A/N: So, apparently I'm now evil after that last chapter. I do apologize, I don't know what came over me! I'm not sure how happy everyone is going to be with me after this one either, BUT! There are now two more stories to follow this one: Chaos and Fusion. My basic premise is to eventually have Beth and Daryl become the Bonnie and Clyde of Decatur County. Minus the getting gunned down by the FBI.
I hope you enjoy this last installment of Gravity and I hope to be back next week with the next story. You all are wonderful and thank you so, so, so much for all of your encouragement!
"Hold up," Daryl says.
The sound that comes out of Beth's mouth is very much like a whimper.
"What?" she asks breathlessly.
"We…" He swallows hard, one hand still cupping her face and the other pressing on her collarbone. "This ain't…Beth, this ain't…What are we doing?"
"Well, I was two seconds away from kissing you," she says rather matter-of-factly considering she feels like she's on fire. "But I'm having second thoughts now."
His eyes stare into hers. "Good."
"Why?" she asks through gritted teeth, her hand coming up to grip his wrist. "Give me a reason."
"I can give you a bunch."
"I only want one."
"Your father-"
"No," she says harshly, leaning towards him, her eyes narrowing. "Try again."
His eyes drop from her face. "Beth, I ain't what you want."
"Yes, you are," she says firmly.
He shakes his head. "I ain't."
Beth has no idea where her courage is coming from, but she surprises them both by sliding off the stool and straddling his lap. He falls back on his heels with a grunt and just stares at her with wide eyes, the hand on her collarbone falling to grip her hip.
"What are you doing?" he asks.
"Attempting to talk sense to you by making sure you don't run away," she says, although her new position is causing parts of her body to start singing loudly and she has to push her lust to the side.
"Girl…" he says warningly, his hand tightening on her hip.
"There is something here," she says, her hands gripping his shoulders. "Now, I don't know if it's just because we're all we've got at the moment or if it's love," Daryl's body jerks underneath her, "or if it's, I don't know, the beginnings of some kind of friendship or something. But there is something." She pokes his chest. "Here." She slumps a little, her face falling and her courage flagging. "Right?"
He stares at her and looks so helpless, she almost crawls away, but then he breathes, "Right. But baby, I can't be what you want."
"You are," she says softly. "I mean, I won't call it something flowery or get all sentimental, but you're something important to me and I think I'm something important to you."
He leans forward and presses his forehead to hers. "You are. I don't know what it is, but you are. But…"
"No," she says, cupping the back of his head. "No 'buts'. It's just us and that's good. For now."
"Good," he says on a deep breath. "'Us' is good. I can do 'us'. For now."
Beth winds her arms around his neck and presses in close and just hugs him. His arms wrap around her waist and one and tangles in her freshly cut hair. They're so close and Beth can't tell if it's her heart that's beating so fast or his.
She sighs, adjusts and tightens her grip, running her fingers through the hair on the nape of his neck. His arms tighten around her and she thinks she's never felt so safe and cared for in her life. She doesn't want it to end, but night has fallen and someone needs to be on watch.
He must feel the same, because his arms loosen and she pulls back a little.
"You sleep," he says, not quite looking her in the eyes. "I'll take first watch."
Like she can sleep, her body's a big old mess of randomly firing synapses and her mind is spinning, so she asks, "You sure?"
"Yeah," he says, hands still settled on her hips. "You caught dinner. You get first sleep."
"Fair enough," she says and she slides off his lap. A noise rumbles up from his chest and her own breath stutters when certain body parts come into contact with other body parts. They freeze and stare at each other.
"Christ," he says, shaking his head, his cheeks bright red. "Go to sleep, Greene."
"Yes, sir, Mr. Dixon," she says, trying for a flirty tone. It must work, because he shoots her a glare.
"Girl," he warns.
"Hey, I'm not the one who called half-time," she says, pulling her shirt and jacket on, then curling up in one of the comforters. "So, you just sit there on watch and think about all the making out we could be doing right now."
"Don't," he says pointing a finger at her.
She just smiles and snuggles into the comforter. Daryl sits on the stool and arranges it so that his back leans against the trunk of the tree. He drops his hand to rest on her head, by her ear.
The feel of his fingers running through her hair lulls her into a dreamless sleep.
She wakes easy when he shakes her shoulder for her watch. She takes his place on the stool, copying his position from earlier and lets her hand rest on his head, softly combing through his hair.
"'S nice," he murmurs.
"Yeah," she says. "Sleep."
He hums and a few seconds later, his breathing deepens and she knows he's fast asleep.
Beth stares out over the large houses and darkened lawns. The moon isn't quite all the way full, but there's enough light to see by. She counts all the cars in the streets and sees the walker she spotted earlier has wandered into another garden and is trampling through a hydrangea bush.
She sighs and while she's fairly sure they did the right thing by not rushing things and that if she digs deep, she knows she's not actually in the best frame of mind to be considering anything romantic or serious but…she really wants to know what kissing Daryl Dixon is going to feel like.
'Cause it's going to happen now; she knows this. But she's patient, she can wait until the right time.
Still…the feel of his body underneath hers flashes in her mind and she desperately tries to distract herself by thinking up Mary Chapin Carpenter's song lyrics.
The sun hasn't quite risen when she gets Daryl up. They both stretch and eat a full can of peaches, the juice staining their lips. Then they carefully climb out of the treehouse. She gives it a fond glance good-bye and then follows Daryl towards the road that will lead them out of the sub-division and towards the train tracks.
He stops in front of a house that looks a little more rundown than the others and circles around the side of it towards the backyard. After looking around, he goes to the shed, Beth fast on his heels.
"What are you doing?" she asks as he jimmy's the lock on the shed.
"Looking for a weapon for you," he says.
The lock gives and he slowly opens the door. It's filled with old Christmas decorations and boxes of junk.
Daryl shifts the boxes around and then mutters, "Booyah."
"What'd you find?" she asks watching him pull something out of plastic bin. Her eyes widen when he holds up what he found. "No way!"
It's a small crossbow, much smaller and lighter than his own as it looks to be made from some kind of plastic instead of steel. He hands it to her and it feels too light to do much damage, but maybe…
She holds it up and takes aim. "Will it work?"
He shrugs. "Only one way to find out. You'll have to make your own arrows. Give 'em sharp points, but it could do the job. Won't be able to fire it from as good a distance as mine, but better than a knife up close."
"Can we try it out?" she asks. "I saw a walker over by some hydrangeas?"
"Bloodthirsty girl," he chuckles. "Yeah, let's try it."
He roots around and manages to find the arrows that go with it. "Huh," he says. "Definitely got to sharpen the tips. Come on."
She keeps an eye out while he quickly sets his knife to the arrows. Then he hands them over and she arms the crossbow. It's much easier to pull the bow back and because it's so easy, she's dubious as to whether or not this will actually work.
"It feels kind of flimsy," she says hefting it in her arms.
"Well, don't go braining anyone with it," he says as they head towards the house with the walker in the yard. "It might fall apart on you."
The walker is still caught in the hydrangea bush and they sneak up on it quietly. Beth takes aim at its head and squeezes the trigger.
The arrow flies sharply through the air but hits the walker's neck instead of the head. The walker jerks, the turns around, and spots them. Cursing, Beth quickly reloads and takes aim again as the walker starts to shamble towards them. This time, she aims the bow higher and the arrow goes straight into an eye.
The walker drops, its body draping over the bushes.
Beth lets out a deep breath and lowers the crossbow. "The aim's off a little. I have to aim higher than I should."
"Yeah," Daryl says. "It's got more power than I thought it would, though. You're just going to have to make sure your aim is true."
Something in his voice makes her stop examining the bow and look up at him. They haven't mentioned their conversation from the night before, but there's a look in his eyes and his hand rises as if he's going to touch her shoulder. But he pulls his hand back and pretends to scratch the back of his head.
"Just aim true," he mutters looking at the walker.
Beth nods and presses her hand on his arm. "I will." Then she goes to pull her arrows out of the walker's body. She inspects them and says, "They're sturdier than I thought."
"Good," he says walking up the steps of the house they're next to. "Just want to see if there's anything good in here."
Beth looks up at the large white house with the porch. She squints and notices that one of the windows is open on the second floor. She hurries up after Daryl who's standing in the hallway and looking around.
"What?" she asks quietly when she sees his narrowed eyes and the tense set of his shoulders.
"Big group was here," he says pointing at the large boot prints on the carpet. "Not too long ago."
"What? You mean like hours?" Beth asks, rubbing her suddenly chilled arms and looking around.
"Nah, like a day or so," he says shaking his head. "We should move on."
Beth nods. "Let's just do a quick check, just in case there's something good."
"Don't think there will be, but knock yourself out," he says. "I'll check upstairs."
Beth goes towards the kitchen and looks through the cupboards. She finds a can of pineapple rings in juice in the far back of one and puts it in her backpack. She goes back to the hallway and glances into the bathroom. She freezes and her heart starts to pound.
On the floor is a shirt that she recognizes. The last time she saw that shirt, it and the wearer of it were on their knees next to her daddy.
Beth steps into the bathroom and picks up the shirt. It's stained and slightly damp and she just knows.
Her fingers tighten on the shirt and she whirls around to find Daryl, but he's already heading down the stairs.
"There's a walker up there and looks like there was a big old fight in the bathroom…what? What is it?" he asks when he sees her face.
She holds up the shirt. "This is Michonne's shirt."
He looks at it and cocks his head to the side. "You sure?"
"I'm sure," she says nodding. "This is hers. Daryl. Michonne's alive!"
He glances up the stairs. "Or she was a day ago."
"Daryl," she says walking over to him. "She's alive. If anyone could make it, she could."
"Hell yeah, she could. But," he says lifting up a corner of the shirt. "We don't know."
"Then we find out." She heads towards the door. "You can track her, right? You know her tread, right?"
He sighs. "Yeah, I know it. But don't get your hopes up. There's been a lot of traffic in this house and any of her tracks could be covered up by now." He meets her eyes. "Or worse."
Beth goes cold and she remembers the walkers beating their hands on the funeral home door and the sound of that engine idling nearby. "In that case, we'd better find her."
Daryl holds her gaze for moment longer, then nods. "All right then."
They head out the door, Beth stuffing Michonne's shirt into her pack. She lets Daryl take point and holds tight to her crossbow.
His eyes are fixed on the ground and he grimaces. "Lots of boots around here."
He walks on a bit further, frowns, then walks up a grassy bank and stops. "Son of a bitch," he mutters.
"What?" Beth goes up the bank to stop by him.
He points at the ground and puts his boot alongside a shoe print. A smaller shoe print than his by a couple of inches. Beth looks at him and he's grinning.
"Looks like Michonne and the family Grimes are travelling together," he says.
"No!" Beth breathes. "Both of them? Rick and Carl? What about Judith?"
Daryl's grin drops off his face. "Don't know about li'l asskicker. But I know those are the Grimes boys, sure enough."
Beth grabs his arm. "We gotta go after them."
"Yeah," he says rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand and walking ahead, eyes still fixed on the ground. "We wouldn't be the only ones."
"What do you mean?" she asks, following him and looking at the ground. She sees several boot prints and they soon start to cover up Carl's smaller print. "That group. It's following them, too?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
Daryl doesn't answer, just darts a look at her. "Oh," she says, that cold feeling washes over her again. "Daryl, we've got to find them."
"If they're still alive," he says stopping when they reach the road that leads out of the neighborhood.
"There's a chance they are," she says thinking hard as she looks down the road. She faces Daryl. "And I think that's a chance we've got to follow up on."
His brows furrows and he hmm's as he looks down the road. He turns and says, "Keep tracking."
Beth follows him, keeping her eyes open as they walk away from the houses. They come across the train tracks much sooner than she expects and they stop in front of a sign that reads 'TERMINUS – Those who arrive, survive' with a map just below the text.
"They'd follow it," Beth breathes as she steps up and traces a route with her finger. "You know they would."
"Yeah, they would," Daryl says scowling. "Damn fools."
"You don't think it's real?" she asks glancing at him.
"It's probably a real trap, is what it is," he says glaring at the sign. "But they'd carry on towards it."
"Then so should we," Beth says firmly. "Did they come this way?"
He nods. "So did the other group."
"Then we've definitely got to go after them," she says. She steps close to him and catches his eyes. "Right?"
He takes a deep breath and stares at her for a minute. Then he cups her cheek and holds her head steady as he looks into her eyes. Beth's breath catches in her throat at his strong grip and the look he's giving her.
"If I said that going after them was a damn fool idea and that it was only going to lead to bad things going down and that I wasn't going to do it and if you had any sense at all, you'd follow me and we'd go off together and find a place to hunker down and be safe," he asks rapidly, his voice never wavering, "would you come with me?"
Beth stares back at him and then smiles. She steps in and cups the back of his head with her hand and pulls his face down to hers.
"You know that I would," she says softly. "Just as I know that you'd never ask me to."
His breath leaves him and he presses his lips to her forehead and murmurs against her skin, "Serves me right for falling in with the craziest girl this side of the Mississippi."
Beth laughs and hugs him quickly and tightly then pulls back and looks up at him expectantly.
He throws his hand in the air and says, "All right, fine. Let's go find our goddamn fool of a friend, Rick Grimes and his clan."
The End.
