Waking up was harder now. At least when he slept, he was always with her. Watching her. Seeing her with Judith, hearing her sing that song she'd been fighting to finish in the shack. In his dreams, he could be there, near her, observing her. He could feel what he wanted, smile at her without worrying who saw. Even in his dreams he couldn't find the courage to tell her what he felt, or at least hold her the way he always thought he could. Didn't matter that he was asleep, that it was a dream, because even in his dreams she was out of his reach. Too good, too perfect, too delicate for him to ever try and reach out for.

In reality, he was living in constant regret. His dreams tortured him. Showing him everything that he could never have, every lost hope. They hadn't spoken in a with and he was trying to be okay with he wanted was in that world he escaped to the moment he closed his eyes. He still went to the shack, but seeing the empty place where she'd once sat and sung... It wasn't easy being somewhere where he'd made memories with her.

Every moment spent in reality was torture and it took a toll on him. He kept to his long shifts on the wall, started working with Tyrese to get the wood stock built up higher. Taking any job that meant hed be doing something other than thinking about her. Tyrese was glad to have help. Every late night and early morning, Daryl would carry wood from the gate to the stockpile near town hall. Deep down he knew why he'd offered to help. Knew too well that he'd been eager to take that route to town so he could pass her house. Pass by and hope she was there, on the porch. Just a brief glance, a smile. Enough to keep him going. Just to see her safe, see her give him that look she always seemed to save for him. Those sky blue eyes would widen and those soft lips would break into a small smile. She always seemed so relieve to see him and he hoped it was because she worried about him the same way he worried about her. They weren't so different. Beth didn't fit into the life she'd been forced back into. Daryl wouldn't ever know what an ordinary life felt like. Beth didn't get on with the people here, didn't run around after the other kids her age the way Noah did. Daryl hadn't been a social kinda guy from the start and here, he rarely spoke to anyone except for anyone from their group.

Every day that passed without seeing her, without talking to her, left him cursing himself the moment he got home and shut that door. Left in the silence of an empty home. A few days had passed since the shack. He'd told her about the dog and let her take him back to Morgan. Regardless of how useless the creature may have been, Daryl wasn't used to coming home to silence. Beth had asked him if he was okay on his own, and as usual he'd just shrugged and nodded. Always dismissing anyone who gave a damn. Always so quick to avert any attention from himself. Maybe it was only right he was alone. Who could put up with someone who never let anyone in. Not even Beth.

Today was harder than most. On his way to help Tyrese, he stopped by the town hall, wondering if Carol was around. He'd been wanting to ask after her but she was the say to find these days. Always with Tyrese or helping train the women with guns. Then, he turned and collided with someone rushing by. Bumping into Glenn. There was paint on his sleeve and cheek. Daryl didn't need to ask him why he was late to breakfast. Instead of just letting Daryl go, Glenn took hold of his arm and nodded at the hall.

"Come on Dixon, you haven't tried their bacon."

Daryl shook his head and muttered an excuse but Glenn insisted. Truth was, he was starving, but sitting amongst the community wasn't exactly his idea of a good time. Still, he gritted his teeth and followed Glenn. Moment he entered the hall, he ignored the urge to run. Eight rows of tables were crammed with people. All talking and eating women and kids, men and boys. A few guys he recognised from the wall glanced up at him. He didn't look their way. He focused on what Glenn was doing.

"I'll get you a tray. Go on and sit."

Daryl wanted to argue but Glenn was already in the line leading to the kitchen. Trying to find his group, Daryl wondered down the hall, easing past strangers. He spotted Rick and Carl, passing the seventh table, glad to see the Grimes were furthest from the crowds. In his hurry, he didn't notice a small blonde sitting on the opposite table. Didn't see her look up and bite her lip. Beth tried her hardest to suppress the urge to call out to him. Especially since Judith was on her lap and Maggie close beside her. As much as she hated it here, sat between faces she didn't know, seeing Daryl made her glad she'd let Maggie drag her to the hall. He sat down beside Rick, smirking as Carl pushed a cup of coffee toward him, "can't stand that stuff."

Rick laughed, "my boy doesn't understand how I was so hooked on coffee."

Daryl shrugged, giving Carl a wink, "why'd 'you think he's been so crazy all this time."

Rick seemed suprised by Daryl's good mood, nodding in agreement, rubbing his beard, "yep, I reckon I'm so sane now that I might even shave."

As they continued to talk, Glenn came back, settling a plate of food in from of Daryl. Oatmeal and grits. He was about to sit when he glanced over at Maggie, "let me just check on the girls."

Daryl stiffened a little. Suddenly aware of someone observing him, nervously glancing over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of cascading blonde hair and a pale face. He didn't let himself see her, didn't face her and try to find some way of greeting her. Rick noticed. He didn't say a word, observing how tense Daryl looked. Luckily, Carl broke the silence.

"So I was thinking... Can I have driving lessons now?"

...

Maggie nudged her, taking a swig of cofee before she spoke.

"So I heard Christmas preparations are startin' soon, think you'd be up for playing a song or two Christmas Eve? They got a piano at the church."

Beth grinned, patting Maggie's stomach, "that what my nephew would like?"

Maggie laughed, swatting her hand away, feeding Judith an apple slice, "sure is. Who know, might find you a boy with that angel voice of yours... Once he's been interrogated by me of course."

Beth struggled to laugh. Her sister had been making a few too many boyfriend jokes lately. Maybe because Beth always seemed to be a loner. Noah came round every few days. He offered to take her to where the other teenagers hung out but Beth didn't feel any inclination to spend time with people who had nothing in common with her. Maggie didn't understand how Beth preferred to go see Morgan or sit with Tara as she trained the women with guns. Her sister wanted her to be who she had been before the world ended. That silly teenager who obsessed over fashion and boys and ponies. The girl who never shot a gun or bashed a corpses brains in. Maggie and Glenn were making a new life here and Beth was trying to find a place in it. Someone came beside her, giving her a soft poke in the ribs. Dazzling green eyes met hers. Carly.

"Your sister said you were keen to start workin' on somthing."

Beth nodded, distracted by Judith, her tiny hands grasping the fork that had been carelessly placed on the table. With a swift distraction and some soothing words, she managed to convince the child to play with the doll instead. The doll she had found out there. The doll she'd held onto, praying she would live to see Judith hold it and smile. Judith giggled as Beth gave her a gentle cuddle, glancing up at Carly, suddenly aware that she was watching with a small smile.

"Your good with kids I see... The nursery could use another helper. Play games with the little ones, read books, sing songs. You like that?"

Beth nodded again. Sure she would love to take on the role of caring for children, seeing them smile, making them laugh. The only reasons he didn't say as much was because in her mind, she saw the play pen. At the store. The walker children... What she had to do. How small the bodies were... Instinctively, she looked over to Daryl, seeking comfort in knowing he was there. To her surprise, his eyes met hers. He'd been watching her. Concern was etched on his face when he noticed how uneasy she seemed. It was painful not being able to talk to her, to put a hand on her shoulder and make sure she was alright. He knew when she was reliving the past and he sure as hell knew how difficult it was. It was his fault she'd been out there. His fault she was taken and almost raped and killed... Frustration forced him to his feet. Her eyes strayed to her sister and he chose that moment to walk away. Leaving the hall. Daryl flinched as he felt fingers brush against his, the sound of her voice saying his name. He didn't turn to her. Just kept walking, unaware of how sad she looked, how hard she but down on her lip. Beth wanted to be mad at him, but looking around, she knew it wasn't fair to judge his actions. Everyone around them seemed to look over and study the new comers. Daryl hated places like this. So crowded and strange. She watched him go, forcing a smile, brushing back Judith's fine blonde hair with her fingers.

"He looks as good goin' as he does comin'"

Beth's eyes widened as she glanced at Carly. It took her a moment to realise the girl was watching Daryl, a mischievous smile playing across her deep red lips. Speechless, Beth felt an unfamiliar feeling in her stomach. Anger mixed with a sort of sickness. She'd never known what it meant to be jealous. Carly glanced at her and let out a girlish laugh.

"He's that perfect balance, you know... There's a storm behind those eyes. Tough and dominating yet kinda nervous, kinda shy... He's as rough as they come but I bet he's amazing at..."

"You like Daryl?" Beth cut her off, eager to end Carly's aroused observations, frowning when the girl nodded and shrugged.

"I had my watch with him last night. Think he likes me. We talked a bit... Bout the only guy round here I'd even try it with."

Beth bit her lip, bouncing Judith, keeping herself from replying. Carly was so unaware of her discomfort, her focus shifting to Glenn as she began asking him about paint for the nursery. Beth watched her. She studied Carly's perfect brown curls that reached just below her shoulder blades. Noticed how her eyes shone a brighter shade of green in the light. Saw how curved and feminine a figure she had. Any man would give his front teeth for her to notice them.

"Who pissed you off?"

Without a word, Beth forced a smile and gave Judith back to rick, biting her lip as he watched her with concern. Weaving through the crowds of strangers, she ran out of the hall and sighed, taking in a deep breath of morning breeze, glancing toward where she knew Daryl was heading. The gate. Off to the shack without her most likely. Beth didn't want to follow him. He didn't want her there and for whatever reason, she wasn't about to confront him. She wasn't strong enough. Not yet.

The winter breeze carried with it the soft aroma of burning wood and the light scent of jasmine from her hair. Maggie had found some miraculous way to lift the scent of earth and blood from every strand of hair and Beth had been so relieved. Maybe they weren't meant to find each other. At least, not like this, not in this way. Out there, together, they'd discovered something was building between them and now... Now it was hard to look at him without feeling that burn in her chest. That longing to just say what needed to be said. Fear kept her from telling him, from speaking the words and letting her heart be free of its confinement. Maybe they weren't supposed to find each other, not in this life. Instead of following him, she turned around and walked toward the graveyard, toward the house with a smoking chimney and a one eyed dog sleeping on the porch.

Beth was going to see Morgan.

...

Snow barked with glee as he raced toward her, licking her face, her laugh fuelling his excited yelps. Glancing at the house, she smiled, wiping Snow's saliva from her neck with a grimace. The kitchen door was open, the smell of something sweet baking danced through the breeze. Beth sighed. How could she explain how at home she felt when she came here. Something about the way Morgan lived. The way he kept himself busy and spent hours cooking or reading or painting the house. She'd visited him yesterday, spent the afternoon watching him paint a rocking chair that had been in the house when he arrived. They never spoke much. Both appreciating company yet equally inclined to savour silence. When she slipped into the kitchen, Morgan greeted her, reaching into the oven, retrieving a pie. The Golden pastry and rising steam reminding Beth of the pies her dad would buy in town at Christmas.

"What are you making?"

"Sweet potato pie. Just like Grandma made. You hungry?"

She shook her head but her limped over and pulled out a chair, "your gonna eat anyway, Saint Beth."

Letting out a laugh, she obeyed, sliding into the seat, Snow lying at her feet. Morgan set the pie down in front of her. It was almost impossible to believe that not so long ago, they had shared burnt rat and cold soup out there, where fires were weak and the cold was strong. Everyone here was so focused on Christmas and the festivities that ensued, but Beth only cared about one thing right now. One promise that she needed to fulfil, her voice unsteady as she began to voice her concern, "I wanted to ask..."

"Already done. Convoy going out tomorrow, I'm gonna go with them, show them the way. I figure Rebecca will feel less nervous if I go."

Beth almost cried, biting her lip. It didn't suprise her that Morgan was a good man, that he remembered who they had left behind, but for him to know what she would say... She saw her father in him and it was painful.

"I wanna come."

"Beth, please, for me, just stay," he watched her, relieved when she gave a reluctant nod. He cut her some pie, pushing back memories of his childhood. Of winters spent with his grandma, when his mom left his dad, when his life was so broken. Grandma would make pie because she knew it helped. It helped keep him occupied when he was feeling alone and rejected. When he was cooking with her, when he was focused on something he could control, the sadness wasn't so hard to handle. Beth picked up her fork, taking a bite, smile widening as she gave him a thumbs up, looking at him pensively, "You okay here? By yourself?"

"I been on my own a long time, I'll be fine."

"Maybe Rebecca and Jess could live with you... If you wanted."

"Sure is enough room, but they may want their own space."

Beth grinned mischievously at him, taking another mouthful of pie, "maybe you could woo Rebecca with some potato pie."

He tossed a spoonful of mashed potato at her, making her squeal. Snow leapt up, licking the smear of potato on her cheek. Morgan laughed, shooing the dog away, tossing Beth a napkin.

"Speaking of which... This Daryl Dixon..."

Beth sighed, shrugging, "Let me guess. You don't approve."

"Actually, I don't have any objections. I just wanted to say, the way you two were at the gate... Why ain't there wedding bells going off?"

He was talking about the way they had embraced, how Daryl had held her. Beth almost forgot that the reunion wasn't private. Most of the guards had seen. Rick had seen. That memory seemed so sacred, so close to her heart. The moment she found herself found after being so lost. Reliving that moment was as painful as it was comforting and some nights it was as though she might rather be lost in her memories than the new life she found so hard to connect with. She fell silent and Morgan changed the subject swiftly.

"By the way, here's that jar of pigs feet."

Glancing up, she saw him open the cupboard with the frosted glass, retrieving the jar that was so familiar a sight she managed to rouse a smile, taking it from him, wiping dust from the lid, peering at the murky contents. Wrinkling her nose, she remembered how disgusted she'd been when Daryl first showed her a pigs foot. How he'd laughed at her discomfort and teased her. Morgan set another jar down in front of her, a wide jar with misty glass, the liquid inside clear.

"Thanks... What's this?"

Morgan smirked, tapping his nose, "Moonshine. Doctor Miller had a jar in his confiscated box. Took it when he went to get my meds. Thought you might appreciate it."

Beth laughed and mockingly waved a finger at him, a hand on her hip, "I should report you."

He shrugged, watching her smile fade as she glanced at the two jars in her hands. He recognised the sadness in her eyes. The same sadness he often felt when he looked at the empty bed upstairs or the abandoned swing in his yard. The look of someone who had lost the person to whom the objects belonged to.

"You two havin' a hard time?"

Angry at her own weakness, yet mournful for the lonely ache in her chest, she nodded, frowning at him, "I don't know how to... I'm too scared to tell him."

"I think maybe you need to know who your are... Before you become a part of someone else. No doubt you love him Beth. Don't argue, it's true. Only thing standing between you and him is fear. Don't be afraid of other people... Only thing to be scared of is living with regret."

Hearing Morgan say what she'd always been too afraid to consider made Beth feel a sort of relief she'd never allowed herself to feel. A relief that came with acceptance. She'd never been able to accept what she felt, what she thought she felt. Morgan kept his eyes on her, so knowing, so aware of what was happening. It was hard to meet his gaze but she did, smiling weakly, "You seem pretty wise about this kinda stuff."

He nodded, rubbing his chin, staring into the cup before him, expression distant and pensive, "Only reason I had the perfect wife was because I took a chance. Went for someone who everyone thought was too good for me. Jenny was younger than me, learning law in college. No one thought she'd even look my way. The moment I stopped being scared and took a chance, was the day I asked her out. Didn't expect her to say yes... The way she smiled at me...

A tear fell from his eye and Beth reached out, taking his hand in hers, voice wavering,"I didn't mean to make you remember...

"No. No, I wanna help you be happy Beth. I owe you..."

"You don't owe me anything," her tone was firm, denying him the slightest chance of feeling indebted to her in any way. He smiled, tightening his hold of her thin fingers.

"Fine, but I care about you enough to wanna help. I had so many years of happiness with Jenny. No one should ever be alone because their scared they ain't good enough. Daryl won't be the one to cross that line. If he was the wrong kinda guy, he would have. He's scared too. There's more for him to fear than there is for you."

She felt so unnerved, so close to crying out in anger and sorrow and... Wiping her eyes, she sighed, "I don't... I dont wanna ruin what we have..."

"Beth, I hate to be the one to break it to you... But the closer you two get, the more your hurting eachother. Take a chance. Your lucky your not like I was. I didn't know if Jenny saw me that way... Daryl, he sees you."

Sitting still, she held into the moonshine a little tighter, the words melting into her heart. Daryl had been avoiding her, evading every situation which might mean she would see him. He didn't come to see her like her used to. Didn't ask after her. She never once considered that maybe, just maybe, Daryl was distancing himself for her. He saw what was between them and maybe he was afraid. He wasn't the type to admit to but Beth knew he was the type of man to shy away and hide from what scared him. Morgan was watching her, concerned, and she forced herself to suppress the tears that just wouldn't stop drowning her. Urging her to come into the front room, he prodded the fire and sat beside snow on the couch, letting her take the rocking chair. When he found it, a perfectly carved chair that had been left crooked and splintered, Morgan had fixed it. For her. For Beth. Seeing her now, rocking to and fro, staring into the fire, he almost wondered if someone had placed the chair in his house on purpose. Aware of how he would know it was made for her. Perfect curved wood inlaid with small wooden wings, angelic in every way. Just like her.

"Beth.., remember I promised I'd find you a guitar..."

She nodded, eyes watering as he pulled his concealed gift from behind the dresser, handing it to her, pressing a soft kiss on her head, moved to see the childlike glee in her eyes as she caressed the instrument, playing a soft note. He sat back down, let Snow rest his head on his lap, watching her bite her lip and search the fire with those crystal blue eyes. A song came to mind, from her past, a song she had forgotten until now. Taking a shaky breath, she began.

"I remember years ago

Someone told me I should take

Caution when it comes to love

I did

And you were strong and I was not

My illusion, my mistake

I was careless, I forgot

I did

And now when all is done

There is nothing to say

You have gone and so effortlessly

You have won

You can go ahead tell them

Tell them all I know now

Shout it from the roof tops

Write it on the sky line

All we had is gone now

Tell them I was happy

And my heart is broken

All my scars are open

Tell them what I hoped would be

Impossible, impossible..."

...

Daryl didn't go home. Didn't go to the gate. He lingered outside the Greene house. Sat on the porch steps and lit a cigarette. He didn't meant to stay, and yet he couldn't find the power to leave. Beth had seen him. Why didn't he let himself look at her? Why was it so hard? Times like this, when life was lonely and tough, he half expected Merle to turn up, force him to go head off into nowhere. Hell, he missed the open road. Missed surviving and living rough. It was a life he knew well. Moreover, it was a life so full of distractions that he wouldn't have time to miss his brother or long for Beth. If he could take her with him... He almost hit himself for thinking that way. Beth wasn't his. She weren't some dumb girl looking for some fun with an older guy. Not like that girl on the wall last night. Carly. He'd hated her. Watching him, predatory in every way. Merle's type of bed warmer. Easy and sharp witted. Daryl had barely survived the night without having her drag him away. God, he wanted to leave. Some time out there, being himself...

The church bells rang out, joined by calls for help. Alert and ready, he sprung up, darting round the corner, almost colliding into two guards. From their raised voices and panic stricken words, he identified what had happened. Walkers along the west wall. Drawn to it by some idiot who forgot to turn the electric fence on. A hoard of them just appeared without warning. The wall wouldn't hold. He took off down the Main Street, passing women and children hurrying inside, the men heading in his direction. Carol was by her house, rifle in hand. She saw him, expression grim her face suddenly reverting back to that women who was determined to do what needed to be done. He didn't wait for her to follow, sprinting round the corner and down the alley. The sounds of fists against metal and the cry of men calling for aid warned him that he needed to be ready to act fast. Walkers cries were filling the air. They were hammering on the metal and the groaning was deafening when Daryl reached the weak spot. The metal sheet acting as the main wall was bent, a small gap revealing a swarm of walkers. Men on the wall were shooting but most were hurrying to push the metal back, a few rushing into town to find a way of supporting the ever weakening wall. Without hesitating, he ran to the gate, pushing past the guards, slipping on the snow that had turned to ice on the road, looking over at the hoard. Soon enough, a few other guards were with him, Tyrese close behind. The hoard was suspiciously big. Too big to have just wandered upon this place. A few dozen walkers, starved, gasping and groaning as they struck the wall with their bodies. Some were walking over to the gate, noticing Daryl and the few men with him. His cross bow ended their advances but walking into a hoard was suicide, even for Daryl. Tyrese handed him over a shotgun, Carol by his side as they aimed at the walkers, the guards with them cursing as the dead began to move away from the way, eagerly stumbling over to them.

The guard closest to him cursed bending over, breathing in a way that told Daryl eh was close to vomiting, "damn whisperers must have herded them here... We sent a team out to the borders a few hours ago, ain't come back... My brother..."

Rick came next, warning them to be careful with their shots. There had been a few bullets shot at the wall and almost took down the men on the other side. Daryl cursed under his breath. The guards were mostly untrained boys or men who couldn't keep a steady hand. With the hoard getting closer, he hoped more of their group would come to help.

Unbeknownst to Daryl, his wish was being granted. Beth had heard the bell, ran for the wall, following the men who seemed close to hysterical. People shouted words like walkers and north wall, enough for her to understand what was happening. Most of the men were pushing the wall back but Beth noticed some guards taking weapons and hurrying through the gate. Only from outside could they take down the walkers and she knew they needed all the help they could get. Without hesitation, Beth followed, so small they didn't notice her, gun ready. She'd planned on slipping out of the safe zone after breakfast, just to see the park again, and she'd been glad Glenn hadn't noticed his missing pistol. He kept it under the floorboards by the front door. Beth knew enough about tracking to notice that spot on the floor, the loose screws and raised plank of wood. Holding the gun in her hand, she hurried past the road to the small group slowly clearing the hoard. Carol was there, short grey hair shining out from the collection of dark bodies. Tyrese. Beth came to their side, ignoring the stunned tone of Rick's voice as he called her name. Her eyes weren't focused on the group, nor where they wandering to the wall. Beth was focused on what needed to be done. More specifically, who needed to be killed. A few walkers were close. Carol took the first few down. Beth heard a shotgun and glanced sideways, suppressing a gasp as she saw Daryl, running up to the walkers that were wandering close to the fence, pulling at the barbed wire. Immeadietly, she trained her gun at the head of the walker approaching him, holding her bretah as she squeezed the trigger. It fell to the floor, blood streaking across the snow. She took out a few more, nervous when she saw how many walkers still remained at the wall.

"Shit, Daryl!" Rick yelled. Beth stared out, seeing him in time to notice the walkers close behind him. Daryl was fixing the fence, reconnecting the wire. She knew what he was planning but he'd taken a risk that was too dangerous. Already, he was struggling to keep the wire together in one hand while taking out walkers with his crossbow in the other. The range on her gun wouldn't give her a clean shot from this distance and without hesitating she ran forward, Rick alongside her, both drawing out their knives.

Beth took a shuddering breath, watching Daryl hack at a walker that had been dead after the first blow. He kept striking it, blood staining his trousers and arms. His hands were red with blood. The anger in his face. The fury in those strikes. The fire. She'd seen him like this before. Killing them like this. Being the person he had once been. He was mad and he wasn't going to stop. Killing them wasn't supposed to be fun. She'd told him that once. The way he kept going, the way he looked so angry, so lost. Running aheadshe, dodging Carols grasp, she stopped a little way off from him, stamping down on a walkers skull as it groaned at her.

"Daryl! Stop!" She was close to tears and she didn't know why, but seeing him this way, absorbed in his own world, taking out what he felt with a machete... He stopped and looked at her. The anger was burning in those dark eyes, teeth bared as he dropped the knife, looking at his bloodied hands. His expression changed, conflicted, before replaced by a fiery scowl. As rick and the guards took down what walkers Daryl had left, he glared at Beth. Walking toward her, she stood firm, knowing he wouldn't be coming to her with anything other than blind fury. His hand, warm with blood, grabbed her arm, staring down into her.

"Why the hell did you come out here?!"

"I knew something was happening, I had to help..."

"Like hell y'did! Why didn't you stay back?!"

"You needed help..."

His fingers tightened their hold if her arm, the pain was strong but her anger was stronger. She let him pull her closer, face to face, his eyes shining with a fire she didn't recognise. This wasn't just rage. There was guilt and it was drowning him, his voice a lethal whisper, "You think I want you here? Putting y'self in danger, expectin' me to save ya..."

The words hurt and she pushed him away, shaking, glaring at him.

"I don't need saving! I don't need you playing hero. In case you forgot, I saved myself!"

Daryl felt a sharp jab of guilt in his ribs and he fought the urge to hit something. He wasn't mad at her, he was mad at himself and she had just spoken the words that burnt into him every moment he spent thinking of her. He'd failed her. Hadn't saved her. Hadn't been there to protect her. Yet here she was, putting him first, running after him because she knew damn well he wasn't okay. Somehow, he was still enraged, grabbing her again, pulling her to the gate. She didn't fight back, instead, she twisted from his grasp and marched ahead, leaving him to follow her, blood burning in her veins as she realised how much she hated him. In that moment, she hated him, and he knew it.