The snow began to fall as the sun began it's descent. The streets were desolate. Each house bore windows where deep orange light emanated through the glass. Families were getting dinner ready, preparing to end the day. A few men were heading home from the wall or from work in the town. Some looked weary, their day spent on the wall leaving them fatigued from too long in the snow. Most looked too tired to notice Daryl and the small blonde by his side, walking in silence. Beth hadn't told Maggie where she was going. In the thrill of seeing Daryl, her mind had erased any responsibilities she had to anyone else. She felt guilty, knowing he sister would worry, but she couldn't go back. Not now. Not when he was here, leading her to a place where he felt she'd feel better. They didn't talk but she didn't mind. Her eyes fixed on the wall and her curiosity kept her entertained. It wasn't the type of wall you expected to see. Not made of brick or wood. It was a collage of metals. A mix and match of scrap pieces and metal sheets. There was barbed wire beyond it that was electrified, or so Noah told her! and the wall was wide enough for men to take watch along it.

The guards near the gate have Daryl wary looks. As did some of the women who were there with tins of food for those on watch. Beth frowned as she saw how unfriendly their expressions were. The way one of the guards smirked and shook his head. The way a woman looked him up and down and moved away. Her first impulse was to glare back and ask what their problem was, but she glanced at Daryl and saw he was looking ahead. Looking at the gate. They were so close, why delay their escape. Instead, she walked a little closer to him and bit her lip. Her arms brushed against his and Daryl fought the instinct to put an arm round her.

"Hunting again Dixon?" The guard at the gate glanced at Beth with a frown. Daryl nodded. The guard didn't seem up to arguing and unlocked the metal gate that opened with a high pitched cry, rusted metal grinding against itself. The moment they had cleared the wall, Beth sighed and looked ahead. There was the road. The road she had walked with Carly, the alley where she had almost died, the mist obscuring the sight of what lay ahead. Daryl turned, surveying the area, taking her down a side road. As they walked, she felt the scar on her cheek ache, wiping at it with her fingers.

"What's with all that on your face."

She didn't see him notice what she was doing but his statement surprised her. Only then did she realise how different she must look to him. Embarrassed, she replied, "Maggie. I used to love make up before... Seems pointless now. She did it for me."

"Don't look bad... But you don't need it," he glanced over at her, noticing the smile on her lips. He might not like how much powder her sister had loaded on her face, but hell he'd noticed how she looked older. Not old enough to justify his wayward thoughts. He meant what he says. Beth didn't need all that stuff, but hearing it from him meant a lot to her. Scooping up a handful of snow, she pressed some against her face, using her scarf to wipe the snow away.

"Maggie tried to hide the scars but I wouldn't let her. I don't wanna hide who I am... What I've been through," her tone was uneasy but Daryl nodded, checking the road ahead, the park enterance a few metres away. A walker was lying in the snow, gasping, crawling toward them. As he trained his arrow at his skull, he felt his back burn, the scars tingling with the words she spoke, "Everyone's got scars... Just not everyone brave enough to show em."

"Do you? Have scars?" Concern. Her voice was edged with concern and curiosity. Daryl didn't want to show her. He wasn't ready for anyone to know about them and how he'd been carrying them his whole life. As they entered the park gates, he looked at her and nodded, leaving it there.

...

Hunting rabbits was strangely exciting. At least for Beth it was. Daryl had set traps and caught a few already but when they got to the woodland part of the park, he'd handed her the crossbow and told her to try and track some critters down. After a few minutes, she saw prints in the snow, impressed by herself as she found them in the dying light. Wandering ahead, leaving Daryl to empty another trap, she found a small hole up ahead, two small ears popping up from inside.

"Keep talking Greene."

Looking back, she noticed Daryl watching her, frowning.

"Why?"

"Cus' I don't wanna forget how your voice sounds."

He surprised himself by how brave he'd been to admit it. Beth bit her lip dropped the crossbow, grinning at him.

"Maybe I should just sing then."

He chuckled, walking over, stopping behind her, studying the rabbit hole ahead, "reckon your singin' might scare them."

He stood behind her, her back against his chest as she raised the crossbow, silently thankful he was so close. It helped to keep her standing strong. Made the muscle aches and bruises seem a little less real. Daryl was all too aware of how close he was but he was here to help her. Keep her 'd done the same for him. After he lashed out and screamed at her. When he finally let the pain out and remembered what they'd lost. How he hadn't done anything to stop it. She had come crashing against him, keeping his standing, her arms around his body as he hung his head and cried. Cried for everything he lost. For everything she'd lost. For the life he'd started to feel he belonged in. Feeling her now, it was almost painful not to let his hands rest on her waist. She was thin and still weak from whatever she'd been through but Beth Greene didn't need him to keep her standing. She was too strong fir that. When he saw her on the porch, he could read what she was feeling. Misplaced. Same damn thing he felt every time he woke up and looked out the window. Sure she'd found Maggie, found some family to return home to, but Beth was used to surviving and being her own saviour. No one knew how much she'd changed. Glenn still talked called her "poor kid," a Rick had said she'd could finally live a life acting her age. They didn't see her change. Only Daryl knew. He'd been there, seen her fight off walkers, hunt out her first drink, fought against those bastards at Grady. Noah always said she was tough, that she didn't let anyone push her around. She couldn't act like the dumb kids her age. Beth had seen too much to ever be that innocent kid he'd seen the first day they arrived at the farm. Merle used to say the same about Daryl, when they hid from their dad after he came home drunk, belt in hand. He'd say that their dad had beaten the children outta them. Daryl felt the scars on his back ache with the memory of his dad's belt. Beth had her own scars. Her own painful memories that polluted the innocence in her. Once again, he could see how alike they were, and he hated that she could know how it felt to be broken that way.

When a white rabbit appeared from the snow, she raised the cross bow and her elbow brushed his arm, his finger pointing out what way to aim. Beth tried to steady her hands but she felt her body tremble. From weakness or from Daryl she wasn't sure but her shot missed by an inch and the rabbit ran off, her voice strained as she cursed, "Damn."

She moved to collect the arrow but Daryl placed a cautious hand on her shoulder, shaking his head, words warm as he spoke into her ear, "Gonna scare 'em if I get the arrow, there's still a few nearby."

Without hesitation she slid a hand beneath her jacket, retrieving the arrow from Johnson City, feeling him tense as he took it, studying it with a frown, "Where'd you get this?"

"Johnson. Only thing that kept me sane most nights," she murmured, so focused on training her arrow at the newly emerged rabbits that her eyes didn't stray to notice his momentary shock. He widened his eyes, remembering the shot he took when they had set the fireworks off. What made him fall silent was what she said it had meant to her. Kept her sane. What did that mean? Knowing she was distracted, he questioned her, "how'd the arrow help ya?"

Beth trained the cross bow at the largest creature, steadying her breaths, trying to construct a sentence as she readied to fire, "it reminded me of... Better days... Of us..."

Us. She mentally scolded herself for using that word. Daryl didn't say anything, knowing too well they could be treading into dangerous territory if he kept pushing her to answer his questions. He urged her to take a shot. The arrow shot out and caught the rabbit through the eye, the soft thud of the arrow head slicing through the creatures skull making her wrinkle her nose but she felt victorious and Daryl chuckled. Hurrying over to her kill, Beth held it up, trying to pull the arrow out, deep red blood dripping onto the pale snow by her feet. The sight reminded her of the bridge. All the blood that had spilled out from that mans throat. From the woman who she had cut open with her knife... She shook her head and glanced at Daryl. He'd noticed and he held out a hand, taking the rabbit, pulling the arrow out smoothly.

"Not bad for my second lesson."

He shrugged, tossing the rabbit at her, holding in a laugh as it slipped through her fingers, "not bad Greene, another fifty to go."

...

They spent another hour out hunting whatever moved. A few squirrels. Another rabbit. Daryl shot most of them. Beth was starting to feel the weight of the crossbow in her muscles and Daryl knowingly offered to take over. When they'd caught a dozen furry creatures, Daryl stopped by a log, sitting down, pulling out his knife. Beth copied, biting her lip as she tried to find a place to start skinning from, feeling sorry for the limp form that hung from her hands. Watching him slide his knife along the pine of his squirrel, Beth tried and failed to avoid piercing thought the skin and the meat beneath, letting herself sit and observe Daryl. He didn't seem to even hesitate when the time came to behead the animal in his hands. It was second nature for him. Same way he'd killed that snake when they were out there together. She'd found it sickening back hen but not long ago she'd down the same with rodents at the school. Save for the few mouthfuls of hair still clinging to the flesh, Beth had roasted mice and kept herself and Morgan alive. Glancing up at the changing sky, watching the wisps of cloud fade and the violet sky shift into a darker hue, she sighed, feeling almost too free. Too open. Too defenceless. Everything here was as it was. Wild and untamed, behind the trees lay buildings that bore signs of what had truly happened to the world. The snow was tainted with blood from their kills. A pile of frozen walker bodies lay across the frozen pond. Yet she could see birds flying home, feel the wind dance to its song of freedom, and here, beside her, was the man who had once been nothing more than a shdow lurking in those parts of her mind that she always kept guarded. Barriers were breaking down and Beth couldn't help but look over at her companion and be honest.

"Remember when I said I wanted to change."

Daryl wrapped the skinned animal in paper from his bag, putting it away carefully, taking a squirrel in his hands, "Yeah."

Beth glanced away from him into the sky, "I take it back."

"S'not easy surviving out there but y'did.

"What I saw, Daryl... I can't unseen it... I saw children..." The words were so hard to speak yet they needed to be said. She needed to tell someone. It was hard enough harbouring nightmares of walker children and her sister burying her alive, but to never tell another soul of everything she'd seen scared her. Daryl shifted, not from discomfort, but from how pained her tone was. He couldn't meet her eyes. He couldn't face seeing the pain in those perfect blue eyes, "S'ok, you ain't gotta tell me."

"Who else can I tell? No one else listens and hears me... That's why I wish I hadn't changed... Because I'm not some kid who needs protectin' anymore. I got so much to say and no one wants to hear it..." Her voice wavered. She didn't mean to sound so enraged but he'd brought her somewhere that seemed to entail honesty. It had only been a day but the way people looked at her, with pity and sympathy, the way her sister still saw her as a child... Beth had seen too much to be that girl everyone expected her to be. Whining to Daryl felt shameful and she looked at her hands, surprised when she felt him nudge her with his elbow, his eyes on her though she didn't meet them. His voice was gruff yet warm, "I'm here. Go on."

Slowly, she began to tell him everything. About the children in the store and the crazy woman. About the school and the hall of bodies. She started to talk about Grady and what Gorman had tried to do, but Daryl went stiff and she could see the flicker of anger in his features. The memory of Gorman made Beth sick, but she knew it would seem worse to Daryl. He'd blame himself. Instead, she spoke about the school and the bodies. What she had to do to each one. How the names echoes through her mind. When she started talking about the whisperer on the bridge and how she had to kill them, he placed a hand on her wrist, his way of telling her she didn't need to go on. He could hear the pain in her voice and she was thankful for his awareness. Beth didn't need to explain why she did what she did. Why she killed, why she left the man for dead. Surviving wasn't easy, and men were monsters when there was no law to control their hunger. Enveloped in silence, the burning regret in her mind began to become unbearable. She couldn't say what she needed to say without bringing up whatever it was that she felt for him, but her mouth formed the words before she could rethink them.

"Back at the hospital... I'm sorry. I'm sorry I did something so stupid... I just, I had to hurt her for what she did to me, to Noah..."

Daryl stood up, wiping his bloodied hands in the snow, glancing over at her. His hair fell over his eyes and she found herself fighting the small smile playing across her lips. He didn't even realise how handsome he could be. Beth doubted he ever considered how he looked. Same way she never did, but he didn't know how good he it was just the way she saw him, but with the slightest smirk or shrug, even the way he played with his hands when he was shy or nervous, Beth couldn't help but find herself dwelling on these little things. Glancing at her, he shook his head, giving her a stern look, "Your back... Don't matter. Dawn's dead, she ain't gonna come back anytime soon. Before don't count."

Beth didn't believe him. What she'd done was stupid and she shivered with every second spent remembering the moment, but she needed him to understand her, "I mean I'm sorry... For what I did to you."

His eyes couldn't meet hers and she knew why. She had wandered into that unknown territory. Admitted that she was worried about him, that she'd hurt him. Daryl hoped she'd never know just how much her death had crippled him. There was a moment of silence, his expression clouded, his voice low and soft when he spoke, "Were good."

Beth knew there was no point on trying to make him talk about what he'd felt. It was enough that Noah had told her that it Daryl who carried her out, who cried as he took her out of the hospital. He wasn't the type to let himself be vulnerable but she knew him well enough to know when he was hurting. Even now, with her back by his side, out in the wilderness that he loved so much, she knew he wasn't okay. Not deep down. There were a thousand reasons why a guy like Daryl could be unhappy, but something in her just knew it involved her. A distant bell rang. The shift change. Beth cursed. Maggie would be heading to the town hall with Glenn for dinner. She hoped her sister wasn't worried sick. Somehow, she didn't feel inclined to go back and join the rest of the community. Instead, she looked across at Daryl. He was looking over at the fence with an expression that mirrored her thoughts. An expression that she could read in a heartbeat. Reluctance. He didn't want to go home, and he sure as hell didn't want to leave her. Not yet.

"There's a part of me that wishes we weren't here... Like maybe it's easier when you don't have to worry about what people think."

He snorted at her words, packing the rest of the dead animals into his bag, "Never cared what people thought."

"I know but I do... Sometimes."

She didn't want to admit how upset she was by how he was looked at with contempt and mistrust, but there was no way of saying it without letting the secret slip. They were so free out here she felt she could say anything, but her words could have the wrong effect and she wasn't ever going to let what they had ruined by her stupid weakness for him. He didn't look up, wondering how she could ever feel out of place amongst the groups of teenagers he'd seen around. Plenty of them were her age, and he decided to voice his opinion, "Thought you'd like it here. A lot of them are your age."

"Sure are. Girls here like talkin' about how to do their hair or what guys are cute. I heard enough of them talking in town today. The boys get bored and are desperate to screw about with anyone new. Noah warned me that I was gonna be a popular conquest."

She saw him tense a little at her last sentence and rolled her eyes. Why did he do things like that. Actions that made it seem he was as possessive of her as she was of him. Maybe she was just being like most girls her age, imagining people gave a shit about stuff like that, but Daryl wasn't comfortable when she mentioned boys. Might be he was just over protective. Frustrated she shrugged, continuing, "not my kinda crowd. Rather be here... Gutting rabbits in the cold."

Beth left out the last part of her sentence. The part where she said she'd rather be here with him. He smirked, one of those rare expressions where he let himself show just how amused he was, his eyes fixed on the rabbit in her hands, "you ain't even skinned it properly, Greene. Where's your head."

There was something dangerously close to mischief in his tone and she bit her lip, all too aware of how she wanted to give him a truthful answer of exactly where her head was, but instead she tossed the rabbit to him, cleaning her knife in the snow. Her hands were warm with blood and as she slid her knife back into her belt, she noticed how red the blood was against the snow beneath her. Visions of a man clutching his neck, blood spraying into fresh snow, flashed past her eyes and she had to swallow a whimper. As strong as she thought she was, that kill would never leave her. The fear, the anger, the brutality... His dying screams as walkers tore him apart slowly... How she felt his hands around her still... His words...

"Beth?"

Shaking her head a little, she glanced at Daryl, his hand on her shoulder, studying her face with an unreadable expression. The moment she had frozen, staring at the ground with cold blue eyes, he knew she was seeing something he couldn't see. A memory, a ghost of something dark and painful. He knew too well how that felt. It was still hard hearing a gun shot without him seeing her fall to the ground in that hospital hallway. Moment he said her name, her eyes met his and she blinked, back in the present, a weak smile on her lips as she tried to reassure him that she was okay.

"Sorry... I'm a little brain damaged," she joked, standing up, shoulder warm from where his hand had held her. Daryl packed the rabbits away in his bag, breathing in the cold air, the sun setting telling him they should head back but he knew she wasn't alright. If he took her back, she'd be forced into being the Beth Greene who always smiled and listened to her sister and helped out no matter how bad she felt. Carefully, he came to her side, gently pushing her in the direction of the dense trees. Beth followed, scooping up some snow, ignoring the numbing pain it sent through her veins as she used it to clean the blood from her hands, glad to see Daryl wasn't watching her. They weren't heading toward the safe zone, but she didn't care. Wherever Daryl was leading her was where she wanted to be.

...

When they reached the shack, the sky was already a dark shade of purple, dotted with stars that shone brighter than she'd ever known. Beth stared up, the moon appearing as a ghostly outline, awaiting the suns decline into the horizon. For a moment, she lost herself, absorbed by the sky and the ice, eyes half closed as she felt the empty wilderness around her. The cold and the frost seemed to greet her gently, the wind dancing through her hair. Beth didn't even notice Daryl. He was grateful for that. The way she stood here, bathed in the dying light of the sun, gold hair tousled by the wind, a soft smile on her lips... He didn't know what he felt seeing her that way, but the moment she turned back to him, he set his eyes down to his feet, afraid she might see something in him he didn't mean to let show. Beth wasn't aware of the swift aversion of his eyes. Instead, she was staring at the wooden shack behind him. It was small, the size of Maggie's living room maybe, made from old wood that was grey, the roof slanted, a small metal pipe protruding up from amongst the roof tiles. A chimney of sorts, she guessed. The windows were misty, the door crooked, but she knew, at that moment, that this was a place she would love more than any house back at the safe zone. Daryl was shifting the handle, playing around with the lock for a little, before opening the door, glancing back at her.

"C'mon."

He didn't need to tell her twice. Inside was dark, the dying light of day giving her a glimpse at what lay inside. It seemed as though there were two chairs, arm chairs maybe, and a table, and things hanging on the wall. Closing the door behind her, her eyes followed Daryl's shadowy form as he went over to the back wall, striking a match, lighting something that soon began to burn brighter until she could see everything clearly. She'd been right, there were two arms chairs by the fire, mismatched, one acting as a kind of bookshelf, the seat accommodating a pile of dusty old books. The table was low and long, on it were the remnants of Daryl's last meal. On the walls hung some weapons. A few dead animals. Daryl was hanging up the rabbits when he glanced once at her, relieved to see she was surveying the place with a smile. He hadn't exactly done much to make it look good but with Beth, he didn't feel he needed to hide the way he liked things. Hell, they'd stayed in a red neck shack drinking moonshine, this place was a five star hotel in comparison.

"This is perfect... What was it before?"

He shrugged, throwing some more wood on the fire, "Place was a park, pretty big one. Guessin' caretaker had this place. Had to clear out a lot of shovels and stuff."

Walking over to the second chair, she studied soem of the books, recognising a few names.

"These are classics. Alice in wonderland. Tom Sawyer and huckleberry Finn."

He scoffed, lifting them out of the chair for her, putting them on the table, "figured you'd kick up a fuss if I burnt them."

That's when she realised he'd kept them for her. He'd been going here before she came back but he kept them. He kept them because somehow he knew she would have wanted them. He was right, she did. A long time ago, reading had been a hobby of hers. Something she'd do sitting in the barn, or at school when she didn't feel like joining in with her friends at lunch. Sometimes, she used to read at the prison, but the only book around was her dad's bible and somehow it didn't feel right. Religion just didn't seem to fit in with the life they led. Daryl was fixing his cross bow, studying the metal end, so she let herself sit and watch him for a while. All that time spent trying to remember him and here he was, the way he always was, strong and guarded, yet able to tease her like he had before. If she never found a way to explain to him what she felt, Beth figured she'd still be okay, as long as they could keep on being this way. The words just fell from her lips before she could even consider what they meant, her voice almost a whisper, "Ever wish we never left that house."

"All the time," Daryl suprises himself. He answered her without hesitation. Didn't even let himself think about it. The question was one he'd had in his mind for a long while and hearing her say it made him feel better. Made it seem like he wasn't alone. His eyes may have lingered on that cross bow but he was all too aware of her eyes on him.

Beth shifted, tearing her gaze away from him, feeling warmer as she realised she wasn't alone in feeling how she did. About the house. About that time spent with him. She smiled to herself, "When I woke up there... I'd forgotten a lot of stuff but not... Not what it felt like, when we stayed there. It felt like... I dunno.. "

Without hesitating, he finished her sentence, "Felt like home."

"Yeah... Yeah, exactly."

"Y'got a home now," he said pointedly, making her look back to him with a laugh.

"No, I share a home now. It's Maggie and Glenn's house... And my nieces home, of course."

He frowned, seeing something in those blue eyes that seemed familiar, "You wanna be on your own?"

"No... I mean, not completely. I dunno, after everything... sometimes I miss those moments where it was me out there... Calling the shots. Making my own decisions. Free. Know what I mean?"

"Y'know I do."

Beth smiled. They shared that understanding and it felt good to know he wasn't seeing her like everyone else did. He knew who she was now. He knew they were alike and in that moment, he saw himself. Then, her eyes suddenly widened mouth twisting into a. Wide smile, "I almost forgot."

Reaching into her pocket, she retrieved something curved, off white in colour. Taking hold of his hand, she pressed it into his palm. The shiver that ran through his spine at her touch unnerved him but he distracted himself by studying the strange object, "Looks like a damn wolf tooth."

"It is," she sighed, sitting back a little, watching him frown with a smile on her lips.

"Where the hell did you get this?"

With a small laugh, she told him, "on our way to Washington. There was this huge wolf in the road, had to move it out the way and I saw this. Something about a lone wolf reminded me of you."

There was an awkward silence, broken by him letting letting out a low laugh, "my brother used to wear one of these round his neck. Swore he wrestled a wolf to get it."

She laughed, all too aware of the sadness in Daryl's voice. He looked up at her, his face seeming so young and unsure, "You wanna go back?"

"Do I have to go back?"

He sighed and shrugged. Beth was smart and he knew exactly what she meant. Deep down she needed this place as much as he did, but unlike him, she didn't have a choice but to go back.

"There was somethin' i couldn't find for his place y'know."

Frowning, she looked at him, hair falling over her eyes, her lips curved in a smile that never seemed to fade when he was around her. With a glance down at his hands, he looked up and smirked, "damn jukebox."

Beth paused, unable to comprehend what he'd said. He was looking right at her, smiling, eyes fixed on hers. In her mind, she was back at that table, looking into his gaze, seeing something she didn't understand... Till now. She bit her lip and saw him grin. Daryl knew he'd got her and she was all too happy to let him have this one.

"That your way of sayin' you want me to sing, Daryl Dixon."

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair, studying the tooth. With a small secret smile, she let herself soft through every song she could remember suddenly sure she knew what one would be perfect. Fear for what the lyrics might mean to him was over clouded by how much she wanted to sing it, and her eyes lingered on the fire as she began. Somehow, she couldn't recall the early verses of the song, but her mind was sure of what she wanted to sing and the words she needed were in the middle of the song. At it's heart. In her heart.

"Don't go out

Much at all

I've never been

The type to call

I realize to be happy

Maybe I need

A little company"

She could almost feel him tense up, but she noticed his shoulders drop and his head turn, her eyes focused on the fire, it's warmth seeping into her words. Daryl was entranced by anything she sang, but this song felt personal and though he'd never let her think he noticed, Daryl knew she was saying something in the words. For once in his life, he wasn't nervous or uncomfortable. When Beth sang, it wasn't just words, it was her heart. She put do much of herself in the way she sang the words and he knew this wasn't a song she'd chosen by accident. The words were meant for him and he let himself take in their meaning.

So now you know

You know it all

That I've been

Desperately alone

I haven't found the one for me

But I believe in divinity."

He smiled to himself. Hell, he might as well be singing this song. Words were just as much what he would say as they were what she would. Desperately alone. If he were one of those dusty books she kept cradled on her lap, that would be the title. There was a slight tremble in her lips and he couldn't help but wonder how'd she'd react if he kissed her. Right there. Would she push him away and give him that look everyone else did? No, she wouldn't, but what came after would destroy them. He didn't know the first thing about relationships and he knew they couldn't keep being so close if he screwed it up by acting on a wild impulse. Besides, when had he ever just kissed a girl like that. Never. Not unless he was drunk. Beth deserved better, whether she realised it or not. Still, seeing her upset made him feel crazy. Like he would do anything to make her smile. She recovered quickly, giving him a small smile, eyes meeting his for a moment, noticing how focused he was on her. The words were harder to form, but she kept singing, chest tense as he kept watching her, even when he eyes fell on the fire and her smile faded.

"I found what I'd been looking for in myself

Found a life worth living for someone else

Never thought that I could be

Happy, happy..."

The radio on his belt began to crackle with interference, a voice calling in, asking where he was. Rick. Daryl twisted the top switch and turned it off, looking back at Beth, forcing himself to overcome how turbulent his emotions were after her song. He didn't meet her gaze but he spoke his mind and wasn't conflicted over how honest his words were.

"This place ain't just mine. You ever feel anythin' gettin' too much, you tell me. It's what this place is for."