Warning: this chapter contains explicit sexual content.
to comprehend this curse that i call love
Beth's terrifying dream left her trembling when she returned to consciousness. But as soon as she opened her eyes, it fled her mind, and she couldn't recall the details or why she'd even been scared in the first place. Her face was wet and she quickly reached a hand up to wipe at it, realizing it was her own tears. She rubbed her eyes and lifted her head to glance around, still disoriented.
The light and warmth of the campfire was almost completely gone, and the night seemed to have grown darker and colder around her. Then she remembered that Daryl had been next to her when she'd gone to sleep, and she sat up to look around for him. The absence of his body heat and his warm embrace sent a tiny jolt of fear through her chest, and for the briefest moment, she was afraid that Daryl himself had been a dream entirely.
Dwight and Sherry's tent was dark and silent, and there were only a few of the solar-powered lights left on around the small campsite. The fire had burned down to a barely flickering flame, surviving on the remnants of ashes. The only sounds were crickets and other nocturnal critters calling out into the night from the surrounding woods, rustling trees and the occasional owl hooting. The moon was shining dimly from the dark sky, cumulonimbus clouds disappearing and leaving wisps of stratocumulus in their wake to lazily float through the star-speckled blackness. Daryl and Beth's tent was dark and silent, too, and Beth wondered if Daryl had retreated inside and left her out on the blanket. She didn't know what time it was, but she knew it had to have been at least a couple of hours since she'd been asleep.
Then a loud rustling from the tree line caught her attention and she turned her head to look. A shadowy figure approached, and at first she'd panicked, but she quickly recognized the familiar gait and silhouette, and then Daryl was stepping close enough that she could see him faintly in the light. When he met her gaze and realized she was awake, he walked a little faster until he'd reached the blanket.
"Ya alright?" He asked, gazing down at her with a furrowed brow.
Beth nodded, slowly pushing herself up on the blanket until she was standing on her feet. "Jus' woke up an' you were gone, got a little confused. What time is it?" She hoped he hadn't seen the tears on her face or felt her trembling while she'd been asleep.
He shrugged and glanced up at the moon. "Little after midnight, I reckon. Jus' got up ta go take a piss. You wanna go sleep in the tent?"
She quickly found her boots and slipped them on, becoming very aware of her full bladder now that Daryl had mentioned it. "Yeah, I'm gonna go pee, too."
He nodded and went about rolling up the blankets and tarp while she walked away toward the tree line to relieve herself. When she returned, he was stamping out the last remaining embers of the campfire, having packed away the blankets and tarp already. Beth went to the cooler and got a bottle of water, which she nearly emptied within seconds, chugging the cold liquid and finding instant relief from the dry mouth and horrible beer after-taste that she'd woken up with. Thankfully, her head didn't hurt – for now.
They slipped into their empty, quiet tent together and changed into warm sleeping clothes, moving together in silence. As usual, it took Daryl about five seconds to strip down and get comfortable, and then he was snuggling into the large sleeping bag and sliding over to leave an empty spot for Beth. When she finally turned around, she found him gazing up at her with sleepy eyes, waiting patiently for her to join him. She smiled eagerly and slipped in beside him, wriggling around a bit and finding the right spot. His large frame took up most of the space inside the bag, but there was just enough for her petite body to squeeze in comfortably. Then she let out a deep sigh of content, their combined body heat filling the sleeping bag and enveloping them while they pressed close against each other. Daryl slid an arm beneath her and wrapped the other around her middle, pulling her in closer.
"Feelin' okay? You was squirmin' a lot in yer sleep," his low voice rumbled out next to her ear, his breath hot on the side of her neck.
She lay on her back, both hands grasping the arm that he'd wrapped around her. Her eyes were closed, but she wasn't very tired anymore. She replied quietly, "Mmhmm. Bad dream – I don't even remember it now."
He grunted softly and then she felt his head moving against the pillow until his breath was right against her neck and his chin hair was tickling her skin. She smiled as she felt his lips lightly pressing to the most sensitive spot on her neck, planting a series of small kisses. He grunted again, but it was more like a sigh as the remaining tension in his muscles disappeared and he relaxed against her.
"Don't remember, huh? Too much beer?" Daryl's voice was breathy and husky.
Beth continued smiling to herself, recognizing the slight hesitation in his tone. "No… I remember everythin' from when I was awake."
"Hmm," he grunted, kissing her neck softly again.
She leaned her head away just enough that she could turn and look at him through the darkness of the tent, watching him lift his heavy eyelids and gaze back at her from inches away. She wasn't sure if she'd become really good at reading him, or if she was just seeing something she hoped to see. But she had a feeling that she knew what direction he was trying to go with his questions and curious grunts. And admittedly, it was one of the first things that had popped into her head, too. Mostly because she was beginning to feel a little foolish for letting herself open up the way she had after a few beers. Part of her hoped he'd forget it and let it go, especially if he didn't feel the same. But now she was getting the sense that he wasn't completely turned off by the idea of her being in love with him. Actual love.
She'd been afraid that it had scared him, spooked him away from how close they were getting and how quickly things had been moving. But now she could see, that wasn't what scared him. He'd never admit it, but he feared the same thing she did: allowing himself to love someone who wasn't going to stick around. Allowing their feelings and their relationship to spiral into something neither of them had any control over. Allowing themselves to need each other. Mostly, she could see that he was afraid of admitting it. Because if he acknowledged that it had grown into a beast of its own, then he'd be admitting that he allowed himself to lose control, and that she had at least some sort of power over him. And that's how you set yourself up to get hurt.
So what did she have to lose at this point? She knew how she felt. Maybe he did, too, and if he wasn't ready to admit it, then she'd understand. But it was pointless for her to deny it, or to try and act like Daryl didn't have just as much power to hurt her as she did him. Because he already knew – he had to. So he already knew how much she was trusting him.
Besides, there was just no way she could keep it to herself – her feelings for him, the way he'd deeply affected her in such a small amount of time. And the last thing she'd want would be for Daryl to think that she only loved him when she was drunk. She wanted to make sure he knew that she meant it, and that even if he didn't feel it, she was positive of what it was and confident in what she felt.
"I do," Beth whispered. "I didn't say any a that 'cause of the beer. I said it 'cause I mean it."
She saw his lip twitch and then he was blinking, crease forming in his brow as he stared back at her, seemingly trying to study her expression and figure out if she was joking or not. She could see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. His eyes flickered with doubt and she could sense the hesitation and the slight fear. And then he asked, "How can you be so sure?"
There it was: the cloud of doubt that constantly plagued him. His silent conviction that there wasn't anyone alive who would ever love him in that way, no one that he could ever trust not to leave and shatter his entire world.
Her smile faded and she stared into the swirling depths of his dark blue eyes, watching as a hundred different thoughts and self-conflicts passed through them. She suddenly felt a sadness so deep that it penetrated her bones. To think that someone like Daryl could be so unconvinced that they were worthy of love or appreciation. She wanted to change that, even if it took her entire life and every shred of energy she had left. Even if it made her a hypocrite for being unable to believe it for herself.
She chewed lightly on her bottom lip for a second, then replied with a slew of words that had been floating around in her head for weeks. They spilled out of her like the lines of poetry she used to write in her journal. "'Cause it feels like somethin' in my soul recognizes you. Like I was waitin' for you to come along… And because I know you in a way that I've never wanted ta know anybody else before. And yer not like anybody I've ever met before. You're better."
A shadow of uncertainty crossed Daryl's face and he continued staring back at her, brow furrowed and lips pressed tightly together. Beth paused and studied his expression. It felt like he might be close to believing her, but she couldn't be sure. At this point, all she cared was that he believed her. She wasn't thinking about whether or not he felt the same – she just wanted to make sure that he knew it was possible, and that he was fully deserving of any ounce of love or good that she might be capable of giving him.
She wanted him to know that he had it. He had all of it. If he wanted it.
When a few long seconds passed and he didn't say anything, she ignored her quickening pulse and continued, "I know it's kinda soon. An' I didn't say it 'cause I expected ta hear it back, an' definitely not 'cause I was drunk. I just wanted you ta know that… that's how I feel. That I mean it and that it's… real."
She could see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, and before the silence could settle between them and she could start second-guessing everything she'd said, he rumbled, "Not like anybody ya ever met, huh? Must not a met many people before."
A playful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and Beth smirked, heart skipping inside her chest and butterflies coming to life in her stomach. The air of tension between them immediately lifted.
"You really don't give yerself enough credit – even if I ain't known many people, yer still one a the best men I've ever known." She'd said it before, but she felt it was worth saying a million times over, until he finally believed her.
Even in the darkness of the tent, she could see the bright red blush creeping up Daryl's neck and into his cheeks. His eyes flicked away from hers bashfully and her smirk grew into a grin. She rolled over in his arms until their chests were pressed together and she was leaning up against his arm, facing him directly while they were still inches apart.
She watched his eyes slowly focus in on hers again, pupils wide in the darkness, and continued grinning as she whispered out light-heartedly, "They really broke the mold when they made you, Daryl Dixon."
He rolled his eyes but before he could disagree or even grunt in response, Beth closed her eyes and pressed her mouth to his, kissing him longingly. It only took him about half a second to kiss her back, his hand quickly reaching up and grasping the back of her head. She felt him smiling against her lips.
When they broke apart, she opened her eyes and met the same swirling pools of cerulean, but every trace of doubt had disappeared. Instead, there was admiration and longing, and a little amusement. Maybe even a bit of the same thing she felt when she looked at him: love.
He was smiling, hand still loosely grasping the back of her head. "I don't believe that," he mumbled. "But since yer sayin' it – I won't call ya a liar."
A pang of guilt throbbed in her gut and she ignored it, leaning in to steal another kiss.
She kept her eyes closed and barely pulled away, whispering softly against his lips, "Well, believe it. I done went an' fell in love with you." Then she pressed her mouth to his again, kissing him deeper this time.
His grasp tightened on the back of her head and she heard him groan softly in his throat. She wrapped an arm around him and closed every tiny space of distance between their bodies inside the sleeping bag. Their kiss deepened and the blood began to rush between her thighs, pooling in that deep spot just below her stomach, sending familiar shivers of anticipation through her arms and legs. Beth flicked out her tongue and swiped it across Daryl's lips, but instead of parting and allowing entrance, he broke the kiss and pulled back.
She opened her eyes and looked at him quizzically to find him gazing back at her with a curiously thoughtful expression. There was a flicker of exposed vulnerability in the blue depths that stared back at her. Then he opened his mouth, gaze growing intense.
Her breath stuttered in her chest when his deep, husky growl of a voice filled her ears, barely more than a low whisper, "Think I'm in love with you, too."
Beth couldn't suppress the grin that formed on her face as the butterflies flapped wildly in her stomach and her heart raced with excitement. A warmth and satisfaction she couldn't remember ever feeling before began rushing through her body, and she had the sudden urge to jump out of an airplane or climb a mountain. She was filled with an indescribable strength that made her feel like she could do anything right now. And the glow in Daryl's eyes was only feeding it, making the feeling stronger until it was a blazing fire in her belly.
She wanted to take his hand, grab Malachi, and flee into the woods with them, never to be seen or heard from again. She wanted to hop on a plane and fly across the ocean with them. She wanted to run far away from all the pain and heartache in her past, and Daryl's, and plant roots somewhere entirely new, where she and the boys could grow their own garden of fresh, new, unconditional love. Without lies or hurt or mistrust. Without police interference. Without all the ghosts that had hitched themselves to the notches of her spine.
Without the painful ball of guilt that had embedded itself deep within her intestines.
Instead, she kissed him again. Desperately, hungrily. His grasp tightened on the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair, and he pulled her closer, groaning in his throat. Beth slid her tongue past his lips to explore his mouth, their chests pressed flush together, body heats merging as they scrambled to get closer, tugging at each other's clothing and digging fingers into flesh. Daryl's words echoed through her head, replaying on a loop and sending more electricity straight between her legs. Their breathing grew heavier, chests heaving against one another, lips desperately scrabbling while their tongues battled passionately.
Within seconds, all the other thoughts had faded away. The primal need throbbing between her thighs was taking over, fogging her brain and erasing every single worry. She could think of nothing but his deep voice whispering out to her. She could focus on nothing but his soft lips, his roaming hands, and the closeness of his warm body to hers.
For a moment – until her mind jumped in to plant the seeds of doubt. Until she momentarily felt overly aware of where she was, who she was with, and what she was doing.
Goddammit, Beth thought. It's so easy to get lost in you. Too easy.
It was almost a silent accusation – even though she knew it was all her own fault. She was the one lying to him, seducing him, falling in love with him. Daryl was just her hapless victim, blind to the truth and following her lead, letting her rip down all his defenses as his vulnerability slid out from beneath his skin like blood seeping from an infected wound. She was in too deep now, drowning in it; the lust, the love, the need. She couldn't swim her way up and away from his encompassing grasp if she wanted to. The surface wasn't even visible anymore.
"You think…?" Her voice tumbled from her parted lips, ghosting across his, on the same breath as a light whimper.
She couldn't open her eyes, couldn't bring herself to meet his penetrating gaze. She didn't know where the question had come from, just that she suddenly needed an answer – needed to feel a surge of reassurance. She needed to know that he wasn't undecided. That he was as sure as she was of what had formed between them. That he was submerged just as deeply as she was, and that they could sink down farther hand-in-hand.
He huffed, like a humorless laugh. His fingers dug into the back of her head and she could feel his face heating up as he whispered back, "I know… I am."
Beth had to press her mouth harder against his to stop herself from spilling any more confessions, pushing her tongue past his lips and finding his teeth, nibbling lightly on his bottom lip. Daryl pulled her even closer, grasp tightening on the back of her head as he urged her against him. Her thigh brushed across his rapidly growing erection, sending a rush of blood between her legs. He groaned into her mouth in reaction and she shivered lightly, wrapping her arms tighter around him and slipping her hands beneath his shirt to find the soft skin of his back.
What if you knew that I was a murderer? She wanted to ask. What if you knew that I was nothin' but a coward, living in fear and lying to you? Fooling you into thinkin' I'm strong? Into thinkin' I'm good? Would you still be sure? Could you still be able to love me?
She kissed Daryl more fervently, pressed her body against his with more need and persistence. He mimicked her motions, rough fingers searching for skin contact amongst the layers of clothing. A few moments later, he'd managed to slip off her shirt and expose her bare torso, the cool chill of the air causing goosebumps to form all over her skin. Her nipples hardened and peaked and he quickly found them with one hand, squeezing and rolling them between his fingers intermittently. His other hand worked to slip down her pants, and then she was helping him to pull them off her feet and shove them aside. His cock was hard and twitching beneath the thick cotton of his longjohns, and he rolled his hips up into hers, searching for friction.
There was something more intense in his movements, in the way he pressed himself to her and visibly ached for her touch. Like she was seeing a raw, cracked-open Daryl lying beneath her. The fire in Beth's belly was no longer being fed solely by the words that had slipped so effortlessly off his tongue, but also by the inescapable need that seeped from every pore of his body as he grasped at her desperately and pulled her impossibly closer. He was silently crying out for her with every slight motion of his hips, with every finger that tangled itself into a tendril of dyed-black hair, with every throaty groan that vibrated against her swollen lips.
And she was swallowing it all up, absorbing it into herself, trying to remember it as some form of muscle memory that she could recall later on, when she was inevitably alone again. She was sure he could feel her returned need, especially since he was beginning to pant heavily and his lips were struggling to capture hers, his muscles tensing as he resisted taking control and allowed her to writhe against him. He groaned again. He was constantly groaning – in the most delicious way. She smiled against his lips and dug her fingers into the soft, warm flesh of his back.
There was something else between them that was different. This time was somehow unlike any others – even though every time with Daryl had been unlike any others. But this wasn't like the love she'd experienced with Jimmy, naïve and full of hope and first times and pipe dreams. And it wasn't like a frenzied night in the dark after hours of overthinking, or a kiss on the couch after a few too many drinks, or a physical bandage for an emotional wound. It was natural and primal and somehow, there was a deeper emotion behind every slight movement. An emotion that was so palpable, it invaded her senses just like his musky scent and husky growl. He was telling her something with his movements and his tongue in her mouth, something important and strikingly honest.
He means it, Beth thought. Jesus Christ, he loves me.
Her hands roamed the expanse of his bare back while his fingers disentangled from her hair and quickly found their way to her lower back. His palms were hot against her pebbled skin, and she pressed her bare chest against the soft fabric of his shirt once his hands had abandoned her breasts. More shivers and goosebumps ran the length of her limbs as his calloused hands slipped beneath the waistband of her pants, completely bypassing her panties to grasp handfuls of her bare ass.
And then the guilty thoughts were dissipated in her mind – or at least, pushed to the back for the time being. The warmth and roughness of Daryl's hands on her bare skin was enough to stoke the flame already blazing inside. She giggled softly against his lips and kissed him harder, eliciting another groan from his throat as he squeezed her ass and his fingers found purchase at the spot where her thighs met her butt.
A wave of pleasure washed over her and gathered between her legs, and she reflexively rolled her hips into his. He returned the motion and, in response, dug his fingers in deeper to the fleshy part of her ass. She swallowed back a quiet moan and teasingly scraped her fingernails against his back. Which only caused him to buck up into her, brushing his throbbing cock against her inner thigh, lips grappling hers with need.
Daryl palmed her cheeks, massaging them in his hands while simultaneously pulling her into him, closer and tighter. His fingers reached a little closer towards the apex of her thighs each time he massaged the fatty flesh, and Beth arched her back to allow easier access, pressing her ass up into his hands and urging him to stretch his fingers just a few inches farther. The heat between her legs was building rapidly, pooling and intensifying as she reveled in the feel of his calloused hands on her skin, his hot chest pressed against hers, his rough fingers slipping smoothly around the contours of her ass to reach between her upper thighs.
The way their bodies fit together, she could've swore they were made for each other. Every curve and jut of her own body seemed to interlock with every crevice and nook in his, and she alternated between arching her ass into his hands and grounding her hips against his, small breasts still pressed close against his broad chest. He groaned every time she made contact with the hard bulge in his pants, and after a few seconds of sweet torture, he was cupping the bottom of her ass and digging his fingers into her upper thighs. Then he rolled them both over, until he was on his back and she was lying atop him inside the sleeping bag. And he pulled her down against him, hard and insistent, a grunt escaping from his throat that melted into a groan of desire as he explored her mouth with his tongue and rolled his hips up into hers.
Without any more urging necessary, his fingers quickly slipped below the cusp of her ass and between her thighs to find the warm wetness. Beth shuddered and groaned into his mouth, kissing him hungrily and digging her fingernails into his back. She felt his lips curving into a mischievous smile and then his fingers were tracing through the wetness that had pooled, finding the lips of her labia and tracing through them until he found her pulsing clit. When he pressed down onto it, a small squeak escaped her throat. She arched her back and pressed her aching cunt up against his hand, and a surge of anticipation rushed through her when his throaty groan filled her ears and she felt the pressure between her legs.
Their breathing quickened, mouths barely pulling apart to gasp for air as Daryl's fingers continued to tease Beth's clit, tracing through the gathered juices, fingertips brushing past the entrance to her pussy and sending uncontrollable shivers down her legs. She felt his stiff cock grinding against her leg again, and she slipped one hand from his shirt and reached down to bury it into his pants, grasping blindly beneath the thick fabric of his longjohns. The hand that was still cupping her ass gave a firm squeeze when she found his cock and wrapped her small hand around it, eliciting another groan from his swollen, parted lips.
He kissed her again, hard and desperate, and his groans vibrated through her mouth as she gave his cock a few light, teasing strokes. Then she withdrew her hand from his pants and grabbed the hem of his shirt with both of her hands, pulling it up. She suddenly craved the warmth of his bare skin against hers – more. She wanted to feel every arc and dip of his body, every scar, every piece of flesh that was stretched taught against toned muscle.
And he didn't object, pausing his motions in order to help her take his shirt off and toss it aside. Then he was frantically yanking his longjohns down his hips and off his legs while Beth pulled off her own pants. When they resumed their heated kissing and his firm grasp on her ass, she could feel his body heat even more intensely, and it seemed to grow hotter as it joined with hers to fill the sleeping bag. Feeling his bare chest and stomach against hers sent the blood rushing through her veins at high speed all over again, a blush creeping its way up her neck and to her cheeks.
His fingers traced their way back through the ever-building wetness between her thighs, and then he was teasing her clit and her aching cunt at the same time. She quickly reached down to grasp his hard cock in her hand, breaking their kiss and burying her face into the crook of his shoulder to softly kiss his neck as she began to stroke his throbbing dick. He shuddered against her and let out a soft growl, and half a second later, he was slipping his finger inside her dripping wet pussy.
Beth let out a gasp against the skin of Daryl's neck and the groan he bit back vibrated through his chest, then he slipped another finger in and grasped her ass tightly with his other hand, holding her in place as her thighs shook atop him. Her lips were hovering over the spot she'd been kissing on his neck, breath stuttering out involuntarily. Then he wiggled his fingers inside her and slid them in farther, pushing past her tight entrance and slipping between the aching, swollen walls. Her hand briefly tightened around his cock, nearly forgotten in her hand but still twitching and throbbing, and she swiped her thumb over the head, slick with precome. His fingers jerked inside her in response and she moaned softly before kissing his neck with desperation.
A mumbled slur of words escaped his parted lips as he explored her wet cunt, finding his way to the most reactive spot, slipping in up to his knuckles as her juices leaked out and down his hand, "Shit, babe – "
But she quickly raised her head and covered his mouth with hers, kissing him hungrily and cutting him off. A wave of pleasure washed over her when his fingers curled inside her, pressing against the back of her clit and making her thighs briefly tremble. She pulled her lips from his just enough to let out a shaky breath, her hand giving his cock a squeeze before she teasingly stroked it a few more times. His fingers pressed harder up into her and she heard the breath hitch in his throat, his hips bucking up toward her hand.
Beth writhed atop Daryl's large, sturdy body, perspiration forming on their skin. His cock was stiff and twitching in her hand, begging for more contact, and her pussy pulsated around his long fingers, begging for more as well. She slid her hips over just slightly, enough that he could feel the heat from between her legs on his thick, waiting erection. She heard him let out a shuddered groan, then felt his hips bucking up toward her again. His fingers worked faster inside her, sending another wave of pleasure through her muscles and forming faint stars in the backs of her eyelids.
His hand released its firm grasp on her ass and slipped around, squeezing between their bodies and reaching down to rub her clit. He continued his motions inside her cunt, and her entire body tensed over him, a moan trapped in her throat. Her lips were frozen against his as she barely rolled her hips into his hand, gaining just the right amount of friction on her damp, swollen clit.
Daryl growled from his throat and she felt his cock brushing against her labia, precome mixing with her juices. She ground down into his hand while his fingers moved rapidly inside her, curling and finding a steady rhythm, syncing with the pressure of his fingers against her clit. Her breathing came in desperate gasps and light pants, and he captured her lips in another kiss before nibbling lightly on her lower lip.
When he pulled back and brushed his throbbing dick more intently against her cunt, combining with the feeling of his fingers deep inside her, he growled, "Grab the condom – from m'pants."
His fingers and hand paused their motions and Beth's eyes opened to find his deep, blue pools staring up at her, pupils wide and eyelids heavy in the darkness. Only because he'd stopped did the logical part of her brain begin to work again, and she quickly nodded and released his thick, stiff cock from her hands. She heard a small breath of disappointment escape his lips as she struggled to sit up and reach over for the pair of jeans abandoned on the floor nearby.
A few moments later, still hovering on the hazy precipice of orgasm and desperate to resume as soon as possible, she planted soft kisses along Daryl's jawline while he struggled to slip a condom on over his painfully swollen erection. And then it was on and he was grunting in satisfaction and turning his head to meet her lips, kissing her hungrily and wasting no time slipping his fingers back inside her and pressing the palm of his other hand against her clit, massaging her most sensitive areas from the inside out.
She moaned into his mouth and rolled down against him, urging his fingers deeper until he was finally resuming his position from earlier. He maneuvered his hips until his thick cock was resting between her thighs, twitching against her wet lips as his fingers worked the back of her clit, picking up speed until her legs were trembling and her breathing had become gasps and pants into his mouth. Despite the thin layer of latex, she could still feel his dick pulsing and quivering with need and anticipation, enveloped in the heat radiating from her soaking cunt.
Beth braced herself against Daryl's broad chest, hands pressed to his bare skin, his heart hammering away beneath her palms. The rest of her body worked of its own accord, and as she craned her neck back and away from his face to take in a deep breath, her muscles went rigid around him and her walls contracted and clenched around his fingers. His lips pressed to the skin of her throat, groaning softly as he leaned up into her. His cock grazed past her dripping wetness and they simultaneously moaned.
She felt her climax mounting, building and about to burst as his fingers continued massaging her clenched walls, palm ground down against her aching clit. She gasped out breathlessly, "Oh, baby, I'm gonna – "
He grunted, husky voice rumbling against the soft skin of her exposed throat, "Hunh-uh – not without me."
Her breath hitched in her chest and she was still frozen, inches away from tumbling over the edge as he withdrew his fingers and abandoned her clit. She let out a small whine of protest, but it had barely filled the air around them when she felt him grasping her hip with one hand while his other hand guided his twitching cock to her entrance. Her cunt was sensitive and swollen, begging to be filled, and his dick slid inside effortlessly as his other hand guided her hips down onto it, until she'd eagerly taken his entire length inside. She didn't let out her breath until she felt him exhaling beneath her, contracting walls enveloping his long member and a sharp tingle running all through her body as he filled her to the brim.
She sat up just enough to plant the bottoms of her feet on either side of Daryl's waist, hands still placed firmly on his muscular chest for balance. He used one hand to grasp her hip and keep her steady while the other moved between her legs and worked her clit. Then he was guiding her into a rhythm, and as she gained momentum, she began to take over, leading the motions as she slid up and down on his throbbing cock.
She sped up quickly, finding the pace they'd previously reached and feeling the climax rapidly returning and mounting even higher than before. The tent was filled with their gasps and pants and muffled moans, deep groans of pleasure and the slapping of skin against skin. The cover of the sleeping bag had slid down to Beth's waist, leaving their torsos exposed to the cool air. But it didn't faze them because they were already damp with sweat, skin flushed and pink with excessive blood flow, filling the tent with the smell of sweat and sex.
Beth rode his cock faster and faster, slight whimpers escaping her mouth. Daryl grunted and cursed under his breath, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hip while the other massaged her clit relentlessly. Her tight walls contracted around him, urged him in deeper. His hand released her hip and moved up to grasp her breast, tweaking her hard nipple between his fingers, thrusting up into her as he massaged the tender skin and she moaned in response.
"F-fuck – c'mon, girl, come with me," he gasped out, his gruff voice hitting her ears and sending fresh jolts of arousal straight down to the building explosion between her legs. Almost like he was finally giving her permission.
As if she needed any more reason beside the way his cock was convulsing and quivering inside her, hearing him beg for it was the last push she needed to allow herself to finally be consumed by the edging submersion of orgasm.
"I'm – I'm coming, baby," she squeaked out, eyes squeezed shut as her entire body tensed and shuddered, walls clenching with a death-grip around his cock. Her fingers dug into the rippling muscles of his chest.
His hands froze on her body and he grunted softly, hips bucking up into her and a heavy shudder racking his muscles as he spilled inside her. "Fuck, babe – !"
Beth rolled her hips down into him, milking him for every last bit he had, and he shuddered again. An after-shock coursed through her stomach and legs and she moaned, digging her fingers into his chest briefly, riding out the last waves of pleasure before relaxing against him. She exhaled a deep breath of relief and blinked away the fog and stars in her vision.
Before she could lean down and kiss him, or release his wilting cock from the soft, sensitive grasp of her swollen cunt, Daryl was wrapping his arm around her waist and leaning up. Then he'd sat up, still inside her as she sat in his lap and her legs wrapped around his waist. He reached his other hand up to cradle the back of her skull, kissing her softly from the top of her chest, across the tender skin of her neck, along her jaw and cheek, and finally meeting her lips. He silently worshipped her body with his mouth. She kissed him back hungrily, her arms over his shoulders, peaked nipples brushing against the warm, damp skin of his bare chest.
She smiled against his lips, hearing every unspoken word as he kissed her harder and more meaningfully. And when they parted for air, she opened her eyes and gazed down at him from beneath heavy eyelids, still smiling. His eyes slowly opened and he gazed back with wide, yawning pupils and a hazy smirk.
The urge was bursting and blooming in her chest, more irresistible than ever, and before she had a chance to hesitate, she whispered out, "I love you."
His face seemed to relax, as if she'd just given him the final bit of release he'd really been needing. And she had a feeling that if she hadn't said it, he wouldn't have either. The corner of his lips tugged into a more prominent smirk.
"I love you," he quietly mumbled, and quickly pressed his mouth to hers in another deep kiss.
She closed her eyes and kissed him back, and her hand found its way to the back of his head to tangle in his thick hair. She pulled him a little closer, kissing him harder, then pulled away. Her eyelids fluttered open and watched as his tongue flicked out and across his lower lip, like he was still tasting her. She felt his cock twitch reactively inside her.
"You mean it, huh?" She asked, barely loud enough for him to hear as her breath wafted across his lips.
His lips tugged into another smirk and he grunted softly. "Wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."
Beth covered his mouth with hers in another ravenous kiss, trying her best to swallow his words and his intentions and his feelings. Trying everything she could to memorize them and hold them close, keep them somewhere that she could always refer back to when needed.
Because this, hands down, was one of the best feelings she'd ever experienced in her short life.
Several minutes later, after cleaning up and finding all their discarded clothes and redressing, Beth crawled back into the sleeping bag and got comfortable with her head on the pillow. Daryl followed, slipping in and snuggling close to her side in the warmth of the cocoon-like bag. To her surprise, he slid down to rest his head on her chest and wrap his arms around her waist, curling into her in an almost cat-like fashion. She got a warm tingle all through her body as she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer. They fit together like human puzzle pieces once more.
He let out a long breath, relaxing into her, the side of his face resting on the small, cushiony area of her breast. Her heart quickened at first, but then it steadied and her breathing gradually matched with his. They seemed to melt into their private cocoon. Her hand wandered up and her fingertips traced along the stubble on his jaw, causing him to shiver. Then she began absent-mindedly carding her fingers through his shaggy hair, gently massaging his scalp. He groaned in satisfaction and nuzzled his cheek into her breast. She could feel all the remaining tension draining from his shoulders and jaw. His hands slipped beneath her shirt and he placed his palms against her warm skin, sending chills up her spine until his fingers were the same temperature as her back.
As relaxed as Beth was, the pull of sleep had left her for now and her eyes wouldn't stay closed. She hummed in contentment as she continued playing with Daryl's hair, reveling in the warmth of his body and the way he clutched her close to him, like he thought she might float away while he was asleep. A smile tugged relentlessly at the corners of her mouth and she breathed in his musky scent, mixed with an air of sex and campfire smoke.
His voice caught her off-guard, gruff and sleepy and cutting through the heavy blanket of silence abruptly. "Sure you don't wanna leave?"
A foreboding sensation stirred in her gut and drifted up to fill her chest, heart skipping. She swallowed and the smile faded from her lips. But her response was completely honest. "That's the last thing I'd ever want."
He grunted softly and nuzzled his cheek into her breast again, and she felt him take in a deep breath. Her fingers massaged his scalp and weaved through tendrils of dark hair.
"Promise ya won't?" He asked, a mumbled whisper.
The raw honesty and palpable vulnerability in his voice sent a painful pang through her stomach. Beth swallowed back a knot that threatened to form into tears and shut her eyes. The only ounce of confidence she could find was in the thought of running away with Daryl and Mal – far away. Disappearing together.
And that's what she thought about as she responded, "Promise."
His hands flexed against her bare skin and his arms held her a little tighter. He exhaled a long breath that resembled relief. She wondered if he could hear how fast her heart was beating.
Even though she most certainly was not lying this time. She meant it. All of it. She wanted to give Daryl every last bit of good that was inside of her, wanted to show him the happiness and love that he'd always deserved and still wasn't convinced of. And if that meant risking her life, her freedom, and nearly everything about life that she thought she'd known, then so be it. It was the least he deserved for the way he'd made her feel over the last month, for the way he'd practically saved her from self-destruction.
Maybe it was reckless and foolish, maybe it was more selfish than selfless, but she no longer cared. This scarred and cracked man in her arms was the most honest, compassionate, and loyal person she'd ever fucking met, and between him and his son, she knew that she'd never stood a chance. It was inevitable that she'd fall in love with them and become attached in a way that was impossible to forget. Impossible to walk away from.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Maggie would be so disappointed in me. Everything was supposed to be temporary. Everything was supposed to be detachable, she thought briefly.
But then she felt Daryl stir against her, snuggling in closer, resituating his arm beneath her so that he could hold her tighter and feel more of her bare skin on his palm. And every single ounce of regret melted away, just like everything else had melted away when they'd cuddled up together inside the sleeping bag.
She closed her eyes and breathed him in again, forced herself to focus on the feel of his soft hair between her fingers, the warmth of his face against her chest and the heaviness of his arms around her. The sounds of the woods around them drifted in from outside, faint and muffled. For a long moment, she convinced herself it was all a dream. There was no way this could be real, that Daryl could be real.
But he was. He was real and solid beside her, beneath her hands, his pulse thumping in tune with hers. She pressed her lips to the top of his head, felt how real he actually was. And before sleep even had a chance to wrap its welcoming arms around her, music was filling her head – like it usually did during moments of incomparable contentment or satisfaction.
Sometimes it felt like her soul wanted to burst out into song, like the only way she knew to express herself was with a pen or with music. Like there was something trapped inside her, begging to be let out, and it escaped piece-by-piece in lines of poetry and flowing harmonies.
"I hear the clock, it's six a.m. I feel so far from where I've been…"
Daryl's muscles tensed momentarily when her voice began filling the tent, barely breaking the silence and echoing out around them softly. But then he realized she was singing and he seemed to relax and sigh into her.
She followed a tune that was playing clearly in her head. A song from the nineties that her sister had liked. The words flowed from her lips without much effort, making her chest swell with an indescribable happiness, lips wrapping comfortably around each syllable.
"…I never put wet towels on the floor anymore, 'cause dre-eams last so long, even after you're gone. I know that you love me, and soo-oon you will see… You were meant for me. And I was meant for you…"
Beth's fingers raked through Daryl's hair, and she gazed up through the darkness at the top of the tent as she sang. The music was playing in her head like a clear memory or a dramatization. Even though she wasn't thinking of the farm or her family. All she could focus on was Daryl beside her, his arms around her.
"…So I picked up the paper, it was more bad news. More hearts being broken, or people bein' u-used…"
She kept her voice soft and quiet, barely breaking through the silence in the tent. She felt him humming in contentment against her chest, nuzzling into her again. She thought about mornings spent in his apartment, and how it had felt like finding home in a wasteland. And she thought about nights spent in his arms, wrapped up in his warmth, sinking deeper and deeper.
"…I pick a book up and then I turn the sheets down, and then I take a deep breath and a goo-ood look around. Put on my PJs and hop into bed, I'm half alive but I feel mostly dead. I try an' tell myself it'll all be alright, I just shouldn't think anymore tonight, 'cause dreams last s-oo long, e-even after you're gone…"
The final chorus faded out around them and she planted another soft kiss to the top of his head as his whole body stilled beside her, his breathing becoming steady and his head resting heavily against her breast. Her chest felt lighter, filled with mountain air and blooming sunflowers rather than the anvil of guilt that normally occupied the space.
And a few minutes later, Beth had closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep as well, still wrapped up in Daryl with her cheek resting atop his head and his on her chest.
The dreams stayed away this time.
The tent was still dark when Beth awoke a few hours later. She drifted into consciousness at the sensation of soft, warm lips against her cheek and the tickle of stubble grazing her chin. A smile formed on her mouth before her eyelids fluttered open. Daryl's smell encompassed her and she expected him before he came into view, blurry through the sleep clouding her eyes.
"What're you doin'? It's still dark," she mumbled, turning her face to meet his lips and kissing him.
He smiled against her lips before they parted, and his deep voice rumbled, "Good time ta hunt 'fore the kid wakes up. Didn't ya say you wanted ta see me use that crossbow?"
Beth furrowed her brow and tried to recall what he was referring to, but it was either the half-sleep haze or her poor memory, because she couldn't remember saying that to him. Though she'd certainly thought about it several times.
"Huh?" She asked, smirking up at him quizzically.
He huffed in amusement and replied, "Yeah, you was 'bout four beers deep so you might not remember, but I heard ya say you wanted ta 'see me in action' – somethin' like that." He was smirking light-heartedly, half-teasing her.
She was grateful for the darkness of the tent because a blush was rising up her neck and into her cheeks and she giggled bashfully, reaching a hand up to rub the sleep from her eyes. She mumbled back, "Oh – yeah." He was probably right. There had been a time or two during the previous evening when she'd been talking rather animatedly to Sherry after drinking a good amount of beer.
"I can let ya sleep," he muttered, beginning to inch back and away from her.
She quickly wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him back in. "No – I really do wanna see you in action. We goin' now?"
He grunted sheepishly and pecked her lips with a quick kiss. "Yeah. If ya get up an' get dressed."
It took some serious pushing and self-motivation for Beth to drag herself from the warmth of the sleeping bag, but the excitement certainly helped. She kept thinking about how she'd hoped for a chance to go out and see Daryl in nature, to see what Dwight saw when they were together, to experience what he was like in his most natural state. It was obvious that Daryl felt more at home out in the wilderness than anywhere else, and she already knew that once he was in the trees, a weapon in his hands and an animal in his sights, it would be a moment she'd want to witness. Everything about him fascinated and endeared her, and she wanted to absorb as much as she could. She wanted to know as many sides of him as he would let her know. She wanted to understand him the way Dwight and Sherry and Carol seemed to understand him. Maybe better, if that was possible.
The air was crisp and damp, a cold breeze blowing through every few seconds, and the stars were still bright in the sky. There were hints of sunlight beginning to brighten the horizon, but based on the position of the moon, it would still be a couple of hours until sunrise. Dwight and Sherry's tent was dark and silent, assuring Beth and Daryl that Mal was still inside, sleeping soundly.
Daryl gathered up his crossbow and Beth volunteered to carry the rest of the equipment – a small bag of necessities and first aid supplies, as well as a game stringer to bring back whatever they might kill. He'd made them a couple thermoses full of instant coffee, which tasted terrible but Beth drank gratefully nonetheless. And then they trekked into the woods together, flashlight in Beth's hand as she illuminated the path that Daryl guided her towards.
The woods that surrounded their campsite were dense and dark, and they went a different route than they'd taken to reach the river. It brought them through thicker forestation, green shrubbery and undergrowth, and dark moss as far as Beth could see. She and Daryl trekked lightly and carefully, watching every step they took and staying mindful of all the obstacles beneath their feet. Daryl was nearly silent in his movements, and Beth tried to mimic him, but she found it nearly impossible to stay as quiet as he did. He was practiced in it, a natural tracker. The only thing she knew how to do that well was run. And hide.
She asked a few questions at first, like what kind of crossbow he had and what kinds of animals they were looking for. He answered briefly, explaining that it was a Horton Scout – nothing special, but he'd grown fond of it over the years – and that they were looking for anything small enough to quickly kill and cook up for breakfast. After that, she mostly remained silent, following his cues and finding herself not needing to ask more questions. Though the words eventually left her altogether because he was the only thing she could focus on.
Watching Daryl move with nature, blend into his surroundings, and focus in on nothing but the ground beneath him and the weapon in his hands was an indescribable sight for Beth. She stared, marveled, admired his every movement and stride. The way his arms flexed when he lifted the Horton, the way the muscles in his back stretched taught and threatened to burst through his thin shirt and vest. The way the beam of the flashlight momentarily caught the distressed wings on his vest and illuminated them, filling her chest with an inexplicable weightlessness. She couldn't help but think of her palms on his bare chest, her fingers carding through his thick hair, the way that this solid pillar of a man had melted into a puddle of veracity and vulnerability in her arms mere hours ago.
And now he was glancing back at her, flashing a knowing smirk every few moments, meeting her enthralled gaze with confident azure eyes. His face took on a new glow that only the misty darkness and the bright moonlight could bring about. And when he spotted a rabbit in the distance, and his hand reached out to halt her movements, she didn't even think twice about it. She immediately reacted, stopping dead in her tracks, keeping her flashlight completely still. It barely lit the path ahead, but it was enough to cast light over the rabbit peeking out from behind a bush about a yard away.
Daryl crouched down silently and brought his crossbow up to take aim, muscles flexing and tensing and body going rigid. She could see him reacting with pure instinct, the movements so ingrained into him that they had become second nature. And she could see the deep breath entering his lungs, holding in his chest as he steading his finger, sight locked on his target.
Then it released, and all his muscles went slack as he fired a bolt. Beth's eyes immediately followed and watched as the arrow entered the rabbit nearly dead-on, penetrating its tiny skull and sending it crumpling to the ground in a small, fluffy heap. A pang of guilt clenched her heart until she looked over and saw Daryl straightening his back and lowering the Horton, turning to look at her with a proud half-smile on his face. Then he leaned back a bit and his chest subtly puffed out, pectorals bulging beneath the thin fabric of his shirt.
When their eyes met, it was hard for her to feel anything but immense pride and joy. And adoration. She was sure she could watch him do stuff like that forever and never get tired of it. The whole experience was everything she'd hoped it would be and then some. His motions so fluid, his nature so instinctual and organic. Like all those documentaries she used to watch, like seeing a tiger being released back into the wild after months in a wildlife hospital. It just looked and felt right, and she couldn't help but share in the happiness that emanated off his entire being.
She briefly thought to herself that the world could end tomorrow and this man wouldn't really mind. It would just be a reason for him to retreat into the wilderness, to return to the place he so obviously belonged. And for just a second, she wondered to herself if he really would consider retreating into the wilderness with her. Away from society, away from police and media and murderous kingpins. But that idea was quickly pushed from her mind.
They approached the kill together and Beth kept the flashlight focused while Daryl retrieved his bolt and attached the small carcass to the stringer hanging from her bag. No words were exchanged, but they shared a handful of meaningful gazes and it felt like they were communicating silently.
Her heart fluttered and she smiled to herself as they turned and continued trekking through the woods, and she watched the way his legs carried him forward and his feet effortlessly navigated the tricky terrain. There was a small part of her that was also kind of enjoying the view of his butt from where she trailed behind him, the toned muscles moving just as fluidly as the rest of him. She had to pull her eyes away before the flutter made its way down to the spot between her legs and conjured up more memories of what they'd been doing mere hours before.
As they traveled together through the dense trees, Beth realized they didn't need to talk. Daryl was able to accurately convey everything he needed to through gestures and facial expressions, and she paid close attention, following his every lead and doing her best to keep the flashlight on what was important. There was an inescapable synergy between them that was growing more prominent with every synced step they took. She'd learned how to read him, despite their short time together. And they worked together well. She was even beginning to allow herself to think that they made a pretty damn good team. She felt a small burst of excitement and pride in her chest whenever he would give her a brief head nod, or flash her a flirtatious smirk. It was almost like he was impressed at how well she could decipher his wordless language, and how naturally they were able to cooperate with each other.
For a little while, as the darkness of the Catskill woods enveloped them and the stars struggled to peek through canopies of tree leaves, Beth began to think that maybe she did know Daryl. Maybe she had already learned to understand him in a way that most people didn't. Maybe, despite their short time together, they'd managed to find something that connected them far deeper than anyone else. Deeper than either of them could've ever expected or imagined, or prepared for.
And then, for a brief moment, she wondered if she was just fooling herself because she'd fallen so head over heels for him. What would Maggie say? Would she call it naïve, a symptom of infatuation and a whirlwind romance? Or would she see what she'd seen with Glenn – a man who finally got it? A man who filled that empty space like it had been waiting for him, like it had been molded specifically for him? In every unexpected way imaginable?
Beth knew the answer. She knew what her big sister would really think, what she'd really say. Especially considering the circumstances. And it was too disappointing – too painful – to think about.
So she didn't. She pushed it from her mind instead.
And then she focused in on Daryl: watched him gazing down at the disturbed leaves in front of him, watched him zoning into that space that only he could access. Watched him getting lost in it. Whether it was a trail left from a squirrel or a skunk or goddamn Sasquatch himself, she didn't know. Nor did she care. All she cared was that he cared. That he was willing, and predisposed, to following a trail, even though he had no idea what the trail would lead to.
And then she watched him turn his head and invite her inside that inaccessible space that he occupied, silently asking her to join him in the moment. With nothing more than a look; he conveyed every offer that he would never actually speak aloud. She could feel him slowly and tentatively pulling her in, welcoming her to a place that had been occupied by a very select few before her, silently asking if she'd like to stay a while.
She could hear him wordlessly asking her to take his hand, to trust him and follow his lead, to let him guide her toward a real purpose.
So she did.
During a momentary wave of self-doubt, Maggie's voice echoed through Beth's head from a memory she could barely recall anymore: "You think he's really worth riskin' all our lives?"
And the only response Beth could conjure, the only answer that reverberated around her skull as she watched Daryl intently and followed him closely, was a statement she'd never been able to voice. Never even had the opportunity to defend. That she would never have the need to explain to Maggie or Daddy or anyone else. Nobody but God Himself.
I do. she thought. I really do think he's worth risking all of it.
It was early spring in Georgia, and after two solid weeks of afternoon temperatures reaching the mid-seventies, Beth's momma decided it was time to start saving on the electricity bill again. She sent Beth and Maggie out to the long pair of clotheslines in the backyard to hang the freshly-washed sheets and blankets. The whole family was in the midst of their yearly spring cleaning, and Annette was commander-in-chief in their war on dust and clutter. Which meant washing every single piece of bedding in the house, including everything from the guest rooms. Beth and Maggie had grown used to it – it was a tradition, at this point. And they were more than happy to have an excuse to be outside, enjoying the warm sun and the crisp spring air after a long, cold winter.
Maggie had been seeing Glenn for nearly eight months and Beth couldn't help but notice how much happier her big sister had been lately. The prior year, she'd trudged around the backyard and mumbled angrily while helping Beth hang the wet laundry on the line. But this year, she was nearly bouncing everywhere, a smile on her face and the radio playing full-blast nearby while she sang along happily. She even grabbed Beth's hand and urged her to dance along a time or two. Not that Beth didn't like it, but it was just kind of odd for Maggie. Even though she knew exactly what had brought it about.
Not only had Maggie's relationship with Glenn been going well, but he'd also been around a lot more often. He was even beginning to stay the night sometimes – when Hershel wasn't around to express his displeasure with "pre-marital sleepovers." Beth had a feeling that Maggie's boyfriend was quickly becoming an integral part of the family, and that he might not be a pizza delivery boy anymore. Though she didn't ask because that was none of her business.
The Beach Boys were blaring from the radio nearby while Maggie bounced around, clipping clothespins to the corners of sheets on the clothesline. Beth hummed along and watched her sister from the corner of her eye while she worked, smiling.
"…Wo-ouldn't it be nice if we could wa-ake up! In the morning, when the day is new-w-w!" Maggie sang, her short brown hair fluttering in the breeze, sun-tanned face glowing.
When the song eventually ended and the radio went to a commercial break, Beth leaned down to pull out another wet sheet from the basket. She looked up at Maggie with a teasing smile while doing so and asked, "So when's the wedding?"
Maggie finished pinning the corner of a sheet and turned to face Beth, laughing and shaking her head. "Oh, whatever – don't be a dick."
Beth chuckled, her back straightening as she pulled out a wet sheet and stretched it out before her. "I'm not! I'm serious – you sure weren't this happy ta be hangin' laundry last year."
She saw Maggie roll her eyes and turn back to hang a large blanket. "What, I gotta have a reason ta be happy? Can't I just… enjoy life?"
Beth laughed. "You know that's not what I mean."
Maggie shrugged but the broad smile wasn't leaving her face, even as she struggled to keep the heavy blanket in position while attaching clothespins to it. "Well – I love 'im, Bethy. What else can I say? It just does somethin' to ya. It's hard to explain."
Beth briefly furrowed her brow, stepping back and leaning down to retrieve another wet sheet from the basket. "Y'don't gotta explain it – that's what all those movies an' books are for. I get it. Just seems weird fer you. I didn't think you liked him much, but then you started throwin' love around, an'… I dunno. Seems weird, s'all I'm sayin'."
Maggie scoffed and shook her head with a smug smile. "What – you think it's too soon? You think I'm bein' dumb an' lettin' myself get infatuated or somethin'?"
Beth stood up, wet sheet hanging limply in her hands, and met her sister's eyes with a frown and a nod. "Yeah. Kinda."
Maggie's smile faltered and she quickly turned away to busy herself with a separate basket. "Don't be stupid. When you know, you know. An' I'm plenty old enough ta know – yer not. You don't get it yet."
Beth rolled her eyes and continued hanging the sheet in her hands, her big sister's words entering one ear and immediately exiting the other. "Right. Yer not even that much older, it's not like yer so much more mature than me – "
"Except I am," Maggie interrupted, her voice becoming agitated. "You do a lot of growing between sixteen an' twenty-two – trust me. I think I'd know. Yer still very naïve. Just ask Momma – she'll tell you the same thing."
Beth thought her eyes might roll all the way back in her head. She suppressed a loud scoff and merely shook her head, muttering, "Whatever."
There was a frustrated silence between them for a few moments as commercials continued to play on the radio. Another song came on and the sisters continued hanging wet sheets and blankets, gradually moving their way farther down the parallel clotheslines. And even though Beth was frowning, Maggie had quickly gone back to smiling. Like she had her own personal oasis of happiness that she could access whenever needed. It made Beth wonder what the hell she was missing out on.
She silently stewed while the radio played more songs, the music incomprehensible to her at the moment as she got lost in thought. Maggie didn't seem to care because she was still working and had gone back to quietly singing along.
And Beth kept replaying the last eight months in her head, all the slight changes she'd seen in Maggie and the subtle differences that had slowly peeked through. It was mostly weird because Glenn was so not Maggie's type. In fact, he'd seemed almost scared of her for the first two months that he'd started coming around. Like, petrified. Especially when Hershel was around. But then something changed, and suddenly Beth was having to endure watching her big sister tease and flirt and make out with Glenn. And even Shawn seemed to approve of the guy – which had never been the case with any of Maggie's past boyfriends. Beth didn't understand what could've possibly changed between them, or what it was about Glenn that could've possibly endeared Maggie deeply enough to actually fall in love with him.
Which made her skeptical – because she knew, better than most, how stupid Maggie could actually be sometimes. No matter how much effort the eldest Greene sibling put into acting like she was flawless and all-knowing. Beth had been eyewitness to all the blatant mistakes and complete fuck-ups that Maggie had committed over the years.
When another commercial break came on the radio, Beth glanced over and watched Maggie for a moment. The brunette was nearly to the bottom of her last basket, digging around in the small bag on her belt for another clothespin. Still smiling to herself, like she had some kind of constant inside joke. All the frustration and aggravation had disappeared.
"So – what is it about him?" Beth asked, careful not to sound like she was trying to provoke another argument, her brow creased in curiosity as she quickly focused her gaze on the sheet in her hands. "That makes you so sure it's love?"
Maggie turned her head and gave Beth a knowing smile, shrugging bashfully. "'S just different. He's different. I don't even know how I got by so long without 'im – now that I know what life is like with him. I can't imagine it any other way anymore."
Beth sniggered and muttered, "What's that term you always use – codependent?"
Maggie shot her a glare, smile disappearing. Her eyebrows arched with self-assurance as she accentuated her statement, "I don't need him. I want him. There's a big difference. He's done nothin' but improve my life, an' add to it. He supports me, wants ta grow with me. That's not codependency… that's love."
Beth swallowed and furrowed her brow. "Just like that, though? Ain't even known each other a whole year."
Maggie arched a brow and frowned, and Beth knew that she felt at least a little ashamed of how quickly things had moved with Glenn. Especially when she had always been swift to spout her beliefs in 'taking it slow' – despite all her actions that had always exemplified the exact opposite sentiment.
Beth wasn't fooled by her big sister's bullshit. Maggie might have Momma and Daddy convinced, but she couldn't hide it from Shawn and Beth. And she knew that.
She sighed, still frowning as her defensive expression softened. A breeze ruffled her brown hair as she spoke, "I dunno how to explain it. There's a lotta things. I know – I know it could be temporary. I know it could change…" Any hint of doubt had completely left her tone as she continued, "But that don't mean I gotta hold myself back. I mean, what if this is the man I'm s'posed ta spend the rest of my life with? Am I gonna ruin it by convincin' myself that we don't know each other well enough ta tell if we're actually in love? I've pushed a lotta good guys away by doin' just that, and I'll be damned if I let myself ruin things with Glenn the same way… I love him."
None of these things answered Beth's questions. She was still skeptical of her big sister, doubtful as usual. Even though Maggie would never admit to it, she was just as blindly guided by selfish urges as anyone else in their family. No matter how confident she acted, or how carefully she'd articulated the mask that she so often wore.
"So," Beth said slowly and thoughtfully. "Like, unconditional, pure, Corinthians-style love?"
Maggie let out a soft chuckle and shrugged. "I guess so."
"But still… how do you know? I mean – are you sure it's not just really good sex or somethin'?" Beth asked, eyebrows raised expectantly as she gazed at her older sister.
Maggie rolled her eyes and visibly suppressed a smirk. "That's definitely not the case… It's – I dunno. It's stupid little things, but also really big, little things. That matter alot. Stuff you'd never realize you're missin' till you have it – stuff you never realized you needed."
Beth mulled over her older sister's words, reaching down and pulling out the last wet sheet from her basket and going about hanging it on the line alongside the others. Unsure of what else to say, and trying her best to avoid more frustration or arguing, she asked tentatively, "Like what?"
She saw Maggie shrugging from the corner of her eye, then the brunette paused and struggled with the final pin on the corner of her last wet blanket. At first, she replied, "I dunno…" And Beth thought that might've been all she had to say.
But then she finished her task and went about collecting her share of empty laundry baskets, stacking them together. As she held the last basket in her hands, she paused and Beth turned to face her. There was a thoughtful expression on Maggie's face, eyes narrowed and mouth set in a thin line as she worried her lower lip. She finally met Beth's quizzical gaze and a small smile formed on her mouth, celadon eyes lighting up with realization.
"It's – the way he talks to me. The way he talks about me. The way he makes me feel an' how we can tell what each other's thinkin', or how we're always in sync. The way he treats me an' all the stuff he does for me – an' not 'cause I expect it, but just 'cause he wants to do it. It's… the way he treats you guys, how he already loves you an' Shawn an' Mom an' Dad like they're his own family. And just… the way he looks at me. He treats me like some kinda goddess or somethin' – no guy has ever felt that way about me. Glenn wants ta see me happy, and I wanna be the one who makes him happy."
"Oh." Beth stared at Maggie, perplexed, unsure of what to say as she tried to fathom all the emotions being described. She was also processing this new information – it was all the things she'd missed, or hadn't seen. The emotionally intimate details that only Glenn and Maggie would know about, but the details that made their relationship work. What had caused it to bloom and grow so suddenly and rapidly. It was beginning to make sense to Beth, and she never thought she would, but she was thinking to herself about how it sounded like Maggie had actually found true love. What had even been the odds of that?
A few seconds of silence passed as Beth leaned down to pick up her own empty baskets, and then Maggie was speaking again. Her tone was thoughtful and almost wistful, like she was voicing a sudden afterthought that might or might not pertain to the subject at hand.
"Ya know, might sound stupid, but," she started, and Beth spun around to face her. She stared at Maggie's eyes, watched her glancing down bashfully at the baskets in her hands, a small smile on her lips as she hesitated.
"What?" Beth asked, beginning to smile as well.
Maggie shrugged and muttered, "I had this weird dream a few months ago – about Glenn."
Beth's smile quickly disappeared and she furrowed her brow. "About what?"
She wasn't sure where Maggie was going with this, but she watched as her big sister met her gaze again and the wistful smile began to falter. She explained quietly, as if she were sharing gossip, "It was – well, I dunno what it was about. It was more like a nightmare. I woke up all sweaty an' cryin'. But… I dreamt that I saw Glenn, and he was all-all bloody an' bruised. I dunno what was goin' on, but it felt like I was watching him die. It was so… terrifying. And the only thing I remember is bein' scared an' seein' 'im – and hearing him say, 'Maggie, I'll find you.' An' then I woke up." She paused as if the memory were causing her to wince.
Then Maggie shrugged and looked back down, finishing on a lighter tone, "And it sounds really stupid, but I felt so – different after that. Like, it made me realize how much I actually care about 'im when I thought about how I'd feel if I lost him, or if anythin' ever happened to 'im. It's just… stuff like that." She smirked and shook her head, looking at Beth and adding, "It's kinda like God's tryin' ta tell me somethin'. An' like Daddy says: you just gotta listen."
"Oh," Beth said, her brow still furrowed. "Well – yeah. That's not stupid. I think God talks to us in dreams sometimes. Momma thinks so, too."
Maggie chuckled but Beth wasn't sure why because she hadn't said anything funny.
"It's more than just dreams, though – don't go gettin' the wrong idea," Maggie said, gesturing for Beth to follow her back to the porch.
Beth rolled her eyes and gripped the stack of baskets in her arms, immediately recognizing the tone in her sister's voice. "I'm not stupid, an' I don't believe in fairytales anymore. Ya don't gotta worry about any boyfriends a mine anytime soon."
Maggie flashed a smirk as she turned around and began leading the way across the backyard, between the lines of wet sheets and blankets fluttering in the breeze. "Oh yeah? What about Jimmy? I've seen the way he's been lookin' at you lately."
Beth's stomach clenched and she nearly tripped as she followed Maggie, thankful that the brunette's back was turned so she couldn't see the flush of red in Beth's face. "What? Nuh-uh. He don't even talk ta me…"
Maggie laughed and turned her head to look back at Beth over her shoulder as they approached the steps to the porch. "Give it time. He'll grow some balls sooner or later."
Maggie ended up being right, of course. Not long after that conversation, Jimmy wandered up to Beth on a sunny afternoon and stuttered his way through asking her out on a date. Everything else had fallen into place after that, and Beth had thought she'd finally found what Maggie had been talking about.
Except she'd never had a dream like that about Jimmy – she'd never imagined the deep, abysmal fear of losing him. Couldn't even imagine it if she tried. In fact, she rarely dreamt about him at all. And for a long time, she told herself that it didn't mean anything. She told herself that love was more than being afraid of losing someone, and that it could be something other than wanting to put another's happiness before your own.
But deep down, she knew that was wrong. All wrong. It just took her a while to admit it.
When it came down to it, sisters had always meant more than blood relation. And she and Maggie weren't so entirely different.
The sky was gradually lightening and the sun was barely peeking above the horizon, flashlight stuffed into the bag as it was no longer needed, when Daryl offered Beth the Horton and asked if she'd like to learn how to hunt something. She'd watched him for nearly an hour, followed him for at least a mile or two, and synced with his subtle motions and discreet expressions. And she'd definitely thought about it. Shooting a gun and firing a crossbow were two completely different experiences, and her curiosity peaked with every arrow she watched rip through the air.
They already had two rabbits hanging from their stringer, and he could've shot a squirrel at one point, but Beth had stepped down on a stick and made a sound and the critter had scurried away. But Daryl didn't get upset, and he didn't even seem angry. He just gave her a disappointed shrug and moved on, silently gesturing for her to watch where she stepped more closely.
So when he gave her the opportunity to take his crossbow in her hands and carry its weight with her own arms, she eagerly accepted. A few minutes later, Daryl's front was pressed close against her back as his arms circled her and his hands guided hers to the proper placement on the heavy weapon. He whispered instructions and tips, his deep voice barely audible over the cries of birds and crickets around them. His hot breath on her neck and ear sent chills down her spine, but she forced herself to focus on what he was teaching her.
Within half an hour, he'd shown her the basic signs to look out for when tracking, as well as helped her to become familiar with the Horton. It still felt foreign and weighted in her hands, nothing like the Beretta or any of the guns that Maggie had taught her to use. However, Beth was determined to learn as much as she could, just like she'd always been. She listened intently to Daryl's every word and concentrated on stilling her muscles and slowing her breathing so that she was able to take proper aim on a squirrel in the distance.
Daryl's breath was hot against her ear and his voice was deep, gruff, vibrating through her skull as he whispered inches away. "Focus. Aim, breathe in. Picture where ya want the bolt ta go. Breathe out an' pull the trigger."
It was like a mantra, he'd repeated it several times already, and she was plenty familiar with it from perfecting the art of firing a handgun. But she still soaked it in like fresh information. Her muscles tensed, jaw clenching as she inhaled and focused in on the squirrel. Its bushy tail twitched, and briefly, she thought it might've looked up and spotted her. But then she was imagining the bolt penetrating its skull, or even its body, and the beaming smile that would surely appear on Daryl's face as a result. And she let out the breath she'd been holding slowly and evenly, pushing all her intent into the squeeze of the trigger.
And the arrow whizzed through the air and followed a straight course for the squirrel – hitting the tree half an inch to the left of the small critter's body. The squirrel jolted and skittered up the length of the tree, disappearing into the branches and leaves.
Beth groaned out softly, frowning and lowering the crossbow to turn and look at Daryl. He had leaned away and was gazing at the tree with disappointment, shrugging and turning to meet her eyes.
"Nice shot," he rumbled, one hand stroking the hair on his chin thoughtfully. "Helluva lot closer'an I expected ya to get."
She smiled and glanced back at the bolt protruding from the bark of the tree, her disappointment quickly fading. "Really?"
Daryl smirked and gave a brief head nod, eyebrows raising. "Yeah."
A warmth blossomed and spread from Beth's gut up through her chest and limbs. The Horton was no longer heavy in her hands, and as she followed Daryl over to retrieve the arrow, her eyes were drawn to his muscles stretching taught beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. He handed the bolt over and she took it carefully, sharing a coy smile with him at the same time. Their fingers brushed together during the exchange and that old, familiar fluttering came to life in her stomach.
For the next hour or so, he helped her track and hunt the small animals that inhabited the woods. She didn't manage to actually shoot anything, but when she kept making shots that were less than an inch short of making their mark, the expression of surprise never had a chance to leave Daryl's face. Nor did the feeling of warmth and pride that was quickly filling Beth's body. She was a quick learner, and that hadn't changed when it came to becoming familiar with the crossbow. She thought she might've been able to shoot every squirrel and rabbit she'd spotted, dead-on, if it hadn't been for the slight tremble in her fingers brought about by Daryl's close proximity.
Actually, she knew she could've.
And there was one point where she nearly did make a shot dead-on – when she'd crouched down and kept her eyes trained on a small fluff of brown fur peeking out from behind the bushes, and she'd willed her body to go rigid and still like Daryl's did when he had something in his sights. She'd clenched the Horton firmly in her hands, managed to briefly ignore Daryl's overwhelming presence. She'd peered over the weapon, eyes narrowed, gaze unflinching, and waited.
Then the rabbit had emerged, out in the wide open with nothing standing between it and Beth's arrow. It was large and fat, and Daryl made a faint grunting sound of acknowledgment from behind her. Beth had smiled to herself and moved her finger to hover over the trigger, setting the rabbit in her crosshairs and preparing to send an arrow directly through its head. She'd inhaled a deep breath, steadied her hand, and prepared to release everything simultaneously.
But then something else caught her eye – another small ball of fluff emerging from behind the bushes, hopping up to join the large rabbit. And then another, and another. Tiny versions of the large, fat rabbit that was sitting in her crosshairs.
A momma bunny and her three babies, Beth realized. As silly as she knew it was, she couldn't help but immediately think of her own momma. And then her finger was slipping away from the trigger and her grasp was loosening, baited breath exhaling from her lungs, and she slowly lowered the Horton. She continued gazing at the family of rabbits, watching as the mother waited for her babies to be at her side.
Daryl grunted softly to get Beth's attention and she turned her head to look at him, finding a quizzical expression on his face. He gestured questioningly toward the rabbit nearby. She knew what he was saying without having to hear it: Why ain't you takin' the shot? It's rightthere.
But she simply smiled back and shrugged lightly, turning her head to watch the bunnies as they slowly hopped away. She spoke softly, her voice a bit hoarse from not being used, "It's a momma an' her babies, Daryl. I can't kill 'er – they need her."
She heard him scoff lightly and she continued smiling, watching as the brown fluffs of fur trailed happily after their large mother, spooked into moving faster by the sound of Beth's voice.
It was like thinking aloud when the next statement slipped from her mouth: "They're all a little family, it's beautiful… Don't you think that's beautiful?"
She wasn't sure what had urged her to say it, because she hadn't particularly been thinking that way for the last year or so. Maybe longer. But now, she was feeling it again, stronger than ever. And kind of like watching Shiva the tiger with her babies back in the Philadelphia Zoo, this was a moment that was too touching for Beth to ignore, or try to brush off as meaningless.
And for the first time, she was thinking of her momma and not feeling complete loss and sadness. All she really felt was a slight longing sensation, like she really wanted to share the moment. With Daryl, specifically. Even though she knew he would probably think it was stupid and scoff at her, or admonish her for missing out on such an easy kill.
But when she turned and glanced back at him, she was pleasantly surprised to see a thoughtful expression on his face. He was stroking his chin hair and gazing at the bunnies as they hopped away, deep in thought, and Beth could've swore she saw the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Then his eyes met hers and he didn't nod, but he didn't shake his head either. And she thought… maybe. Maybe he saw it, too.
Or maybe he was actually the one showing her.
And then she wondered to herself how she could ever doubt what she felt for him, no matter what her family might say. Infatuation, naivety, love, immaturity, complete recklessness… at the end of the day, they were all the same thing in different disguises. Weren't they?
It didn't even matter, if she really thought about it – they were in prison. She wasn't. She was learning things that her family, and most of all, her sister, had never imagined she could ever learn. She was doing things they'd probably never thought she was capable of doing.
And at the end of the day, what did Maggie know anyway? Beth was the one who'd made it out of the farm, who'd outrun the police and evaded authorities for over a month. Beth was the one who'd killed a cop and fucking got away with it.
So who was the naïve one now?
to be continued…
A/N: Sorry for the long wait on this chapter, but hopefully the other fics I posted - Breathe. Please. and Crossing Galaxies - somewhat made up for it! The flashback in this chapter takes place in spring of 2016, one year before Shawn and Annette are murdered. And everything else picked up right where we left off before Detective Grimes IV, meaning it was late Saturday evening/very early Sunday morning.
The song Beth sang in this chapter was "You Were Meant For Me" by Jewel.
Huge thanks to courtneyshortney82, arrowsandangels, and graciemae11 for the helpful input while I wrote this chapter! As usual, there is a companion photo to go with this chapter on AO3, my tumblr, and the Most Wanted pinterest board.
I hope this chapter was worth the wait. Let me know what you think, as we'll be finishing the camping trip next Sunday!
