The morning light slipped through the window as though it were water, slowly filling the room, drowning everything it touched with aureate light. Every wall, every surface, turned to gold. As Beth woke to the incandescent glimmer that prised open her eyes, she felt an odd sensation coursing through her. Her dreams had been brighter. No nightmares, no dead children. She had dreamt of her father and the song she cherished so much. Now, wide awake, resting against her pillow, grief seemed an emotion she had never had the capacity to harbour. Hope emanated through her. Her chest felt warm as her heart ached in a strange way that was both wild yet comforting. She touched her lips, smiling as she felt that tingle, that warmth. Beth knew why she felt this way. Why everything seemed so bright, and it had nothing to do with the perfect morning light beaming through her curtains.
Daryl. Beth Greene had kissed Daryl. She closed her eyes, pulling the blanket closer as she relived that moment for the hundredth time. A laugh rose in her throat as she recalled how surprised he'd been, a shaky breath accompanying her recollection of his arm around her. She almost sighed as she remembered how it felt to...
"Beth! Y'awake?!"
Jumping out of bed, Beth stared in alarm as Maggie burst in, cheeks red, eyes wide and alarmed. Immeadietly, Beth ran to her sister, a hand on her stomach, asking what was wrong. Her sisters stomach was swollen, just exposed as her shirt failed to reach down. When Maggie let out a soft laugh, Beth knew she could relax, exhaling.
"It's not me, sissy, it Morgan. He's back. He found those people."
Beth covered her mouth, smiling, hugging Maggie, apologising as she felt the baby bump against her waist. Maggie laughed, kissing her sisters cheek, leading her out into the hall toward the nursery. Opening the door, Beth gasped. The mural was finished, and it was perfect. The farm was just how she remembered it. Glenn had added detail to every structure, to every tree. The masterpiece was complete with cows and horses. Beneath the mural was a name. A name she didn't understand.
"Why is daddy's name there?"
Maggie beamed, eyes bright, glistening with tears as she rubbed her stomach, winking. It took Beth a moment to realise what her sister was telling her. With a gasp, she finally understood, "a boy... It's a boy and your gonna..."
"Name him after dad. Glenn's idea. What'd you think?"
Beth nodded, her words drowned by fresh tears as she laughed and cried, holding her sisters hand. So happy. So hopeful. So relieved. If this was a dream, she prayed she might never wake. That this day might last forever. Beth was so surrounded by love that it was almost impossible to remember the day she had risen from the earth with nothing but a name that wasn't hers and a spoon engraved with a place she had never been to. Kissing Maggie, she ran to her room, tying her hair up, dressing in a hurry as she prepared to leave. To see Rebecca and Jess and Ben and Kyle. Safe and saved. Then, she would see Daryl.
...
An SUV was pulled up outside Morgan's house. Some guards were lingering by the boot, unloading a few crates. Most contained household objects. All so familiar. Pots and candles and sheets. Beth recognised the fluorescent pink blankets spilling over one of crates. The same blankets Jess had been sleeping in all that time ago. It was impossible not to run ahead, her feet slipping on the snow as she scrambled to porch, colliding with something soft and white. Snow was barking and clawing at the door, whimpering. He'd been tied to the porch railing. She wanted to set him free and let him reunite with his family but she had a feeling Morgan had kept the dog tied up for a reason. Why wasn't Jess here? Cuddling her long lost pet? Beth pushed away all doubts, opening the front door, hurrying to the kitchen where she could hear voices. As she passed the couch, she stopped, noticing a sleeping child curled up beneath a wool fleece. Curly brown hair hiding his pale face. Ben. Crouching down by his side, she gently pulled back his curls, fingers trembling with relief as she saw the face of the boy who had peered at her through an abandoned car. His cheeks weren't hollow anymore. His skin wasn't so sickly white. When she kissed his cheek, it was warm, and her heart beat faster as she hurried to the kitchen. Turning the corner, Beth saw Morgan, saw his kind smile, a steaming mug in his hands. He was handing it to...
"Rebecca!"
Beth raced to her, the woman's open arms pulling her close as they embraced, though Beth soon pulled away as she felt Rebecca shaking. Looking into her eyes, Beth realised she was sobbing, tears drowning her bright eyes as she smiled, trying to speak. Her hair was still fiery red, longer than before, almost hiding the large scar running across her forehead. A deep scar, similar to those on Beth's face. Frowning, Beth looked around the room, looking for Jess. Beth bit her lip, confused, rubbing Rebecca's arm as she asked where Jess was. The sorrowful whimper that escaped Rebecca's mouth answered her worst fear.
"No... No, please, no..." Beth's stammered, shaking her head as Rebecca handed her something, the smooth metal biting against her skin as she glanced down. It was the spoon. The Washington spoon. Here it was, without it's guardian. Beth shook her head, taking a step back, grief surging through her veins and she suddenly felt disconnected from reality, swimming in the murky depths of the past, hearing Jess sing to her from beside the coffin. Angel. That's what the girl had called her. A miracle. Beth struggled to keep herself standing as the girl seemed to appear to her, sitting on the kitchen table, singing. Always singing.
"Beth... Honey, please let Morgan explain..."
Rebecca sobbed as she took hold of Beth's hand, smiling through her tears, fingers cold as they caressed Beth's cheeks. Morgan led Rebecca away, insisting she rest, a comforting arm around her shoulders. Alone, she cursed, trying to find a reason for Jess to be... A door closed upstairs and Beth looked over to Morgan in horror, unable to piece together what was happening. Only when she opened her hand did she truly believe the fear lingering in her mind, her chest enclosing on her as breathing became a struggle. In her palm sat the Washington spoon. The spoon she'd made Jess promise to bring with her. Jess was gone. Beth couldn't keep the tears from falling, voice wavering as she looked to Morgan, "how?"
"Her heart gave out."
Beth shook her head, shaking, letting him force her to sit. No cold could hurt more than the cold that surged through her heart. Another child was dead. Another child she had failed to save.
"What happened?"
Morgan took a breath, sipping the cofee, staring into space, "Kyle. Should never have let him... Kyle and Ben found the house. Rebecca let them in, helped them. For a few days all was fine but... But Kyle wanted more. Started acting strange. Hitting Ben. Watching Jess. He tried to... Bastard tried to have his way with Rebecca..."
Beth dropped the spoon, mouth open, heart racing, "No, no please..."
He didn't seem to hear her, his eyes focused on Ben, watching him sleep, "Kyle held a knife to her, that scar... Rebecca defended herself. Hit him with a pan, killed him... Ben still doesn't know. Jess had a panic attack while Rebecca was burying the body... Ben watched her die."
Morgan paused, taking a shaky breath, absorbed in his own story, staring at the mismatched cutlery sitting in the sink. When he continued, he glanced at Beth, noticed her bowed head and shaking shoulders, his voice barely a whisper, "When I got there, I found two new graves... I didn't expect to find anyone alive but... But I found Rebecca, reading a book with Ben in the back yard... When she saw me..."
"It's my fault," Beth sobbed, suddenly unable to bear the new face in her mind, joining the legion of undead children she had put to rest. Morgan reached out to place a hand on her shoulder, to comfort her in his own way, but she sprung up, shaking as she stared at him, his words meaningless, "No Beth, it's mine, but we could never have known..."
"I should have known... I've seen this happen before... You can't trust..." The words were drowned by the tremors running through her, the grief too raw, too fresh to console. He couldn't make her see reason. He couldn't soften the blow of what this news meant. They had been the reason for Jess not being here. The reason why the spoon had come without an owner. Morgan sighed, rubbing his temples, hiding his own misery as he waved over at the boy sleeping close by, "Ben needed saving. He was half starved. When Rebecca told me what happened... She wasn't sad. She was glad to have saved Ben from his father.
She wanted to disappear. Fade away and escape existence. Just for a moment. Just to make the guilt stop. Staring at Ben, she could see a Jess in his peaceful smile. Innocence untainted by the world that threatened them. There should have been two children asleep before her. Two young innocent souls saved from the storm outside. Morgan was watching her concerned as always. Beth couldn't find the words to say. Her only thought was to run. Run till she was back at the house, back to Jess' grave where she might find her digging her way out. Miracles could happen.
"I need to check on Rebecca, you okay here?"
Beth nodded. When he left the room, she stood, draping a shawl over ben before slipping out of the kitchen door, breaths laboured and shallow as her nails dug into the wood, staring at the sky above her. A few birds were flying away, free, streaking across the pale winter sky. She wanted to melt into the snow, merge with the dirt beneath her boots. To disappear. Already she was being watched by a couple in the street. Then by a teenage girl who tossed her hair and grimaced as she passed. Beth didn't know where she was going, but her legs were taking her there. Controlled by a need to hide. Somehow, her heart knew where she might find solace and sanctuary and she was too weak with sorrow to wander where she might be leading herself. Grief has that effect. Strips you of sense and reason, leaving you empty and lost. Lost. Always lost.
...
The graveyard was surrounded by iron fences. A part of the safe zone that had been here for centuries. Older than the church, and as equally eerie. Beth climbed over the gate, finding a footing in the chain that bound the iron together. From there, she wandered. Wandered endlessly amongst the tombstones, reading the names remembering the children in the school. Remembering their faces and what she had to do. How long ago it seemed. Beth didn't want to be around anyone. At that moment, there was no one who could understand what she felt. Jess. She had failed Jess. She promised that sweet, innocent girl that she'd come back for her and then killed her by sending Kyle and Ben there. It was because of her that Rebecca had been forced to kill someone. Forced to neglect her daughter who died while she buried the man who tried to rape her. Beth was to blame. Why did she have to be so trusting? So sure that people could still be good? To think that Kyle had tried to... No. No, Beth couldn't even let herself think about what he tried to do to Rebecca. Gorman had tried to do the same thing to her. He tried to make her submit to him, make her give up and give in, let him use her and... She shook. A chill penetrating her bones. The memory was too fresh, too vivid. She couldn't think of Kyle cornering Rebecca, the kids asleep in the next room, his hand on her mouth... Jess died because Rebecca wasn't there to give her the medication she needed for her heart. Ben must have been there. Must have seen Jess slip away in her sleep. Ben lost his dad. Kyle deserved what he got but Ben... Ben was an orphan. Rebecca took him in but how could she feel about being the reason he was alone. Beth shook again and pulled her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around herself, trying to become as small as she could, retreating into herself. Tears lingered in her eyes but she didn't cry. She didn't feel entitled to shed tears for a girl she failed. Tears were for those who lost without having a chance to do anything. Beth should never have sent people she didn't know to stay with people she cared about. Even out here, sat against a grave, snow soaking her jeans, wind drying her tears, she felt numb to everything. Empty. Lost. Unable to forget every grave they ever dug. Every good bye she ever made. She wanted her mom. Beth never thought of her much anymore. The memory of her kindness and soft eyes tore her apart, but she needed her. Now more than ever. Yet, she knew, if her mother looked upon her, she wouldn't recognise her daughter. She was too changed. Too broken.
She let her head tilt back, staring up at the grey sky, snowflakes melting on her cheeks, catching on her eyelashes. Blinking, she heard something close by. The soft thud of something hitting the ground beside her. If it had been a walker, she'd be dead by now. The body sat close, not too close, but enough for her hip to be warmed by another, a hand brushing past hers as it settled on her knee. The fiery shivers and soft comfort the hand sent through her was enough to give the presence a name. Daryl.
He didn't talk, he didn't hug her or stare at her. He knew too well what she was feeling and Beth knew it. When he was looking out for that little girl, Sophia, only to find her dead in their barn... She saw his face. As sad as she had been, she noticed how he reacted. How he vanished for a few days after. They weren't that different and he knew what she didn't want to hear. Beth surprised him by talking, addressing the empty space ahead of her, voice soft and small, "When it's quite like this, I remember them. Everyone we lost."
He didn't answer, keeping his eyes on his hands, silently agreeing with her. He knew too well what came with moments like this. When the world stopped being so loud and let you think. A week ago he might have thought of Merle, but he didn't carry that scar lately. He always though of his brother, but lately, he didn't feel that lingering guilt. Here, sitting beside Beth as she trembled and stared into space, Daryl's only fears were for her. She was tough, stronger than anyone knew, but he was all too aware of how easy guilt could break you down. Consume you. The dead girl wasn't Beth's fault, she'd been a victim of bad people in a mad world.
The silence continued and Beth's chest felt her chest ache a little less, her fingers wiping away what tears lingered in her eyes, staring at the grave opposite her. The stone was old, weathered, the name long since eligible. A bunch of dead yellow flowers lay atop of it. Just like the flowers Daryl had placed when they first found Rebecca's house. The memory was warm, a light in the darkness, a glimmer of summer in the cold of winter. Daryl saw her eyes, saw them fixed on the dead flowers, his own mind taking him back to that moment. The moment they remembered her dad, together, and she slipped her fingers through his and it felt right. He couldn't imagine them doing anything but hold hands that way. It felt natural, but only now did he realise it was the first time he'd ever had someone do that with him. His own mother never took his hand, nor did any of the girls who'd passed him by and been swift to leave him after a drunken night. Seeing Beth now, shivering, curled up like she wanted to hide away, it made him realise just how much she needed him to help her get through it. He knew what it felt like better than anyone else. To lose somebody you felt responsible for. Who needed you and died before you could get to them.
He was shy by nature, guarded, nervous of trying to be anything other than what his life had made him. Tough without any reliance on anyone else. Deep down he wasn't like that, not really, but he couldn't be anything else. Beth never expected him to be anything but who he was. At that moment, he knew there was only one thing he could and he wanted to do it. Finding her hand, he took hold of it, gently parting her fingers, slipping his between hers. He never noticed how big and rough his hands were. Compared to hers, his were clumsy and imperfect, but she didn't let go. She tightened her grip and he saw her breathe a little easier. The touch of his hand, the pressure of his fingers, gave her the strength to handle the grief. To remember Jess for the girl she was. Hopeful. Kind. Enjoying life as if the dead had never risen up. The spoon was still in her other hand and she held onto it, the metal biting into her skin. She'd have sat there for the rest of her life if she hadn't heard the voices. People were coming and soon, it wouldn't be so desolate. To have more eyes focused on her would tarnish the warmth of the moment and she knew, with a heavy heart, that her sister was waiting for her.
"C'mon," Daryl murmured as he began to stand, their hands still tightly entertwined as she rose with him, shivering from the snow that and soaked through her jeans. He kept hold of her hand, anchoring her to reality, keeping her strong.
"I don't wanna go home... Can we go somewhere..."
Her voice was low and weak but it made him smile, pulling her a little close, worried she might slip away and join the ghosts of the graveyard behind him. His jaw was tight and his voice soft when he replied to her, "Think I know somewhere."
...
"What's got you so scared Dixon?"
Beth said it like a joke but he saw past the light tone and small smile. They'd been at the shack an hour or so. Once the fire was burning, they'd sat down. She was keen on finding some sort of distraction from her thoughts and picked up a book. Since the graveyard, she hadn't said a word, and he was worried about her. He watched her, noticing how her lips moved as she read, how her fingers played with the pages, how she curled her knees up under her. Small things she did just seemed so fascinating lately. Daryl wasn't use why but he kept her from noticing how close he was watching her, fixing a broken arrow. When she did speak, the amused question caught him by surprise and he shrugged, still focused on his task.
"I ain't afraid of nothin'"
Beth took a shaky breath, still smiling, daring to continue, "That's funny, cus' I was sure for a moment you were scared of me."
The grief of losing Jess was still fresh but Beth wanted to have hope again. She wanted to push past the pain and forge her new life. Daryl was an important part of that. The kiss seemed more like a dream than an actual occurrence but Beth still felt the warm flush on her cheeks that occupied the memory of what she had done. Seeing Daryl now, it was hard not to focus on his mouth, or on his hands. Hands that had held her in that perfect way... Beth looked up at him, not expecting anything. When he spoke, his voice was low, edged with a nervousness that made her smile widen, "I'm not good at telling people how I feel."
"Daryl, I need to know... What do you want?"
His eyes darted up to hers, so violently blue she could have sworn the fire was burning in his irises. He suddenly looked strong yet crippled, fiery yet weak. As though he were fighting a battle behind those eyes.
"I just want the best for you Beth... Even if what's best for you ain't me."
She heard the pain in his voice, as hard as he tried to hide it. Daryl wasn't what people thought he was. He seemed the type to be aggressive, to be alone and hostile to anyone who tried to push him into place. She shivered when she remembered what those girls had called him. Those kinds of rumours didn't just arise from idle teen gossip. Their parents must have said something. Maybe passed on from the guards who always gave him that wary look. Like he was a convict who might reoffend at any moment. Even in her own group, Daryl had been the one who changed the most. He'd been hostile, angry, brutal, but he wasn't bad. Daryl was that person who was treated like crap and tended to expect nothing but crap from everyone else. She didn't need to ask him about his upbringing. He'd told her enough, here and there, on the road. Carl had told her about Daryl's mom, Michonne and explained enough about Merle. In the end, it didn't matter. Who he was, where he came from, what he'd suffered. It was all in the past. Same way her suicide attempts and Grady nightmares were in hers. He was as damaged as she was.
"Maybe this ain't about what's best. I'm not perfect either, Daryl. I can't sleep without having bad dreams, I can't sing without seeing dead kids... I'm damaged. I'm not the best thing for anyone, but I wanna be better... With you."
"What about Maggie?" He lingered by the fire, staring down at his hands, expression conflicted. Beth couldn't read what lay behind his grim set mouth but she felt nervous, uneasy. Afraid.
"Why does it matter? This ain't about her."
He looked up, rubbing his neck, watching her for a second before his eyes fell, "People will talk."
Angry, she stood, walking over to him, waiting for him to meet her fiery gaze before she spoke, "I don't give a shit what anyone says. Since when do you care? This ain't about anyone else but us. I don't have time for bullshit so be real with me or forget the whole damn thing... What do you want, Daryl?"
The room fell silent as he battled with himself. His mind at war as he fought between his heart and his head. What he felt for her right now was more powerful than anything he'd ever felt in his life, but he wasn't stupid. He knew what it would mean to tell her. He'd be sentencing her to a life with someone like him. She had kissed him last night. The advantage was that he could push her away and not have to admit to feeling the same way, but when he met her eyes, saw how afraid she was, how uneasy, it broke him. He had done a lot of bad things in his life, but he couldn't break her. Instead, he let the silence drown them until she spoke up.
"You really think your no good, don't you."
It wasn't a question. It was a fact. She saw it and she called it, spitting the last words out as though they threatened to poison her. Beth felt sick. Not by his silence or the fear of enduring a life without him, but because if everything he'd ever been through that made him see himself the way he did.
"Leave it Beth."
His warning was uttered with a weary sigh, his hand rubbing his forehead. Beth didn't want to cry, not in front of him, but seeing him this way was too hard for her. Too painful. She wished it was one sided. That he didn't feel what she felt. Knowing that he did and kept away because he didn't feel right for her was enough to drive her insane. Shaking, her tears simmered into sudden rage as she stood before him, "Fuck you Daryl! And fuck everyone who ever let you think you weren't good for anything!"
She moved to leave, heading for the door, knowing she'd never go back to the safe zone. The city was empty and vast. She could wander through it, alone, like the ghost she was meant to be. However, her hasty retreat was stopped short when a hand that grasped her arm, fingers curling around her wrist. His skin against hers made her shiver with a feeling she was yet to name, pulling her back, his voice calmer as he muttered a hasty, "Wait!"
"Let me go! I mean it Daryl lemme go..." Her words flailed as he drew her to face him, a weary smile on his crooked lips as he watched her, shaking his head with a gruff laugh. Beth was determined. Determined to break down every barrier that lay between them. As nervous as he was, he couldn't help but be amused by how fierce she was. How strong. She was still so full of fire. So bright. So alive. He'd missed that spark. Just thinking of where he'd be now without her was hard enough. Holding her, he could feel the warmth of her skin and knew he'd never overcome that surge of comfort that came with the briefest of touches. His hand slipped around her neck, looking down at her with a smirk that made her take a shaky breath to steady herself. He noticed and couldn't imagine how he'd ever cause that kind of reaction, voice unsteady as he spoke, "And people think I'm the savage."
Beth was still angry, her lips quivering as she stared up at him in confusion. He knew there was only one way to make everything okay. One way to make them both happy. One way to erase those lingering images of a world without her, wandering amongst the undead, becoming one of the walking dead. This time, Daryl didn't hesitate. His lips found hers, crushing against each other as he let himself take control. Beth let a soft moan slip as he deepened the kiss, his chest suddenly feeling less constructed. Less burdened. His mind was no longer filled with worries and fears. All inhibitions had been surpassed. As his mouth silenced her, Beth knotted her fingers in his hair, letting out an exhilarated gasp as he lifted her up, her legs encircling his waist the same way they had when she found him. Suddenly, she was there, in the past, reliving that moment, remembering how close she had been to kissing him like this. The memory made her need for him grow stronger and the kiss grew more passionate as he pressed her against the wall, his hands rough but his hold was gentle. She almost laughed when she felt him press harder against her as her nails lightly ran across his shoulder. To pull away would be painful but Beth knew she needed to tell him. To make sure she didn't screw this up. Whispering his name, he pulled his mouth from hers and she tried to find her breath, all to aware of how her body ached for him. As he watched her, smirking, hair tousled and eyes bright, Beth almost lost the ability to speak, overcome by a mixture of wild desire and unfathomable affection.
"I dont... I don't wanna date, or run about messing round like some idiot kid. I just want someone with me... There for me when it all starts falling apart. When I wake up from a nightmare or when I can't look at a dead one without seeing the faces of everyone we lost... I'm not a child anymore. Haven't been in a long time and I need you to know that."
He nodded, brushing back her hair, wondering if she knew he'd never seen her as a child. Not for a long time. Beth was a fighter, a survivor. She might sing songs and smile at the sky, but she wasn't a child anymore and he knew it, "What are you saying Greene?"
"I want someone to care about me and be there by my side, through all the bad and the good... and I want that person to be you... Because you take care of me... And I take care of you."
Daryl looked at her and nodded, her lips curving into a smile as she realised he agreed. Carefully, his hand reached behind her, a single arm supporting her weight as his fingers found her ponytail, pulling her hair free of its band, her hair falling across her face. She knew then, in that moment, his chest against hers, his eyes averted. She knew he loved her the way she loved him. This wasn't like anything she knew and that made it her feel both nervous and exhilarated. He'd given his assent. The man who never seemed to find a way of committing to anything had just giving his consent for them to be together. As he pushed her up against the wall, leaning down as his hungry lips found hers, Beth surprised herself by letting her tongue prise his mouth open. There was a shared lust coursing between them and Beth found her breaths were shallow, heart racing, her mind dwelling on the desperate need to feel him against her. Her wish was granted as Daryl pinned back her arms, holding her hands as he kept her where he wanted her, arms outstretched as though she were being crucified by the devil, his lips moving to her neck, making her cry out in ecstasy. Their senses were more alive than ever. Every pressure, every touch, every soft meeting of lips to skin making Beth gasp. When she pulled his mouth back to hers, unable to survive for long with her lips on his, she felt him push against her, closer, and without hesitation she began to slowly unbutton his shirt. Daryl caught her fingers as they found the last button, pulling away from the kiss, studying her with an intense stare.
"If you... Wanna stop..."
Beth rolled her eyes, lips feeling cold as she thirsted for what had been so swiftly interrupted, her hand resting on his neck as she sighed, "Shut up."
"I mean it, Beth..." He began but she smiled kissed his cheek, moving her mouth to his ear, her hand moving to his heart. Her voice was a whisper, exhilarated and pleading, "So do I. Please."
Daryl could almost swear he saw stars swimming in those perfect blue eyes. Constellations danced in her irises as he read her every need. He was afraid of breaking her. She was so perfect, so fragile in her own way, and yet so fiery in another, and look in her eye told him what she wanted and in a second, they were on the floor. The pain was deep and made her cry out, but the pleasure was enough to drive her mad. Every touch was intoxicating. Every kiss drawing her further into a state of mind she had never understood till now. That place where nothing mattered, save for the pleasure coursing through her nerves and the basic instinctual need for something only Daryl could give her. There was no room for doubt or fear. Not when they were so equally matched. What love she felt for him grew stronger with every moment spent in his embrace. Daryl didn't need her to say anything. He'd known for a long time that what he felt for Beth wasn't something he'd been able to name for one reason only. He'd never been in love. Now, as she arched her back, lying beneath him, calling his name, he wasn't sure how he'd ever fooled himself into thinking he could live without a love like this.