AN: To answer a question posed to me in a review, I'm not entirely sure. I've gone back and forth and how I want this story to end, we'll see. I doubt it'll go the regular route though.

Okay. So, this is a very dark and very rough chapter. The brunt of the reason for the M-rating is going to manifest here. If you're trigger-prone, please don't read. It's not a good light for Daryl, but with that one scene with their "Never Have I Ever" game I got vibes that an inebriated and affronted Daryl has the potential to be a very dangerous thing. Good people can do bad things and bad people can do good things, and all that.

Part Two, Night

True to his world, Daryl had found an opossum for them to have for dinner. Cleaning and cooking meat was more in his wheelhouse than Beth's, so he made the food. After eating, Beth sang some at the piano while Daryl smoked and stared out the window. They talked idly of what they planned to do and when they planned to venture out to look for the others.

The darker it got the more Daryl went out to 'check the perimeter'. Surprisingly, Beth stayed around. She continued playing the piano and singing random songs. Each time Daryl came back she looked at him hesitantly and curiously. The more he drank, the more his mind started to spread out again.

Daryl felt that he operated as something strung together tight with wire. Something bound and buried and packaged just so, so that he could be the quiet and aloof one in a group. If he opened his mouth, he felt he'd be found out. He figured people would see where he'd been and what he'd done and second guess his company. Being that way put a strain on a man. The alcohol loosened the knots and let the parts of him he'd picked up over the years come undone. So what if it wasn't pretty? It was him, he was the sum of those fucked up parts.

He stood facing the window and smoking as she played, thinking his thoughts. He turned back toward her and saw her profile. She was currently lost in her song and wasn't on guard toward him. He took the time and watched her for a good few minutes. Daryl considered Beth attractive, of course. She was a good bit younger than him , but young was rarely a bad thing, Merle would say. Most of the time, Daryl didn't see Beth like his drunk mind was letting him. She was too good to look his way, and he scared her enough, most of the time it was better to block out the part of him that saw her as a young woman.

But his mind unraveled and he didn't much care about logistics. Why not? He thought a lot of her. She might think so of him, too. He turned and walked out to the porch. He took the moonshine and downed more. He almost giggled. It was almost as if he was a nervous teenager, steeling himself to ask a pretty girl out.

Daryl came back into the house. Beth was between songs and looked up at him instantly. She gave him a curious look as he walked towards her, a smile still on his lips.

"So, Beth. I just think you should know," he slurred, "I think you're cute".

She frowned slightly. She seemed instantly uncomfortable.

"No,no, that's not the word. You're beautiful really. I don't know how you could see what you've seen and still think something's worth something. But you do, and I admire that I guess. I don't know what I expect me saying this to come to, I mean the world ain't the way it was, but I just don't know. I wanted you to know I felt that" he mumbled, almost incoherent.

"Daryl, I-," she started.

"I mean, I can't take you out nowhere. Where would we go, right? But maybe what I'm saying is I'd like to get to know you better " he finished.

Beth smiled meekly and stood. She stepped towards Daryl and took his hand in hers. He blinked and looked down, a bit taken aback at her approaching him. But there was something in her demeanor that didn't hit him right.

"You're drunk, Daryl" she said softly, "I don't know if you really mean what you say"

He frowned, "Yeah I do and no I'm not"

She shook her head gently, "It doesn't matter right now. We can talk more tomorrow. Maybe tonight you should turn in".

Daryl's insides went cold. He was being rejected. He froze, unable to speak. And the rejection was by Beth, so she was being as gentle as possible. Of course he'd be rejected. He was a dirty hick, twice her age. She was young and lovely. What the hell was he thinking? Beth smiled gently and released his hands. Her eyes wandered around the room, she seemed to be searching for something to change the subject.

"I think I'll turn in myself. It'd be nice to get an early start. I'd like to look for some more berries. Maybe some nuts or herbs or something. You never know, with the woods taking themselves back over, there could be neat things growing out there" she rambled.

"Yeah, yeah. Of course. Something new to eat, yeah" Daryl answered softly. He looked at the ground. The cold inside him had dimmed, but he still felt stung and numb.

Beth turned and darted around the room, blowing out candles as she went. Once almost all of them were out, Beth picked up two and turned towards Daryl. "Goodnight, yeah?"

"Yeah, sleep well" he managed.

"We'll talk tomorrow, Daryl. Sleep it off" Beth said, turning and heading up the stairs to her room. Alone again, Daryl felt the cold inside himself reignite and radiate out from his core. The room felt small and mean, like it was snickering at his stupidity. Daryl's vision was swimmy and sideways. His drunkness now felt like a huge burden. He couldn't reason, he couldn't reassure himself. It became hard to swallow. Merle would get a kick out of what just happened. His father would have given him a detailed list of why what just happened had happened. He wasn't strong enough. He was soft around th edges. He didn't amount to a pile of shit. If he was going to be so tender and weak, he might as well have been there to burn up in the house too with his crazy bitch of a mother. He felt tears prick that backs of his eyes.

He couldn't get rid of this progressive spiral to his thoughts, he just couldn't. He had two choices: drink more or lay down in his coffin bed and cry like a bitch. Daryl brought one arm roughly across his face, wiping away the start of his tears. No, he decided, he couldn't be alone with his head now. Daryl left the house in a hurry, grabbing a bottle from beneath the porch steps.

Daryl eyed the amount. About a fourth left. He uncorked the bottle and chugged the whole amount. The moonshine stung and burned as it went down. When the bottle ended he threw it under the steps. Not enough.

He grabbed another full bottle. Daryl uncorked it and chugged and chugged. Before he knew it, half the bottle was gone. His throat protested. His stomach lurched. Daryl came up for air and closed his eyes tightly.

Suddenly he felt an immense warmth spreading out from his center, melting his shame, banishing his thoughts.

"Oh, hello" he sighed, lovingly. Daryl put the bottle to his lips again and downed the rest of the bottle. The warmth reached his fingers and toes and cycled back through his body. He was a current of warmth and fuzz and confusion. He wanted more. Daryl leaned down and picked up the last bottle he had. He momentarily looked at it before uncorking it and throwing more back. He idly remembered he'd brought four bottles. The first one and three quarters had lasted him a while. He was making short order of the remaining two and a fourth.

Daryl laid back on the porch and closed his eyes again. He basked in the warmth, feeling the solid and reassuring wood of the porch underneath him. His mind buzzed and sang. He listened to the cicadas and the sound of the gentle summer night breeze rustling the trees. There was something beautiful about nowhere, he mused. He came from nowhere, he was nothing. This was where he belonged and he was okay with it. Lit up and lying in the night air.

The warmth in Daryl had banished all his numb coldness from Beth's rejection. His mind felt renewed. He felt as though maybe he wasn't so bad after all. He idly considered the night's events in this new light. He'd put his cards on the table, and frankly she'd snubbed him. Why? Hell, if he knew. Yeah, she came from that incestuous, yellow-bellied, middle class, religious family but she was just as rural and backwoods as him. Maggie was the one that had gotten out and gone off to some fancy college. Beth hadn't yet. She'd lived her whole spoiled life on that farm, even somehow survived the turning, and yet she still had the audacity to try to kill herself.

He sat up, remembering the time on her father's farm. She wanted to die, she wanted to live. She couldn't make her silly mind up. And now, he ends up with her after the prison shitstorm and she decides she wants to cut loose and drink for the first time with big bad Daryl.

He stood. Then, when he found her liquor, she insulted him. She thought he was some ex-convict. She just used him as part of her stupid teenage rebellion. That almost made him angry. Daryl noticed that the warmth in him had continued to increase. Hell, it was basically on fire now. He couldn't tell what he was feeling exactly.

Something else began to rise up inside Daryl. Something hot and dark. It slithered its way out and molded itself to his being. This thing wasn't Daryl. He felt himself submit to it, allowing it to use his muscles and bones. He stood. His convictions and his motives were not his own.

Damnit, he was a man. It was the end of the world. When was the last time he got laid? All work and no play. Everyone expected him to risk life and limb to protect the group. And then they did some shit like Beth had, insulting his character, pitying his advances. He was their attack dog. Keep it on a leash, use it as needed, then put it out back at a safe distance.

"No, fuck that" he said to the warm night air. He took one last swig of his moonshine. This time not to steel himself, but to fuel the new dark awareness that had come over him.

Daryl turned, purposefully and headed back into the house. He lit a cigarette and stood at the stairs leading to the second story. He smoked it long and slow. Near the cigarette's end, he'd decided and began climbing the stairs. He made his way up, and stood before Beth's door. He finished the cigarette and snubbed it out on the door.

He reached out and opened the door. His eyes adjusted sluggishly to the candle-lit room. She was there in her bed. Beth groggily awakened, she frowned lightly and looked at Daryl. She was confused. She had no idea.

"Something wrong?" she asked sleepily.

Not speaking, he strode widely across the room, staggering some with his drunkness. His mind was made. Whatever he decided for her after just depended. He was a born Dixon, after all.

Beth sat up, alarmed. It was almost cute how even in her growing panic she still had a hint of confusion in her demeanor. What was the guard dog doing? It didn't belong up here in its master's chambers.

With anger and force, Daryl leaned down, grabbed her by her wrists, and pushed her down as he crawled onto the bed. Beth was on full alarm now, her eyes were wide, her mouth open in a terrified O. He yanked the covers down angrily and straddled Beth, reclaiming her wrist and pinning her fully down on the bed. She wore some oversized t-shirt to bed, something he'd never seen.

"I don't-I, no. Daryl? What are you?" she blurted out, her breathing increased, a tinge of tears and fear in her voice.

He smiled a wicked and angry smile, it looked almost maniacal in the candle light. He leaned down close to Beth's face, putting his mouth by her ear. "I'm going to fuck you" he stated, his voice thick and hot with moonshine.

Beth made a small crying sound, her face screwed up. She writhed underneath his weight, "No, Daryl, please".

He took one hand and put it around her throat, squeezing slightly just to hear her cry out. He used his other hand to roughly pull up her shirt. Just seeing her bare stomach and legs sent a jolt through him. He wouldn't need much. He noticed he was almost ready. He put one hand between her legs and began coaxing her. Beth's eyes widened.

Daryl repositioned himself, still holding her down by the throat. Beth scratched uselessly at his hand and cried. He put himself between her legs. He was hard. He took his knife out of his belt and held it up to catch the light. Beth's cried harder and shut her eyes tightly. He stroked the knife down her stomach and her thighs, doubling back to push the blade under her underwear.

Swiftly he brought the blade up, slicing through her underwear. He pushed the remnants aside and forced two fingers deep inside her. Beth cried out and struggled against him. He brought his fingers in and out a few times. She was true to her nature, she was surely a virgin, and an extremely tight one at that.

"Daryl. Not like this, I don't, please" she squeaked out.

He ignored her plea and undid his pants. He was as hard as a rock now. Repositioning the two of them one last time he placed himself at her entrance. Her breathing his erratic now. Her crying loud and completely unchecked.

He savored the moment and held his breath. He tightened his grip around her throat, closing off her windpipe entirely. The dog would become the master. He pushed himself hard and deep inside her. He felt something deep inside her part and tear around him. It was complete euphoria.

Beth made an inhuman cry and used all her remaining might to recoil against him and push away. And then she broke entirely, her crying became ragged and painfully loud. Daryl put his free hand over her mouth and buried his head in her neck. He pounded away, completely forgetting who he was and where he was. He mercilessly claimed her over and over. She struggled and writhed like an animal being murdered.

When he came it was strong and it racked his entire body. He felt himself melt entirely. The hot angry heat dying out and funneling its way from his body. He saw light behind his eyes, he felt enshrouded in her scent and the feel of her skin.

Breathing raggedly and covered in sweat, Daryl released her throat and rolled over. His vision dimmed out and sleep took him, instantly.

Part Two, Day

Daryl awoke alone. The light was too bright. His eyes hurt. His head pounded and throbbed so much that he felt it was accompanied with a loud rhythmic thud in his head. He sat up uneasily and looked around the room with confusion.

He was in Beth's bed. His whole being went to ice. He broke out in a cold sweat. Why was he here? Where was Beth? He looked around the room wildly and saw a small crumpled frame on the floor by the bed. A thousand thoughts rushed at Daryl at once and he knew everything.

His stomach retched and bile rose to the back of his throat. She lay there, motionless save a small rise and fall of her back. He noted that there were bruises on her fair skin. And, with complete horror, he saw blood on the backs of her legs.

He swallowed hard, shoved the back of a fist into his mouth, bit down, and began to cry. He tried to do so quietly. What the hell had he done? Daryl laid back and ran his fingers through his hair. He pushed the palms of his hands hard into his eyes. He wanted to gouge them out. He wanted to undo everything he'd done.

A small shuffling sound came from the floor. Daryl tried to quell his crying and feign sleep. His breathing hitched with suppressed tears. A small weight appeared on the bed. He kept his eyes closed tight behind his palms.

Beth crawled into the bed next to him and balled up at his side. He heard her breathing hitch as well. She sniffled softly. He didn't think it was possible but hearing her crying made him feel even worse. He turned his shoulder away from her and began to sob uncontrollably. He couldn't keep himself quiet, he was entirely distraught.

Daryl felt small shaky arms encircle his back as Beth molded her small frame against his back. He felt her tears on his shirt as she buried her face in his back. He didn't understand why the fuck she was touching him. He didn't get why he didn't have a bullet through his skull. Why was she still here? Why was he still alive? Lord knows, he wanted to kill himself.

"Daryl" she said softly. Her voice was monotonous and low.

He cried on, unable to form words to answer her.

"I didn't want it like that" she stated evenly.

"I don't know why I-. I'm going. I'll leave. Right now. I'll fuck off and you'll never see me again. Or get rid of me, please, find the others, send them after me. Put me down" he replied through tears.

Beth had stopped crying, he felt her face leave his back. She moved away and put her hand on his shoulder, pulling him to face her.

"I didn't want it like that" she restated, "but….I've wanted to be with you"

Daryl watched her incredulously and she met his eyes with a hard fierce anger he'd never seen before. She continued, "Goddamnit, Daryl, you're not Merle. You're not Rick either. Or Glenn. Or Tyrese. Or anyone else in the group. And you're not a fucking violent drunken asshole".

"I don't understand" he spoke, his voice still shaky but his tears gone.

"You keep trying to be something you're not to avoid being something you think you are. You want to keep a distance from me and everyone else, but then get piss drunk and hit on me?" she stated.

"I'm sorry I- I'd never want to hurt you" he answered softly.

"Stop, Daryl. Just stop. You can't take it back. It happened. I liked you. I really did. I've had a crush on you for the longest. And you just get completely shitfaced and you…you" she said, trailing off. There was something changed in Beth. She was furious. She was strong and bold. Daryl felt a twinge of something inside him. He wanted to apologize a thousand times. He wanted to crawl on hands and knees through glass to atone to her.

"Beth, I…I.." he whimpered.

She reached out and grabbed Daryl by the back of his head, pulling his hair hard. She brought him close and kissed him hard. He could only kiss back, hesitantly. Afraid to touch her at all.

"I love you" he spat out when they separated.

Beth moved away from Daryl and sat up. She answered sadly, "I don't know, Daryl. And I don't know where we go from here. But I'm not where I was anymore, you saw to that"

She got up from the bed and stood, her back to Daryl, "Do not drink anymore or I will kill you. Stay here in the room as long as you like this morning, but don't ever come back in here again or I will kill you" she stated.

Daryl felt cold and hollowed out. Her words stung him.

"I think it's also best we keep a civil distance for a time" she said. Beth left the room.

Daryl laid there, he felt like some hole had been poked him and something critical was seeping out of him. It was as though he was losing blood and a panicked and throbbing feeling of vasculature going dry was spreading from the source of the wound to the rest of his body. What the hell was he going to do? What the hell HAD he done? He'd never forced a woman in his life. Sure, he'd slept with some wasted girls that probably regretted him in the morning. But he'd never hold someone down. Not in his right mind.

"That was about the dumbest thing you have ever done, baby bro" Merle snarked from across the room.

Daryl closed his eyes tight. "This shit again…" he growled s through clenched teeth. There was a new development. Hallucinating sober and without being in any life-threatening danger. He was losing his mind. He stood up and moved to the door. His mind started turning and making a list of things to gather.

"Don't get me wrong, sometimes stuck-up bitches need a good lesson. But her? The group baby? Should give her over to the walkers asap. They'll kill you on sight if you run into those losers from the prison" Merle chided.

He didn't respond, he left the room and paused, looking down the stairs sheepishly. He listened a good few minutes before he decided Beth must have left the house. Normally he'd have groaned and gone out to find her, tell her to let him know where she is and what she's doing if she insisted on going out there alone. Today he didn't deserve to be within 100 yards of her. He started down the stairs, noting that Merle followed.

Moving half-heartedly around the funeral home, Daryl gathered up provisions and packed up the sparse amount of things he called his. He left all the food behind. He'd eat off the land. He barely considered what he might need because he had no plan.

"She doesn't need all that food. Take something, you're putting a lot of trust in finding food" Merle chided.

Again, no response from Daryl. He made on last quick survey of the house as he stood with his hand on the front door. The little poked hole in him emptied out the very last bit of that critical something as his eyes rested on the piano. He felt he'd never be able to take another step or move another muscle in his life. He'd live and die staring at the piano and being hollowed out with his inner workings continuing their throbbing and crying out over their complete dehydration.

Eventually he did, and he left. He didn't see her immediately around the funeral home or in the graveyard. He wanted so badly to find her and tell her to at least go back, he would leave, stay safe at the house. Regardless, Daryl left, with hallucination Merle in tow. He didn't look up from the ground until he was half a mile from the home and reentering the wood. He stopped and glanced back toward the house from the border between forest and field.

Beth was standing on the porch, watching him. He was too far away to make out her expression.

Merle looked off at her and then looked back at Daryl, "Oh fuck her and all those yuppie fucks. You got me. We're who we are, we're cut from the same cloth"

Daryl turned back toward the forest and started walking, "Yeah, I guess so"