometimes, too, and didn't push Beth to open up or say things that she didn't feel comfortable saying. Beth appreciated that. She didn't know if it was intentional or not, but she needed the break. And sometimes, it seemed like Sherry would start talking to Beth because she could see Beth beginning to clam up or beginning to think about something too deeply. Or maybe Sherry just liked to talk and make new friends. Either way, it worked.

After sharing a hearty laugh with Sherry about bratty toddlers from the past, Beth stood up and stepped away from Sherry and the cooler. Mal burst from inside the tent energetically, wearing a clean shirt – a turquoise, long-sleeved tee with the goofy, bug-eyed chicken from Moana on the front – and running straight for Beth, immediately wrapping his small arms around her legs. Daryl emerged from the tent soon after, struggling to keep up with the toddler.

"Rosie, Rosie, can you, um – I – I uh, I saw," Mal stammered, too excited to properly form his sentence. Beth smiled down at him, patiently waiting for whatever question was coming. "I saw, I think you, um – can you – "

"He wants t'know if you wanna play some music for us," Daryl clarified, approaching behind Mal and smirking at Beth.

She paused, briefly glancing over at Sherry and Dwight. Sherry was still preoccupied with shifting around the beers and leftovers in the remaining ice of the cooler, while Dwight had looked over with an expression of intrigue on his face.

"You gonna play that guitar you brought?" He asked, stepping around the campfire to walk over and join Sherry at the cooler.

Beth shrugged and looked down at Mal, his eager grin and expectant eyes awaiting her answer.

"Yeah, yeah, are you?! Pwe-ease?!" He begged.

She chuckled. "Alright, yeah, I will. But only 'cause you said 'please.'" Her eyes flicked over to meet Daryl's and they exchanged impish half-smiles.

Mal's grin grew wider and he let go of Beth's legs, jumping back and exclaiming happily, "Ya-ay!"

"Oh, awesome, I'd love t'hear you play!" Sherry agreed, shutting the cooler and standing up.

Beth blushed and shrugged again. "Okay, I'll go get it. Dunno if I know any songs y'all will like, though."

Dwight and Daryl shared a laugh as Beth turned and headed toward the tent that Daryl and Mal had just emerged from, and she heard Dwight comment, "Whatever you play, I'll like. Any music is better'an listenin' ta these damn cicadas all night."

She slipped inside the tent briefly to grab her guitar and returned, carrying it carefully and approaching the group again. Mal was running around nearby, back to digging around in the dirt for more bugs and worms and whatever else he could find. His hands and clothes never seemed to stay dirt-free for more than a few minutes. Dwight was reaching into the cooler, retrieving two beers for him and Daryl and a water for Sherry. Beth saw him frown as he stood up and held the beer out to Daryl.

"We're almost outta beer and water," Dwight said. "Gonna have ta make a trip back to the truck fer the other cases."

Daryl nodded, popping open the tab on his beer and taking a swig. "I'll go. Y'all can stay here – if ya wanna watch Mal fer a li'l bit."

Sherry nodded, moving over to take a seat on the log with a wet bottle of water in her hands. "I'll stay an' watch him, no problem."

"Sure you wanna carry both those cases by yerself?" Dwight asked, slightly furrowing his brow at Daryl.

Daryl shrugged and glanced over at Beth. Her heart leapt and she instantly understood the subtle expression on his face right before he looked back to Dwight. "I could use the exercise."

Heart beating a little faster, Beth spoke up, "I'll go with you, babe."

She smiled, looking pointedly at Daryl. She felt her heart briefly jump inside her chest again, unsure of where she'd found the courage to say that aloud. And in front of two other people. But there it was. She'd finally turned it around on him.

Dwight and Sherry didn't seem to notice, though. They shrugged and watched Daryl, awaiting his agreement. He looked back over at Beth and she saw the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, followed by a glint in his eye. He nodded concisely.

"Alright. If ya really want to," his mouth said. But his face said, Glad you picked up on that invitation. And he discreetly arched an eyebrow in her direction.

She felt a rush of excitement and curiosity, as well as warmth in her cheeks, and she quickly turned around and walked over to set her guitar down against the log. When she turned back around, Dwight was taking a seat beside Sherry on the other log and Daryl had moved to set down his beer and quickly snatch up a flashlight nearby, as well as the keys to Dwight's truck.

"Don't take too long – there's bears out there, an' I ain't gonna come save ya if yer pants are around yer ankles," Dwight commented teasingly, eliciting a loud laugh from Sherry.

Beth giggled and shook her head, trying not to be embarrassed at the fact that Sherry and Dwight had already picked up on her and Daryl's little idea. She watched Daryl roll his eyes and quickly walk away from his friends, a bashful half-smile on his face as he called out, "Yeah, whatever!"

He called Mal over and explained that they'd return soon, though the toddler didn't seem very interested and was in a hurry to get back to his hunt for bugs. Then Daryl reached out and grabbed Beth's hand, carrying the flashlight in his other, and they walked together across the campsite and into the dense trees. Her heart thumped harder and harder as they walked further away from the camp and the others. Her palm was already sweaty, fingers interlaced with Daryl's, even though the rest of her body wasn't even close to being sweaty in the chilly evening air.

The sun was quickly sinking below the horizon as they ventured into the woods, and Daryl kept the flashlight trained closely on the path in front of their feet while he gripped her hand. They shared a look here and there, but they were mostly quiet as they walked, focusing on the tricky undergrowth beneath them and the hidden rocks waiting to trip them up. They made the trek a lot faster than the first time, though, without Mal to slow them down.

About halfway through the walk, Daryl spoke, his low voice sounding foreign among the quiet nature noises around them. "Did ya mean t'call me babe, or was it an accident?"

Beth furrowed her brow, reflexively letting out a soft laugh at the question. She looked over to find him studying her, a playful smirk teasing across his mouth. She fluttered her eyelashes in his direction and flashed him a flirtatious smile. "It's not really somethin' you say on accident – is it?"

She momentarily held her breath, awaiting his answer and hoping she wasn't about to find out that his little "babe"s and "baby"s were just sleepy accidents. But he quickly shook his head and smirked, and she felt his hand squeezing hers as he replied, "Nah. It's not."

Beth smiled in satisfaction and went back to watching where she stepped, looking ahead and spotting the edge of the woods approaching a few yards away. They simultaneously picked up their pace the slightest bit, walking quicker toward their destination now that it was within sight. She gave Daryl's hand a light squeeze as they crossed the tree line and stepped out into the small clearing near the dirt road.

Their grips loosened and his hand slipped from hers as they approached the back of Dwight's Ford Explorer and Daryl had to hold the flashlight with one hand and reach into his pocket to grab the keys with the other. Beth stood and waited patiently, anticipation causing her muscles to tense. Her heart was racing much faster than it normally would have after a short trek through the woods.

He clicked a button on the key fob and the lights flashed on the truck, followed by a clicking sound that signaled it was unlocked. Then he stuffed the keys back into his pocket and lifted open the rear door of the Explorer, revealing the mostly emptied storage area that held nothing more than an unopened case of beer and an unopened case of water, both of which were shoved into the corner behind the backrow of seats. The dome light inside the truck came on as soon as the rear door was lifted open, and the light flooded out and across the mud and grass beneath their feet. Daryl clicked off the flashlight and set it down inside the truck.

He wasn't wasting any time – or maybe, Beth wondered to herself, he'd been anticipating this moment just as much as she had. Seconds after lifting the rear door of the Explorer and setting the flashlight aside, Daryl was turning around to face Beth and reaching out a hand to grab hers, pulling her across the short distance between them until she was stumbling forward into his arms. She let out a small giggle of surprise, leaning into his sturdy chest and tilting her head up to meet his lips as he circled his arm around her waist and leaned down to kiss her in one swift motion. Beth grinned against his mouth, and she could feel him doing the same.

Then his tongue was tracing and pushing against her lips, and she quickly parted them to allow entrance. Their tongues met and they deepened their frenzied kiss, Daryl's arm tightening around her and pulling her impossibly closer against him. He smelled and tasted like beer and cigarettes and a hint of the food they'd had for dinner, mixed with a faint musky scent that made her briefly picture him with the crossbow strapped to his back – imagining the way his arms might flex when he held it. Beth wrapped one arm around his middle and grasped the back of his warm neck with her other hand. Within seconds, they were panting breathlessly into each other's mouths, perspiration forming beneath their layers of clothing.

His hand slipped down over her lower back to firmly cup her ass and roughly pull her into him. When he did, she groaned in the back of her throat and he kissed her harder, nibbling softly on her lower lip. He squeezed her ass again, digging his fingers in where her butt met the back of her thigh and roughly pulling her into him again so that her upper thigh brushed against the growing bulge in his pants. She felt his breath stutter against her lips from the friction, and she pressed her thigh gently but purposely against the strained fabric of his jeans. He was so hard that she could feel his cock twitch and stiffen against her leg through both their pants, and his fingers were digging into the fleshiest part of her ass cheek. She grinned mischievously against his mouth and flicked her tongue out to run it across his lips, then bit down on his lower lip and teased his growing cock with her thigh again.

She could feel how impatient he was in the way he gripped her with his hands, and how frantically he kissed her. And how quickly he got rock hard. But she felt the same – desperate, starved, unable to wait another second to feel his bare skin on hers. Hearing his breathy groans and feeling his twitching, stiffening bulge against her thigh was only making the tightness below her stomach build faster, and she could already feel her panties getting damp.

And then Daryl was grabbing Beth by the waist with both hands and effortlessly lifting her up off the ground and setting her down in the back of the Explorer. He didn't break their kiss the entire time, roughly pressing his lips to hers while he pushed her back until she was lying on her back and then scooted her up on the carpet-like interior to hoist himself up into the truck, as well, hovering over her. He used one hand to prop himself up while the other began fumbling between them for the hem of her shirts.

They kissed breathlessly, desperately, bathed in the bright, artificial glow of the dome light above them while they lay in the back of the Explorer, finally releasing two weeks of pent-up sexual frustration with the rear door sitting wide open. Anyone could walk up from the woods, or drive up on the dirt road, at any moment. Though it wasn't likely. So neither of them were worried about it. However, Daryl's bulging crotch and clumsy hands said that he was tired of waiting and being interrupted, and he wasn't about to let that happen again before they both got what they really wanted.

He finally found his way to Beth's bare skin, beneath the three shirts she wore, and roughly pulled them up, along with her bra, to expose her breasts. She shivered when the chilly air hit her skin and made her nipples immediately harden. Then he kissed her on the mouth, harder and longer, before breaking away and planting breathy kisses across her chin, down her neck, over the tender spots on her throat. He scooted back just a couple of inches and rested his weight on his knees, then gently grabbed her small, pert breasts in his hands and leaned down to kiss the soft skin between them. She let out a moan, squirming as his hands massaged her breasts, thumbs flicking over her pebbled nipples, teasing them. His swollen lips left a small, damp trail of kisses between them, and his chin hair tickled her bare chest and sent shivers all through her body.

Then he slipped his mouth across one breast and wrapped his lips around an erect nipple, sucking lightly. She moaned again, wetness pooling between her legs. He let her nipple lazily slip from his mouth before trailing his lips and scratchy chin hair across her bare skin, still massaging with his hands, and then his mouth was on the other nipple – sure to pay equal attention. The combination of sensations was causing Beth's system to go haywire, toes curling inside her boots and muscles tensing with building tension. His hands squeezed her breasts again as he sucked a little harder, and when she let out another moan of pleasure, she felt his cock twitching in his pants against her leg. She could feel her own tightness growing, aching, demanding.

Before Beth could really wrap her head around the shivers, tingles, and chills coursing through her body from Daryl's mouth on her nipples and his hands groping her breasts, she felt his face moving across her skin again. This time, his lips were planting frenzied kisses all over the bare skin of her tummy, quickly heading further south. She hadn't expected this to be his next move, but she certainly wasn't going to complain. So when his lips reached the waistline of her jeans, and his fingers began clumsily fumbling with the button on her pants, she hurriedly helped him to finish unzipping the fly and pulling them down – along with her panties.

Daryl pulled them down to her ankles together, bunched up around her boots, and then swooped back down to resume his original position. As he returned to where he'd left off, trailing sloppy kisses below her bellybutton and around the small, plastic patch stuck to her skin until he reached soft, blonde curls, Beth realized that she'd never had a quickie that involved shoes being left on and oral stimulation for her. A quickie had always meant oral for the guy, or some really brief, usually uncomfortable penetration. But it had never meant this. Though she definitely wasn't complaining. She was getting a whole new kind of rush from the thought of being outside, in the open, in the back of someone else's truck. Admittedly, Daryl had been redefining a lot of things for her lately.

He quickly and silently found his way to her clit, flicking his tongue out to tease the swollen nub. She let out a moan of need, which seemed to be the signal he was looking for, because then he wrapped his lips around it and sucked lightly, imitating what he'd done to her pebbled nipples. She moaned again and her hips reflexively bucked upward, and she felt his chin hair tickling her labia and then his lips were sucking harder, with more intent. A sharp tingle started where his mouth was and shot up through her entire core. She shivered and relaxed when one calloused hand placed itself firmly over her stomach and the other gripped a handful of fatty flesh at the back of her thigh. His tongue flicked out and teased her clit while his lips continued sucking, releasing, and sucking again. She was reduced to shivers and shakes within seconds.

And then his cool fingertip was at her entrance, tracing the damp skin around it, his mouth casually working her swollen, fleshy nub. Her hips bucked up into his mouth and she heard him grunt, his hand tightening its grip on the back of her thigh. Beth bit down onto her bottom lip and stifled an exasperated moan. She inhaled sharply and tried to still herself beneath Daryl's touch, the muscles in her abdomen tensing and flexing as his finger relentlessly teased her waiting entrance. He slipped the very tip of his finger into the juices pooling in her pulsing cunt, only to trace them along the outer edges, teasing her ruthlessly. Her breath hitched in her throat and she let out a long, throaty groan of need.

His lips released her clit and she felt his hot breath on it before she heard his muffled voice. "Goddamn, babe, yer this wet, I ain't gonna last five seconds."

She smiled and let out a breathy giggle, glancing down to meet his licentious eyes staring up at her behind shaggy hair. Before she could attempt to quip back, he flicked his tongue out to circle the pink nub again and her eyes slammed shut, teeth gritting as another moan of ecstasy echoed in her throat and her spine stiffened.

She gasped in a breath and groaned out, "Stop teasing me."

She didn't expect it to be that easy, but it was. As soon as the words escaped her mouth, she felt his fingertip slip over and slide effortlessly inside of her. Her breath caught in her throat and she tensed, then his finger was curling inside her, finding that spot almost immediately, and his lips were wrapping around her clit again. The combination was overwhelming and a wave of ecstasy washed over her entire body. Her hips bucked upward, against his hand and into his mouth. His finger slipped in farther and curled again, pressing against the spot he no doubt could recognize by now. Beth moaned loudly.

"Oh, God, yes…!"

Suddenly, it all stopped. Daryl's finger retreated, slipping easily out of her, and his mouth freed her clit, and then she couldn't feel his chin hair against her labia or his hand on her thigh or stomach. She opened her eyes and looked up with disappointment, but she found Daryl sitting up on his knees, hands working to hurriedly unbutton his pants and slide them down.

When his eyes met hers and saw the confused expression on her face, he quickly explained, "I can't wait any longer – I gotta feel you on me."

A delicious shiver ran down Beth's spine and she smirked, watching him yank his jeans and boxers down together. His erection burst free, the shaft and head slipping out from beneath his boxers and popping up to immediately stick out, long and thick. She felt a twinge deep in her gut and the tightness intensified, and if it was possible, she could feel herself getting even more wet at the sight of his throbbing cock, the wilting tip glistening with precome. She impulsively reached a hand out and wrapped it around the shaft, giving one, then two quick strokes. Teasing him. She saw the muscles in his stomach flex and a shudder run through his whole body as his hips reflexively bucked into her hand.

She opened her arms and eagerly welcomed him in closer, pulling his body close to hers as he nearly collapsed on top of her. He propped himself up with his elbows on either side of her, hastily lifting his shirt to allow easier access to his cock. He positioned himself between her legs and she felt his dick twitching against her inner thigh, leaving a light trail of wetness on her skin. He leaned his head down and kissed her roughly, grunting and letting out a deep relief-like breath through his nostrils as she wrapped her arms around him and slipped her hands beneath his vest and shirt to dig her fingers into his back.

When they pulled away, breathless, he looked down between them and reached one hand down to grab his cock. But she squeezed the chunks of flesh gripped in her fingers and got his attention.

"You come prepared?" She asked, eyebrows raised expectantly.

His eyes flickered with realization and he nodded, pausing what he was doing to briefly sit up and lean back, reaching into one of the pockets of his jeans and pulling out a condom. He ripped it open with his teeth, then carefully pulled it out with his fingertips and gave Beth a knowing smirk.

"I'm always prepared," he said, his voice husky. She grinned and watched him roll the condom on over his erect cock, quickly resuming their previous positions as soon as it was on.

Daryl rested on his knees, his legs pressed close together while Beth's were open as far as the bunched-up pants around her ankles would allow. He rested his weight on one elbow, then reached down with his other hand and carefully guided his hard, thick cock to Beth's pulsing entrance. She was practically dripping in anticipation and with one quick motion, he was sliding inside of her, throbbing head bursting through her tight walls, stretching them open to accommodate him.

Her breath hitched in her throat and every muscle in her body tensed as he swiftly entered her, shoving every last inch of his stiff cock inside her aching cunt. He shuddered on top of her and a groan of relief came from somewhere deep in his throat, his breath hot on her neck and a few strands of shaggy hair tickling the side of her face. She dug her fingers harder into his back, bucking her hips up into his and welcoming him deep inside her, urging him farther.

He slowly and carefully pulled his hips back, pausing for less than a heartbeat before giving a rough thrust up into her. She felt him immediately hit the most sensitive part and let out a moan of pleasure, her eyes squeezed shut. She heard him grunt near her ear, felt his hot and heavy breath on her neck. He slid back, then thrust up and slightly forward again, quickly building a frenzied but steady pace. His breathing grew heavier, as did hers, and she rolled her hips up to meet his every other thrust, letting out stuttered gasps every time her clit found friction against his pubic bone.

"Fuck, I missed this," Beth breathed out, her mouth right next to Daryl's ear.

As soon as it came out, his hips bucked faster and harder than before for three quick thrusts, and she felt his back muscles flex beneath her hands as he grunted.

"Yeah? I missed that tight li'l pussy," he growled, sending an intense round of shivers down her spine. She felt that familiar bubble growing, filling, getting so close to bursting.

He built a steady rhythm, keeping himself propped up over her while he thrust his throbbing cock deeper and deeper into her contracting pussy. Her entire body was swallowing him up, urging him to stick around and make himself at home. Their breathing was coming in short, panting gasps, her fingers still dug into his warm skin. Sweat was forming on both of their faces and necks, and by the way he was obviously restraining himself from fucking her absolutely senseless, she could tell they were both getting close to their climaxes already.

With a few more thrusts, Beth felt the tip of Daryl's throbbing cock pushing and pushing repeatedly against the one spot that made her reflexively roll her hips up to meet his, and then her lips were parting involuntarily and she was panting heavier beside his ear. He thrust harder into her swollen, wet cunt and all her muscles tightened up in anticipation. He was panting heavier, too, jaw clenched as the ends of his hair grew damp from sweat.

"Oh – fuck, babe, right there," she gasped out, assuring him that he could not stop what he was currently doing, her voice noticeably more high-pitched than usual.

He grunted back, putting a little more oomph into his thrusts, maintaining the steady pace of shoving his weeping cock deep into her cunt and pulling it back only to shove it back even harder. He bottomed out a few times, sending a convulsive shudder through her whole body each time. But she only gripped him harder, moaned a little louder.

"You like callin' me that, huh?" His husky, breathless voice filled her ear. "Y'like it when I call ya that."

She nodded fervently, mouth still agape as she tried to process the new rush of pleasure pulsing through her core as Daryl shoved his cock into her over and over and his low growl of a voice nearly brought her to climax right then and there. She couldn't take a full breath because she kept gasping in ecstasy. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she felt the tiny starbursts of sensation beginning to explode just behind her clit every time it gained friction from Daryl's pubic bone and his cock made contact with her G-spot at the same time.

"Y-yeah – I like it," she panted, a light squeal escaping her lips. "I – yes, ah, I missed your cock, babe."

This made him buck his hips into her harder, shove his cock even deeper inside her, and grunt through gritted teeth all at the same time. His breath was hot and shuddery on her neck, and she could feel his cock throbbing and swelling inside her soaking cunt.

"Shit, woman, yer gonna make me come talkin' like that," his voice rumbled beside her ear.

Then his lips were on her neck, tongue flicking out to taste the tiny beads of sweat, planting a trail of feverish, hungry kisses up to her earlobe. She shivered and the sensations grew more intense between her legs, behind her clit, around his thick cock.

His lips lifted away from her skin and then she heard him breathe out, "Whose pussy is that, baby?" He accentuated his question with a rough thrust up into her, barely interrupting the steady pace of his dick pounding her tight cunt.

Despite the haze of ecstasy floating through her brain, Beth smiled and moaned back, "Yours, baby – that's your pussy – oh-h, fuck, don't stop!" She couldn't manage any more words because she was inhaling sharply, her cunt clenching around his throbbing cock as he rammed into that spot even harder.

But she could feel how much it had turned Daryl on from the way he twitched and swelled impossibly harder inside of her. She moaned again as his pace grew more frenzied, more voracious. His breathing was coming in shorter gasps, and so was hers. She felt his lips on her neck again, but only briefly. The tension behind the wall that his cock kept ramming into was reaching its breaking point, and she knew the bubble was dangerously close to bursting.

Then he was breathing out beside her ear, his voice barely more than a husky growl, "Hearin' you beg fer this cock makes me wanna fuck you till ya can't walk."

She shivered again and suddenly, it was there. The edge disappeared and she was quickly tumbling over, his rumbling voice echoing in her ears and his thick cock hitting her G-spot repeatedly and intently. The bubble finally burst and sent those exploding starbursts travelling all throughout her core, down her legs. Daryl could feel her cunt contracting around his dick, but he didn't stop or interrupt his pace. He groaned loudly and she could hear the triumphant smile on his face.

"Oh – Jesus, babe, I'm coming, I'm coming," Beth gasped out, gripping him tightly and roughly pulling his head down until his face was buried in her neck. She felt the leather of his vest and the cotton of his shirt against her bare chest and stomach.

"I can tell, babe – shit, I'm about ta, too," he mumbled against her skin, pausing to kiss her neck as his pace sped up. Harder. Faster. Rougher.

She moaned, wave after wave of her orgasm washing over her continuously, just as relentless as Daryl's throbbing cock.

"Say my name," he gasped desperately. Quietly pleading.

"Oh-h, Daryl," Beth moaned out loudly, unabashedly, completely engulfed in her fleeting orgasm and Daryl's hot breath on her skin. She'd do anything he asked of her right now. She needed to feel his cock quiver and release inside her, needed to feel that long breath of relief escape from his chest.

And then it did, suddenly and intensely, with one last purposeful thrust up into her quivering, pulsing cunt.

"Fuck, Rosie…!" His voice came out strained and breathless, the words barely dripping from his parted lips like hot molasses, and she felt his stiff cock go completely rigid for a split-second before twitching and beginning to wilt. She could hear him tipping over the edge, riding his own waves of orgasmic pleasure, in the raggedy half-breaths he was taking.

Her haze of ecstasy quickly faded as her brain registered what he'd said… Rosie.

Not babe. Not baby. Not Beth. Rosie.

The tail ends of their orgasms ran their course, leaving Beth and Daryl embraced in a sweaty, shaky mess in the back of the Explorer. She felt him softly kissing her neck in a show of post-coital affection, content humming coming from his throat. But her heartbeat wasn't slowing to a regular pace.

A pang of guilt shot through her gut. The relief from finally getting to have sex again was terribly short-lived.

Fuck, she thought, fighting back tears that wanted to pool in her eyes as Daryl's chin hair tickled her neck and his lips left tiny, damp kisses. Why couldn't we have just stuck with 'babe'?

---

The guilt didn't go away. It didn't even fade. It just intensified. Grew heavier and settled in its usual spot at the pit of Beth's stomach.

She hid it well, embracing Daryl and giggling into his neck as they helped fix each other's clothing. Kissing him softly, deeply. Ignoring the ache. Letting her fingers intertwine with his when they walked away from the truck, a case of water in his free hand and a case of beer in hers. Staying close to his side as they trekked through the dense undergrowth and trees. Laughing softly along with him when he pointed out that Dwight and Sherry undoubtedly knew exactly what they'd really been up to. Stealing another long kiss before they returned to camp. Hiding the bright red blush in her cheeks and the flushed skin of her face when Dwight and Sherry laughed and made a joke about how Daryl "looked like he definitely got his exercise."

The sky had gotten darker while they were gone, and the rest of the lights around the campsite were turned on. The fire was bright and hot, flames licking up toward the sky. Dwight and Daryl restocked the cooler with the new cases of water and beer, and soon after that, they were offering Beth a slightly cold can. She eagerly accepted, desperate for any possible remedy to the aching in her gut. Not to mention, she thought a little liquid courage might help her play and sing better in front of two new people – who she inexplicably wanted to impress. Surely the combination of alcohol, music, and reassurance from new friends would help ease her inner pain. Or she could at least try.

Malachi was still running around, playing with bugs and generally being a messy little kid, until he saw Beth picking up her guitar and taking a seat with all the other adults around the fire. Then he joined them, climbing up onto the log and sitting down between Beth and Daryl. Sherry sipped a water and sat close to Dwight, who was sipping his beer, and Daryl was relaxing with his own can of beer in hand, other arm thrown around his son's shoulders.

Beth quickly swigged down about half her beer before she set it aside and placed her fingers over the frets of the guitar in her lap. She glanced around for the pick that had been tucked behind the strings and spotted it sitting on the log, on the other side of Daryl.

"Could you hand me that pick, babe?" She asked, gesturing to it and meeting Daryl's eyes. It was too easy to slip into the habit of using pet names regularly. But she also kind of liked the way his eyes lit up with faint surprise whenever she said it.

He smirked and grabbed the pick from beside him, handing it over to her. Their fingers brushed across each other and another jolt of fresh guilt churned her stomach when she saw the wistful gaze in his eyes. And his slightly flushed cheeks. All her doing.

She quickly looked away, back down to her guitar and the pick squeezed between her fingertips, and casually adjusted the tuner knobs while Dwight and Sherry joked with Daryl. Mal sat beside her, fidgeting in his seat and waiting patiently for her to start playing.

"Any requests?" She asked as soon as she was satisfied with the tune of each string, looking pointedly to Mal and raising her eyebrows expectantly.

The toddler grinned and his blue eyes got big. "Oh, oh – um can you, can you play the Moana song?"

Beth and the others chuckled but she quickly nodded, even though she didn't actually know the song. Well, she knew it, but she'd never tried to play it on any kind of instrument, let alone a guitar. It seemed simple enough, though, so she thought about it for a few seconds and decided on the finger placement over the frets, giving a few experimental strums with the pick and listening to the sound echo out around them. It bounced off the trees and sent a chill down her back.

She gave Mal another smile and said, "How'd I know you'd ask fer that?" He grinned back. She cleared her throat and concentrated on her fingers and the frets as she played and began to sing, trying not to focus on the two new sets of eyes watching her.

No more than three lines into the song and everyone was singing along happily. A wide smile formed on Beth's face as she played and led everyone in song, and Mal clapped and sang along with excitement between her and Daryl, watching with amazement as she performed one of his favorite Disney songs. The fire flickered between them, and her face grew hot from the warmth and all the attention. But she gradually grew comfortable, and every other verse, she would glance over and catch Daryl's eye and see the light smirk playing across his lips as he watched her and mouthed along to some of the words between sips of beer.

After that, she played a few more Disney songs for Mal. He jumped up from the log and danced happily around the fire, bringing laughter and encouraging claps from the other adults. Beth grinned and played songs from The Lion King, The Little Mermaid, and Beauty and the Beast. The toddler was full of way too much energy, as usual, but he was quickly dancing it out. During a song from Frozen, Sherry got up from her log and grabbed Mal's hands to dance around with him, their laughter joining the music and filling the small clearing. He giggled until he was completely breathless when she picked him up and spun him around in her arms as the song ended.

Beth paused and took a break to swig down some more beer, letting her singing voice rest for a few moments. Mal seemed to need the break, too, as he stumbled around like a drunken child, still giggling breathlessly. Sherry applauded Beth's performance, laughing again and plopping down on the log next to Dwight. He wrapped an arm around her, laughing with her and leaning in to steal a kiss.

"Dad, can – can I do s'mores again?" Mal asked, standing in front of Daryl and looking up at him with big, blue eyes.

Daryl chuckled and shook his head, taking a sip of beer before replying, "I think the last thing you need tonight is more sugar."

Mal frowned. "But, Dad – "

"We're leavin' tomorrow, might as well let 'im live it up while we're here," Dwight commented.

Daryl rolled his eyes and gave Dwight a look that said "thanks a lot." Mal nodded in agreement, smiling up at his dad expectantly.

"Alright, fine – you can have two s'mores," he gave in, raising his hand and showing Mal two fingers. "But y'gotta ask politely first."

Mal paused, then quickly said, "Pwease?"

Daryl nodded and Beth chuckled from where she sat, watching. Sherry agreed that she could go for a s'more or two and got up to begin gathering the stuff they needed to make them, and Mal quickly volunteered to help. Dwight got up and helped them both while Daryl moved over to the cooler to grab fresh beers for himself, Dwight, and Beth. When he sat back down and popped open his can, he waited for Beth to finish swigging down the last of her first beer before handing her the new one, watching her crunch the empty can in her hand and toss it into the fire.

She heard him chuckle lightly as she popped open the new beer, colder than the last, and then he commented, "Throwin' 'em back tonight, huh?"

She blushed and shrugged, setting the beer aside and placing her fingers back in position over the guitar strings. She smirked sheepishly and muttered, "Just tryin' to enjoy our last night here."

Daryl nodded and swigged his beer in silent agreement. Then he asked a little louder, "Whatcha gonna play now?"

"Know any country? Or somethin' that ain't Disney," Dwight joked from beside the fire, stepping back and letting Sherry and Mal begin roasting their first marshmallows.

Beth chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, I know some country." She placed her fingers over the frets as a song popped into her head, then started strumming with the pick. She spoke a little louder over the music of the guitar, a smile forming on her mouth, "Let's see if y'all remember this one."

The music got louder, echoing off the trees, and everyone had gone quiet as they watched her play and listened, smiles growing on their faces. Daryl began tapping his foot and nodding along, taking a sip of his beer. Beth paused before she began singing and looked around at each of them, eyebrows raised expectantly as she strummed.

Sherry's brow was furrowed as she visibly racked her brain to identify the song, but Dwight's eyes lit up and he called out, "Oh – Alan Jackson?"

Beth grinned and nodded. "Yeah!"

Expressions of realization came upon each of their faces collectively, and then Beth began to sing. "Two young people, without a thing. Say some vows an' spread their wings – and settle with just what they need. Livin' on love. She don't care 'bout what's in style, she just likes the way he smiles…"

The song brought back memories of her momma and daddy on the farm. She could faintly recall Hershel singing the song to Annette out on the back porch during warm summer nights. Years ago, when Beth was little and her family was normal.

Now, she opened her eyes and looked over to meet Daryl's gaze as she continued to sing, afraid she'd get teary-eyed if she let herself think about her parents too long. His eyes were focused on her, beer gripped in his hand as he watched her play and a faint smirk ghosted across his lips. She strummed with a little more intent, making the chords ring out loudly around them.

Beth's eyes didn't drift away from his as her voice paused after the bridge, then she sang the first chorus, "It sounds simple – that's what yer thinkin'. But love can wa-alk through fire without blinkin'! It doesn't take much, when you get enough. Just livin' on love – buyin' on ti-ime. Without somebody, nothin' ain't worth a dime…"

She thought she saw him blushing lightly but she quickly looked away, down at the guitar to pay attention to the chords she was playing – even though she didn't need to. She grinned and kept singing, suppressing a giggle beneath the second verse.

When she finished the song, Daryl was accepting a s'more from Mal, but Dwight and Sherry clapped like they'd just watched a show. Beth laughed and did a fake half-bow over her guitar. She paused just long enough to take a swig of beer before placing her fingers back over the frets and strumming out the tune to another song. This one was newer, and she knew the others probably wouldn't be able to name the artist quite as quickly as they'd been able to identify Alan Jackson. But she looked up and gave Daryl a teasing smirk as she played, and he gazed back quizzically until she started singing.

"Drivin' through town, just my boy and me. With a happy meal in his booster seat," she began, smile growing wider when she saw a flicker of recognition on Daryl's face. He began shaking his head and smiling bashfully, turning away from her gaze to focus on helping Mal with his messy s'more.

Dwight seemed to know the song well, because he began to sing along with her during the chorus, "I've been watchin' you, Dad, ain't that cool? I'm your buckaroo, I wanna be like you! An' eat all my food, and grow as tall as you are. We got cowboy boots and camo pants – yeah, we're just alike, hey, ain't we, Dad?"

Their voices joined together and Mal began laughing and dancing along happily, still holding half of a s'more tightly in his little hands. Daryl was suppressing his own laughter, finally looking over to shoot Beth a "this song, really?" look as she continued to sing unabashedly. Small giggles escaped her mouth during a couple of lines in the song, and when she finished it, she took a long swig of beer as everyone applauded.

"Good song," Daryl commented, smirking.

"Alright, somethin' a little older this time," Beth announced, placing her fingers over the frets and strumming out the beginning of another tune. The others quickly quieted down. Mal paused, focused on stuffing the rest of his s'more into his mouth so he could grab the new marshmallow being offered to him by Sherry.

Beth's voice came out softer this time, matching the tone of the song she was playing. "Every man has a right to live. Love is all that we have to give. Together we struggle by our will to survive. And together we fight, just ta stay alive…"

This had been one of her daddy's favorite songs, too. Though it had always been sad to her. Something had changed between now and the last time she'd played it for him. She couldn't explain it, but the song was more comforting now – less tragic. More hopeful. Maybe she was starting to see why her daddy had loved it so much. The heaviness in her gut lifted just the slightest, and the words poured out of her, eyes drifting shut as she pretended, for just a brief moment, that he was sitting across from her, listening to her play. Tapping his foot along and smiling softly, like he always did.

"Struggling man has got ta move. Struggling man, no time ta lose… I'm a strugglin' man. An' I gotta move on…"

She opened her eyes as the last notes echoed around her and saw everyone watching her intently. Thankfully, she didn't feel like crying this time. There were no tears fighting to pool in her eyes. It was just… nice. Then Daryl smiled and Mal over-excitedly clapped, and Beth laughed.

"Sorry, that was a downer – so here's Africa by Toto," she grinned, immediately jumping into strumming out the first few chords of the familiar 80s song. Dwight and Sherry laughed loudly and Daryl shook his head, rolling his eyes with a playful half-smile on his face.

She went on with singing the song, belting it out over-dramatically while Sherry joined in. After a verse and a chorus, Dwight joined in, too, raising his beer in tribute to the music. Daryl did the same, flashing Beth a flirtatious smirk. She strummed the chords a little harder, a little louder, and let herself forget about everything else. Just for a moment, while she sang about the rains down in Africa.

It felt like only a few minutes to Beth, but it had to have been at least an hour or more that she was sitting by the fire, playing her guitar and singing for everyone. She would grin when they joined in with her, and would blush when Daryl gave her that look. Mal didn't seem to care that he'd already had his allowance of s'mores for the night because he quickly became preoccupied with dancing and singing along where he could. Daryl and Dwight began chain-smoking cigarettes alongside drinking their beers. And by the time her throat was starting to become hoarse from singing, and her fingers were aching from the rough strings, Beth had downed about three beers herself, and she was already halfway through her fourth. She wasn't sure if it was the music or the alcohol, but the aching was subsiding. At least for the time being.

Dwight asked if he could play around with the guitar and she happily handed it over, eager for a rest. He handled it carefully and took a few minutes to get reacquainted with the frets and strings. But it turned out that he knew how to play decently well. Though Daryl was quick to point out that he was nowhere near as good as "Rosie." Beth nudged Daryl playfully at that, but Dwight only laughed and agreed. He played a couple of very simple Beatles songs, followed by a Johnny Cash song at Sherry's request. All the while, Beth worked on finishing her fourth beer and moving on to her fifth, and Mal was squirming to climb down from where he sat on the log, squeezed between his dad and Beth.

Sherry suggested they lay out the blankets again and enjoy their last night of open sky and stargazing, to which everyone agreed. While Beth took the guitar back and returned it to the inside of her and Daryl's tent, Dwight retrieved a folded-up, bright blue tarp from his big bag of camping supplies and laid it out on the ground, on the side of the fire that wasn't occupied by logs. It put another protective layer between them and the cold, muddy ground. Then Mal helped Sherry lay out blankets, careful to take off their muddy shoes and keep the upper side of the blankets clean. Meanwhile, Daryl pulled cold beers from the cooler for Beth, Dwight, and himself, as well as a juice box for Mal – sugar-free.

They all wound up taking off their shoes and plopping down on the array of blankets laid out over the tarp, and the campfire cast a warm glow over them. Sherry shut off half the lights, like she had the previous night, to give them a better view of the stars. Mal sipped his juice box contentedly, sitting between Daryl and Sherry, and listened to more stories about mythology, the constellations, and the bright planets flickering down at them from above. Beth cuddled up close on the other side of Daryl, their hands resting together on the blanket between them while they sipped beers and gazed up at the sky. Dwight sat on the other side of Sherry, occasionally pointing up and adding in a little tidbit or "fact" of his own. He was good at making Mal laugh with his goofy comments, and Beth had to admit that she found herself laughing more often than not, too. Although the beer was kind of going to her head by this point.

She, Daryl, and Dwight were a beer-and-a-half into stargazing when Sherry began yawning more often, though Malachi was showing no signs of tiring yet. The toddler was still sprinting to the edge of the woods every time he needed to take a bathroom break, despite Daryl's scolding and attempts to catch up with him. Now, Daryl looked like he was beginning to regret allowing two s'mores, and Dwight had started to look as exhausted as Sherry sounded. Their conversation dwindled down to a quiet lull, but Mal was still pointing up at the stars, identifying shapes and planets.

"Hey, Mal, you wanna do some shadow puppets in the tent?" Sherry suggested, sitting up and gesturing toward her and Dwight's tent.

Mal glanced over at Daryl, then nodded eagerly. "Um, yeah! Is – are we goin' ta Dad an' Rosie's tent?"

Dwight and Daryl exchanged a look and then Dwight sat up, too. "How 'bout a sleepover in me an' Honey's tent?"

Mal grinned. "Yeah! Dad – "

Daryl replied before the question had come out, "Yeah, bud, go ahead. You think you can be a big boy an' sleep in their tent tonight?"

The toddler nodded fervently, jumping to his feet and rushing to shove his feet into shoes. "Can – can I get my sleepin' bag?!"

Sherry laughed and stood up, stretching her arms up toward the sky before heading to slip on her own shoes and grab Mal's hand. "Yeah, let's go get it."

Dwight was slipping on his shoes, but Daryl and Beth remained where they sat, watching the others. Beth looked over at Daryl with a slightly quizzical expression, but he just smirked at her and nodded.

When Sherry and Mal had disappeared inside the tent to get Mal's sleeping bag, Dwight leaned over to mutter to Daryl, "You owe me fer this one."

Daryl chuckled and shook his head. "Hey, yer woman volunteered – wasn't my idea."

Dwight scoffed, but he was smiling playfully the whole time. "Yeah, well me an' her are gonna have a talk. Once we got a baby of our own, you got a whole night a babysittin' duties."

The men shared another laugh before Dwight nodded and muttered, "Alright, y'all, 'night now. Don't do nothin' I wouldn't do."

As he walked away, Daryl called quietly after him, "Ya don't really set the bar too high in the first place, do ya?"

Beth could hear Dwight laughing as he disappeared inside of his and Sherry's tent, and a few seconds later, Mal and Sherry were emerging from the other tent. Sherry carried the toddler's half-rolled sleeping bag in her arms, guiding Mal toward the tent that Dwight had just slipped into.

"'Night, Dad! 'Night, Rosie!" Mal waved, grinning at them as he quickly ran off to get inside of the tent. Dwight was already shining a flashlight through the small opening in the flaps, and Mal laughed loudly as soon as he disappeared behind the flaps.

Sherry waved back at them as well, smiling over her shoulder. "Goodnight, guys – don't have too much fun."

She put playful emphasis on her last few words, then laughed as she headed into the tent behind Mal, with Beth and Daryl waving after her and laughing lightly while they called out, "'Night!"

Then they were alone. It had happened quicker than Beth imagined. She'd expected another night of trying to lull Mal to sleep on the blankets, or trying to keep him asleep in the tent. She'd also expected her and Daryl's little adventure to the truck to be the only alone time they would get on the trip, especially considering they'd be leaving in about twelve hours. But here they were… sitting together on the blankets under the bright, twinkling stars, with the warm glow of the fire washing over them. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire, the singing crickets around them, and the muffled sounds of a child's laughter joined by Dwight's and Sherry's from inside their tent.

Beth looked over at Daryl and arched an eyebrow, suppressing a smile as she quietly asked, "Well, ain't this awfully convenient…" She took a sip of her beer, unsure why her heart had started beating a little faster. Why did she suddenly feel anxious?

Daryl grunted and turned his face away to scoot over until he was in the middle of the blankets, then looked back at her and patted the spot beside him. Beth's heart fluttered and she quickly scooted over to join him, crisscrossing her legs in front of her to imitate how he was sitting. He smirked and held his can of beer out between them. She raised her own and they clicked the aluminum together, then took simultaneous swigs. She ended up draining the last few drops of hers. Then she lowered it to see Daryl crushing his own empty can and gesturing to the cooler.

"Need another?" He offered.

She nodded and he tossed his can into the fire, then got up and went to the cooler for new beers. She tossed her own can into the fire as well, and watched him return with two wet beer cans in his hands.

"So – what, you made a deal with Dwight or somethin'?" She asked, reaching out and taking the beer he was holding out to her.

He plopped down beside her and popped open the tab on his can, shaking his head. Beth kept her eyes on him, popping open the tab of her own beer and taking a small sip.

"Nah, nothin' like that," he muttered right before taking a long swig of cold beer.

"Then what?" She prodded, smiling and leaning just a little closer toward him.

"Like he said, it was Sherry's idea," Daryl mumbled, inspecting the condensation on his can. "Guess she thought we should get a night alone out here."

Beth raised her eyebrows and giggled softly. "Huh – okay. Well, that's nice of 'em."

He nodded and finally turned his head to meet her gaze, immediately letting a smirk form. "Yeah, s'pose it is."

She tilted her head to the side and flitted her eyes up and down him, from his shaggy hair down to his dark socks and back up to his bloodshot eyes. The smirk remained on his lips as she gave him a flirtatious half-smile and joked, "So… you wanna make out or somethin'?"

He laughed and quickly took a sip of beer, shaking his head. But the fire and remaining lights around them were bright enough that she could see the light blush on his cheeks. Then he suddenly set his beer down and reached over to grab her arm and pull her over to him. She yelped softly in surprise and giggled as she struggled to set her nearly full can down without spilling it, then she wrapped her other arm around his shoulder and allowed him to pull her in against his broad chest.

His mouth crashed into hers, all chapped lips, beer, and cigarette smoke. They kissed hungrily at first, a little sloppy. Then it became more even-paced and less frantic. They relaxed into each other, reveling in the moment and enjoying the silence and solitude. Sure, they had to be mindful of Mal coming out of the tent for a bathroom break or something. But they could retreat to their own tent soon.

She felt a tingle between her legs at the thought and broke their kiss before it became too intense. He seemed to share the sentiment because he didn't object, and she saw him squirming awkwardly as he tried to readjust himself. She held back a giggle and took another swig of beer before stretching her legs out and lying back on the blanket.

Daryl followed her lead, lying back with her, and she quickly reached out to grasp his rough hand. It was cold to the touch, so she wrapped her own hand around it tightly. "Oh – yer hands are cold."

He grunted in response, squeezing her hand back lightly. "Sorry. Gotta warm 'em up for me."

She smiled and glanced over at him. "My grandma used ta say, 'cold hands, warm heart.' Maybe it's just yer extra warm heart."

He chuckled softly. His fingers quickly found the spaces between hers and filled them habitually. Then they were lying close together on their backs, in the middle of the blanket, alone beneath the wide open, star-speckled sky. The air was getting chillier as the night grew later, but the fire was still plenty warm beside them, even as it slowly receded into itself from lack of being recently stoked. Daryl's hand was gradually getting warmer in hers.

""S too bad we gotta leave tomorrow," Beth mumbled, staring up at the stars from beneath heavy eyelids. "What time were you plannin' on heading out?"

Daryl grunted – an agreement. Then replied, "Think Sherry said somethin' about havin' ta get back by ten. She's gotta help run the daycare at their church. So – prob'ly get on the road by seven."

Beth nodded and sighed. She gave Daryl's hand a light squeeze and said softly, "I kinda don't ever wanna go back."

"Mm, me too," he rumbled. "Always wanted a cabin up here somewhere… Maybe someday – when I can afford it."

The guilt ached in her gut, reminding her it was still there, and she swallowed hard when she felt him squeeze her hand back. The beer was still swimming around her head, bringing thoughts to the surface that she might normally dismiss. Like: tell him tell him tell him. They weren't so easily silenced after five or six drinks. And the comfort brought about by the fire and the dark sky above wasn't helping to deter her, either.

But how many more times could she let him call her "Rosie" during their most intimate moments before she had to correct him? Had to tell him the truth? He would already be furious – he'd feel foolish. She would make him feel foolish. Saying a fake name during sex. How stupid would she feel in his position? Awfully stupid. And that would just be the tip of the iceberg when it came to Daryl's reaction. Was it already too late?

Or was this the right time she'd been waiting for? If she waited too long, wouldn't it be like she had planned to manipulate him the whole time? It would be too difficult to convince him otherwise, by that point.

"Whatcha get so quiet for?" His low voice caught her attention and she turned her head to look over at him. He was watching her, gazing at her with that sleepy, wistful glaze in his eyes. A tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth – like he was happy just being with her.

I'm the devil, she thought. A painful jolt of guilt spread through her stomach.

But she smiled back weakly, letting the alcohol sweep away her negative thoughts for a moment. "Nothin'," she mumbled. "Just thinkin' – about that cabin. It sounds nice. Maybe we could run away up here. Live off the land."

He chuckled softly and it rang through her bones. Her smile became genuine even though she wasn't entirely joking. He turned his head to gaze up at the sky again and squeezed her hand.

"Right. I wish," he rumbled. "Too bad there ain't no schools up here."

Her smile faded and she blinked. "Homeschooling," she suggested softly.

He grunted. "Ever met a homeschool kid? They're always weird. Poor kid's already weird, he'll have a hard enough time figurin' out all those stupid social rules."

Beth shrugged, frowning. "Yeah. I s'pose yer right."

She saw Daryl smirk again, continuing to look up at the stars as a group of thick clouds passed over them, but he didn't say anything. She bit down on her lower lip and turned her head to look up, too, watching the clouds slowly float through the dark sky. They were puffy and white, unlike the dark clouds that had been blocking the sun for most of the day. Every now and then, she could see an ember from the fire catch on a breeze and float through the air over them, extinguishing and disappearing into the darkness.

The right time, she thought. Echoing through her head, repeating over and over. The right time. The right time… Now or never?

She briefly glanced over to see the unmistakable light of a flashlight illuminated against the inside of Sherry and Dwight's tent, with several hands wiggling their fingers and making recognizable shapes with the large shadows. Mal's laughter had grown quieter and less frequent, but she could still hear them playing and enjoying themselves. Then she turned her head to gaze at Daryl again. He was still staring thoughtfully up at the sky, eyelids drooping.

"Babe," Beth said softly, voice barely coming out louder than a whisper. A knot was forming in her throat but there was a burst of courage blooming somewhere near the middle of her chest and she had to go with it. Before the moment passed. Before she lost her chance.

Daryl heard her and his head immediately turned to look over and meet her eyes. He smirked faintly at the pet name and responded, "Hmm?"

Her spine tensed but she formed the words with ease, pushing them out with the slightest hint of self-assurance. "I, um… Can I tell you somethin'?"

His brow furrowed slightly and he blinked, and she could see in his eyes that he thought it would be something really bad. Did he have any idea just how bad it was, though? Fuck. How was she supposed to drop that on him? The flicker of worry in his eyes was already making her stomach turn.

He squeezed her hand and gave a chaste nod. "What – yeah, but like… what?"

She tried not to let the frown appear on her face. Her heart was thumping harder inside her chest, hammering against her breastbone like it was trying to escape. She licked her lips and swallowed past the painful knot in her throat again.

Daryl's eyes narrowed as he studied her, waiting for a response – preparing himself for the worst.

She rearranged the words inside her head at least a dozen times, switched out a few sentences, cut even more out entirely. Her courage was waning and she was, in no way, prepared to handle the backlash that would come from Daryl knowing the whole truth. The look on his face alone was enough to frighten her into aborting her plan. So, at the last minute, she opted for the easier route.

"I, um," she started weakly, pausing and forcing her voice to come out stronger and clearer. "I never planned on stayin' in New York. Ever. I was gonna leave – the country. I wanted a new beginning. Brand new. And… I still want that."

She paused as his frown deepened and his face fell. Her heart thumped harder. Her stomach churned angrily. Was it a play of the light or was she seeing the color begin to drain from his cheeks?

Fuck, she thought. Fuck fuck fuck, I can't do this. I can't hurt him. I can't lose him.

He parted his lips like he was about to say something, but she quickly continued before he could, "But I don't wanna leave without you an' Mal. I – I want you t'come with me. I want us all ta be together…"

Her voice trailed off and she didn't trust herself to say any more. To her immense relief, his frown slowly turned up into a faint smile and the color returned to his cheeks.

"Like where?" He asked quietly, voice cracking at the end. His eyes were searching her face. Admiring.

Her muscles stopped tensing and she let out the breath she'd been subconsciously holding in anticipation of his reaction. She couldn't help but to feel like she'd dodged a bullet – taking the easy way out instead of utilizing her best opportunity presented so far. Would she regret this later?

She shrugged sheepishly, eyes flicking away from his. "I'ono. Haven't decided yet."

"Thought that was just – messin' around last night," he rumbled. "Didn't think you were bein' serious."

She smirked and met his gaze again to find a wistful smile on his face. "Yeah, well – I didn't know how ta tell you. I was afraid you wouldn't wanna leave. Or you'd think I wanted ta leave without you. 'Cause I don't… I really, really don't." She tried to add a light chuckle at the end, but it came out more forced than intended. Stiff, due to the quickly fleeting courage.

He squeezed her hand tighter than before and said, "Haven't decided where ya wanna go yet, huh?"

Beth chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully for a long moment. She wanted to tell him that it wasn't actually up to her – that her life was resting in someone else's hands. What came out was, "Well, I – have a family friend that's workin' on getting my passport an' stuff arranged under the radar. So I can get outta here without… anybody tryin' ta give me trouble. And then it's just a case of lettin' Jesus tell me where I should go."

Yes, she knew how it sounded, and that's exactly why she'd worded it that way. Though she immediately regretted it. That goddamn beer swimming around in her head again, making her think bad ideas were actually good ideas. Making the half-truths pour from her mouth uncontrollably. Without realizing it, lying had become second nature. Her nerves switching to default, avoiding the harsh honesty that would bring nothing but pain and disappointment and, possibly, tears.

Daryl grunted. "Jesus, huh? Well, hope ol' homeboy picks someplace warm an' sunny. Beachside, preferably. With good schools."

Mom and Dad failed. They raised a no-good, selfish, lying manipulator, she thought, a pang of guilt shooting through her stomach and travelling all the way up her spine. I really am evil.

Despite her guilt-ridden conscious, she couldn't bring herself to tell him the whole truth – or to clarify that she didn't mean the Jesus from the crucifix. It was too late now. She'd told him everything that was safe to tell him, just short of admitting that she was wanted by the police.

She put on a half-smile and squeezed his hand tightly, staring into his eyes with more intensity than he was probably expecting, and asked tentatively, "So – you want to? You and Mal will leave with me…?"

A hopeful and expectant expression took over her face, and Daryl smirked. He squeezed her hand back reassuringly and replied, "Well, it don't sound like a half-bad idea. But let's get through the holidays first an' then go from there… How's that sound?"

In all honesty, Beth hadn't expected anything close to a yes. So this was more than a success in her eyes. She didn't need to ask why he wanted to wait to decide – but she did need to do some serious praying in hopes that everything would work itself out by the time Jesus told her it was time to go. In hopes that the right time would finally present itself.

Nevertheless, the corners of her mouth lifted up in a broad smile and she nodded, heart slowing in her chest. The tighter he squeezed her hand, the calmer she felt. And the urges were finally quieting down – or the beer was just making her too sleepy to focus on them anymore.

She nodded, still smiling, and said, "Sounds good."

Then she scooted her body over closer to his, closing the miniscule distance between them until their sides were pressed close together and their hands were still clasped tightly, resting on Daryl's stomach. Beth leaned her head against his shoulder and they gazed up at the stars together, breathing synchronizing and heartbeats steadying. She rolled over onto her side and threw a leg over both his legs, placing her other arm over his middle with her head still on his shoulder. She breathed in his scent, relishing in the warmth and sturdiness of his body against hers. She listened to the faint beating of his heart in one ear, and the crackling of the dying fire in the other.

Her eyelids were growing heavier. It didn't help that Daryl resituated to get more comfortable and wrap his arm around her, holding her close to his side and bringing his other hand up to rest on his stomach and tightly hold hers. She heard a soft hum of contentment come from his throat as they settled in, relaxing on the blankets with the fire's warmth bathing them.

He has to know, that tiny voice piped up at the back of her head. But her sleepy mind argued back, When the time is right. Not tonight. He's so happy and content and comfortable. Let him feel as happy as he makes you feel. Don't ruin it by telling him you're a fucking fake…

You have to wait until the hook is sunk in. Or else he'll swim far, far away, and you'll never see him again.

Her eyelids had fallen shut and her nose was nuzzled into Daryl's warm neck, breathing him in as everything became a little foggier around her. The sounds of Sherry, Dwight, and Mal had faded away. It was just Beth and Daryl. And the fire and the stars. And all the things she wasn't telling him.

All the ghosts of her past that constantly travelled along on her back.

Her mind was foggy, cluttered, hazy. But there was something floating around at the front, begging to be let out. She'd thought about it and pushed it back so many times already. And now, with the option of "running away" with this incredible man laying more real than ever before her, that something was making its reappearance.

It had teased its arrival on her tongue on countless occasions: Watching Daryl smile. Hearing his laugh. Looking into his eyes and seeing something she couldn't name, but that she could recognize. That feeling that swelled up in her chest whenever he was around. That constant fluttering in her stomach. The empty ache she felt at the mere thought of losing him. That impossible urge to pull down the heavens and wrap them in a bow just to see if it would make him a little happier. The desire to cover her hands over all his scars and cracks and crevices and fill them with any ounce of good she might have left in her soul…

She knew what that was. She might be young, a little inexperienced and naïve, with a too-short relationship rap sheet. But she knew this much. Knew it in the pit of her soul. She'd wanted to say it. So fucking badly. She'd resisted, held back. Pushed against it, denied it a few times. But there was no use now. She was way too far gone. They both were. The whole situation had spiraled completely out of control and – honestly? Beth had no desire to contain it.

Her voice pushed up and out of her throat without her complete consent. It was breathy, nothing more than a whisper inches away from Daryl's ear, but she knew he heard her because she felt his whole body tense up reflexively as soon as it came out.

"Daryl… I'm in love with you."

Jesus, that felt good. Something released from within her on the same breath that the words escaped on. Like she'd been holding it in for days, or weeks, afraid that speaking those stone-carved words would shatter the glass bubble that had formed around them. Saying it aloud also meant admitting it to herself, which she'd been putting off for far too long.

Then she felt his muscles unclench, heard a deep sigh leaving his mouth. He squeezed her hand in his, running his rough thumb over her knuckles. Her eyes remained shut and she tried to imagine what his expression looked like. But she was so weighed down with beer and exhaustion that she couldn't bother holding her breath or clenching her jaw in fear of a bad reaction. Of all the confessions teetering on the tip of her tongue, this was the least dangerous to let slip out.

Her heart felt a little heavier when he took a long moment to respond, though, and she couldn't control that. For a second, she began to wonder if she had said the wrong thing.

But then he grunted and rubbed his fingers across her knuckles again. His voice was a low, husky growl as he mumbled, "Yer jus' drunk… Take a nap, ya lush." He softly chuckled and squeezed her hand tightly.

Beth didn't have the energy to argue. Maybe she was a little drunk. But not drunk enough to make proclamations that weren't true. That was way too much for her to try and explain at the moment, though, as her body relaxed and everything became a little foggier, a little more distant.

For a second, she wondered if Daryl didn't want to say it back because he really did think she was just saying it out of drunkenness – or if he just didn't feel it yet. What if she had already fallen harder for him than he had for her? Or maybe she was just saying it way too soon. But what was the difference between agreeing to run away together and saying "I love you"? Or was she just way too fucking naïve for her own good?

Her brain finally wore itself out with the internal battle, growing as tired as her voice had. She felt herself drifting off as she lay against Daryl, and she thought he might've been, too, because he'd become completely still and was breathing very steadily. But then everything faded away entirely. Sleep wrapped its familiar and comforting arms around her and welcomed her deep inside.

And then the dreams took over.

Beth found herself on the bank of the river she'd fished in with Daryl and the others. It was morning again, and the sky was dull and gray. She felt anxious – she wasn't sure why. Something had to be done. She was right in the middle of finishing something very important, she could tell.

Then she spotted Daryl and Malachi. They were standing at the tree line, holding hands and looking at her expectantly. Daryl waved toward her. "C'mon, babe, we gotta go!" He called.

She ran over to join them, reached out to grab their hands and run to wherever they were going. She had no idea why they were running, or why they had to go. Maybe Dwight and Sherry were waiting for them? But as soon as she reached out her hands, Daryl and Mal both winced back, expressions of absolute disgust on their faces. She quickly looked down at her hands, confused as to why they seemed so repulsed.

Everything was normal, except that her hands and fingers were caked in mud. Beth stared down at them, baffled, wondering what she'd done to get so dirty. Had she been digging for nightcrawlers with Mal again?

"Jesus – you can't touch us like that," Daryl growled. "Wash yer fuckin' hands."

Without questioning it, and fearful of the angry tone in his voice, Beth turned around and rushed back to the bank of the river. She leaned down and dunked her hands into the cool, shallow water. Then she scrubbed and scrubbed, rubbing away the caked-on mud, scraping the dried soil from beneath her nails, out of her cuticles. She scrubbed vigorously, trying to hurry as she heard Daryl and Mal calling to her from the edge of the woods.

When she turned around, hands dripping wet and finally clean, she raced back over to join them with a triumphant smile on her face. But Daryl still looked angry, and for some reason, Mal began crying. Loudly.

Daryl fumed, his voice rising. "This some kinda joke to you? If you loved me, you wouldn't fuckin' lie ta me!"

Beth stared back in bemusement, utterly confused. What had she lied about? Then she looked down at her hands. They were dirty. As if she'd never cleaned them to begin with. The soil was all over, mud caked under her nails, dirt blackening her skin. Her heart raced, her throat went dry. She wanted to cry, or to scream. Instead, she turned and ran back to the river, dunking her hands deep into the shallow water. She scrubbed again. Over and over and over.

She hadn't lied – she just hadn't tried hard enough. Maybe that's why he'd been upset.

But every time her hands emerged, they were still covered in soil. The water did nothing, the rubbing and scrubbing had no effect whatsoever. And Daryl's voice was drifting farther away with every second. Mal's voice had faded out entirely. She turned to look over her shoulder and see that they'd disappeared. She was alone, on the bank of the river, trying desperately to scrub soil from her hands that was permanently embedded into her skin.

She grabbed a nearby rock, its surface rough and pebbly, and began scraping it against the tops of her hands like a scrubbing pad. The dirt didn't move. She felt the sharp pain on her knuckles, winced as her skin sliced open in various places. But when the cuts opened, they didn't clear away the dirt, or produce red blood.

It was dark, wet, thick mud that seeped from her open wounds. And no matter how hard she scrubbed, how much of her skin she sliced open with the rock, she couldn't make the soil disappear. Couldn't find a vein that ran with actual blood. The mud seeped out and covered her hands, dripped off her fingers and into the water. She felt the tears on her cheeks but she didn't know when she'd started crying.

She shut her eyes tightly and when they opened again, the river was gone. She looked down to find her hands still dirty, caked in mud, but the cuts were nonexistent, and the rock she'd been using was no longer there. She stood up, the ground beneath her dark and covered in lush, green undergrowth. Beth quickly realized she was deep in the woods of the Catskill Mountains – the same woods that she and Daryl had trekked through. It was dark, and she couldn't see anything but the faint outlines of countless trees.

"Beth! Babe! C'mon – this way!" Daryl's voice called out to her and her head snapped around, spotting a dim light far off behind her. She didn't find it odd that he'd called her by her real name, for some reason. She turned to face the light and began walking toward it, reaching her hands out to feel for obstacles. She could barely make out his blurry silhouette within the dim light, and it looked like she was nearly a mile away from reaching the edge of the woods. But she walked faster, following his voice, focusing on his outline and listening to the dead leaves and thick soil crunch and mush beneath her boots.

At first, she made progress. The light got closer, she was able to make out Daryl's hair and she could hear his voice growing louder, urging her on, waving toward her desperately. She walked faster, reaching out for him. But then her legs grew heavy. Her feet began sinking into the ground beneath her. The mud got softer and softer, wetter and thicker, until her feet weighed the same as two cinder blocks and began sinking down, down, down. She struggled through it, forced her ankles to lift, fought and strained against the weight. It felt like an eighteen-wheeler was strapped to her back.

She turned her head to look back and realized there actually was something strapped to her back. It was her bag. Something in her knew that it was full of all the money and all the heirlooms. It felt like it weighed eighty pounds. She could see the barrel of the Beretta sticking out of the partially-open zipper. Something told her it was the gun – the gun was weighing her down more than anything.

Angrily, Beth yanked the bag off her back and tossed it into the dark woods. She listened to it fall, heard the loud clunk it made on the ground. And she was so much lighter. She lifted her feet, fought against the sinking mud and managed to somewhat lift herself out. She was almost back on solid ground. She looked ahead and saw Daryl – saw his face, his frantic expression. She heard him calling to her clearly. She could make out his words now.

"Babe – hurry! They're comin'!"

Her feet were sinking again. She looked back and found the bag strapped to her back. Like she'd never taken it off. The Beretta was still peeking out. She yanked it off again, chucked it as hard and as far into the woods as she could. And when she looked back again, she realized who "they" were.

The rest of the deep mountain woods had disappeared. Beth was no longer in the Catskill Mountains. She wasn't even in New York. She was back in Georgia. On the farm. She was home.

The tree line she could see up ahead, where Daryl stood, still urging her to run toward him, was the same tree line she'd emerged from after running away from the police and the helicopter's spotlight. She could see a swarm of uniformed police officers – the same ones who'd tackled Glenn and Maggie to the ground – running after her, easily dodging trees and quickly catching up to her. Her heart began to race uncontrollably, breath coming in short, frantic gasps. She cried out but her voice didn't work.

Daryl's voice became clearer in her ears. But it was the only thing she could hear. "Babe – babe! Please, c'mon…"

She ran, urged her legs to work, fought with every ounce of strength she had against the thick mud that swallowed up her ankles. But it was no use. There was no running away.

And when she looked back to see how close the police were, she found the bag strapped to her back again. The barrel of the gun peeked out between the zipper. Her stomach dropped down to her feet and she stopped struggling.

It doesn't matter anyway, she thought hopelessly. Daryl and I will never be able to be together, or be happy – so what's the point of being free? I'll never be able to run far enough away.

to be continued…

---

A/N: The dream sequence was specifically inspired by lyrics from Emily Kinney's song, "Same Mistakes":
"I've cleaned every bit of dirt from my nails
But the soil seeped into my blood
It doesn't matter how far I go
I can't seem to shake where I come from"

I am truly sorry for how ridiculously long these chapters have been getting. I know it gets overwhelming with so many words and so much information being presented at once, but I hope that you all understand (especially later on) that it's kind of necessary. However, I will be trying to get the chapters down to about half this length soon. Until then, I promise you it will all be worth it. Now that Rick is awake, things are about to start getting seriously interesting. Next week will probably be a Det. Grimes chapter.
Also sorry if the story is boring you. You always have the option of not reading. If there are things you think I could be doing differently/better, please, let me know! I love constructive criticism, and hearing from my readers is one of the things that helps me learn how to be a better writer. However, I will tell you that there are big plans for this fic, and a lot of those plans consist of lots of build-up and A LOT of circling around the same questions before finding any answers. Just a warning ;) Keep in mind: we're seeing two different sides of the same story in this fic. But the answers will be well worth all the questions.
Thank you for reading and thank you to those who take the time to review! Y'all are most of the reason I continue this story :)