Sorry for the wait...got a lot of irons in the fire. If you like this one...please be kind and review.

Chapter 2

He knows someone has seen him layin' with Beth and he doesn't know who it is, but he doesn't care too much.

He hasn't said too much to her since she's been back. Hasn't known what to say really, and anything he can think of just seems plain stupid.

He could apologize, for letting her get taken…he knows he should , and he will, at some point. Wants to tell her 'bout how he chased that car, how he damned near ran himself to death. But what would be the point in that. He found her, even though it was nuthin more than chance he found her and he brought her back and now she has her whole family, and he's pretty sure she doesn't need him givin' her some long explanation about that night.

He tries to remember how things were between them. There's a whole bunch of things tat happened and a whole bunch of things that may have happened and he's spent so much time thinking about it he cant even really tell them apart.

One thing he knows did happen is that he broke down in tears at Grady. Shot that bitch cop right in the face and scooped up Beth in his arms crying like a damn baby and there's no hiding that. Everyone else was either crying or screaming, or clearing walkers so he's not so sure that it matters, but it matters to him. In that instant, when he'd heard that gun shot and seen her go down, he'd felt like a part of himself had been ripped out of his chest and he'd just lost control.

There was just too much shit going on around them all the time and it wasn't smart to get caught up like that. He loved all his family, all of em…and the only other person he could think of who could make him react like that would be Carol. He broke down in her arms too after Terminus. Cried from happiness like a damn woman…a pussy more like it, that's what Merle would say anyway. It didn't matter, he loved Carol. He knew that. That he was sure of, and now with Beth, he was all mixed up inside.

He hadn't planned on getting on that cot with her. Really he'd been waiting till everyone fell asleep so that he could come inside and go check on her. He'd wanted to look at her, really look at her. He'd missed her so damn much, even thinking about those weeks when she'd been gone burned a hole in his chest.

Then when he saw her, all curled up and tiny on her side, he just crawled in besides her. Didn't even know enough to stop himself, just knew that he needed to feel her warm, and soft and breathing and alive. He wanted just a minute to back to how things had been.

The Cabin's tiny and run down even worst than the Moonshine shack and even though its a piece of shit he knows its better than being outside. He's a little buzzed still, and he's pretty damn sure she's still drunk and for the life of him he cant imagine what the hell he'd been thinking when he agreed to burn that place down. It had four walls and a roof, and even though it was pretty much trashed it was better than this tiny shit hole and had a lot more room.

There's a lot of things he cant begin to believe he did. List goes on and on. Takin her there for starters and getting started on Moonshine; playing that stupid game, getting so pissed, hell takin a piss not ten feet away from her. Hell, as far as that goes how about manhandling her and draggin her outside like that. Putting hands on her, and screamin' in her face. Then of course breakin' down…cryin like a damn pussy when he was supposed to be the man. He was supposed to be the strong one.

And then damn, he ran a hand down his face, the whole part after…all that opening up and talkin' . Christ…he inhaled deeply, what the fuck had he been thinkin' ?

And then of course the fire. Burnin down their only shelter. Without lookin' for supplies or nuthin. Just torchin' a place as some sort of symbolic what not. Jesus Christ this girl was killin' him.

And now here he was, not barely done sittin' down after securin' this shithole that she plopped down ride besides him.

"Watcha doin ?" He asks setting his crossbow down besides him.

"Aren't we going to sleep ?" She asks, her eyes are bright, and her cheeks are pink, and he has to force himself to stop staring at her.

"Well," he grumbles scooting over and layin back, his arms folded behind his head. "Why'r you so close ?" He motions to the opposite side of the cabin. "Plenty of room over there."

"I'm not gonna sleep over there Daryl." she replies in a sing song voice as she stretches out besides him, rollin on her side , head propped up in her hands.

"What ?!" He turns to face her. This is new. This closeness. This desire to be near him. And with the drinking and the crying. he may be clueless, but he knows it aint right. "Nah," he shakes his head and motions for her to move. "Come on girl scoot."

Beth lowers her head besides him and stays on her side. He hears a long sigh, "I'm not moving Daryl." she says quietly. "I'm scared, and lonely…and sad…and I just …want to be…close."

He glares at her, expecting her eyes to close, or a drunken giggle to something…but she just looks at him and lins slowly without budging. "Goodnight Daryl." she says. And for the rest of the night he can feel her up against him. He's scared he'll roll or reach or do somethin', god forbid anything , even though its not likely. He's not used to sleeping with a woman, and he's too damn self conscious but still she's a kid and they've been drinking and he wants to make sure he keeps to himself.

When he wakes up there's a small space between them, and her hand is resting on his heart.

He thinks back on that now and wonders if she had felt just like he had tonight. Maybe she'd just wanted to feel him; warm and breathing and alive.

Anyhow, that had been the first night. Maybe it had been the alcohol, maybe her grief , whatever it was she had pushed up against him, and unless one of em had been on watch they hadn't slept apart again.

Thats pretty much when the touching had started. Not the bad kind of touching. He shook his head and looked down. Not anythin' inappropriate , but touching nonetheless.

First it had been brush of their arms when they were walking, or their legs touching as they sat. Then one day she had simply slid her hand right into his and intertwined their fingers. He hadn't known what to do. Couldn't remember ever having held hands with a woman. And he didn't know if it'd be worse to yank his hand away or keep it there, dead and dull hanging between them…shut off his brain and pretend it wasn't happening at all.

That night she had leaned up against him in the woods.

"Thank you Daryl," she whispered softly, her hand sliding into his again, her fingers twining.

"What ?" He turned to face her, all efforts focussed on ignoring their hands.

"You know what…." she smiled softly, and tugged at his hand. "Thank you for this…" then she bumped him with her shoulder, "and this," and then she did what no woman had ever done and leaned her head against his shoulder, "and this." she snuggled in and shut her eyes. "I know you hate it…all of it…and I wouldn't be doing this unless I really needed to."

He doesn't know what to say, but he knows she's expecting something and he doesn't want to make her wait, doesn't want to make her add anything or elaborate in any way. This whole talk is bad enough he thinks, so he just shrugs, "s'allright." he mumbles.

"I just cant be alone." she says quietly. and she stays pressed up against him.

She had stayed pretty close to him every moment of their time together, every moment till he had pushed her out of those doors alone and she had been snatched.