CHAPTER 2: Keep Dreaming

They reached the funeral home just before dark, and they headed inside. Beth placed her bag on the floor and walked into the living room, while Daryl lingered around the door. He had to get rid of his findings without Beth noticing. He chose this moment to hurry into the kitchen, hoping to find somewhere to hide them where she wouldn't see.

"Daryl?" A voice sounded from behind him. He turned to find Beth smirking at him, looking at his hands. He was holding the box in plain sight. "What are those?" Beth teased.
"Ain't nothin' for you," Daryl growled, stuffing the box back into his pocket. "Why don't 'ya mind yer own business, girl." His palms began to sweat.
"Daryl, I'm not a girl anymore. I wish you'd stop callin' me that," Beth spoke quietly, her mood evidently changing. "You don't get to treat me like shit just 'cause you ain't got no one else," she said, her anger showing in her voice. "You've 'bin treatin' me like dirt all day!"

Daryl didn't answer straight away. Instead, he turned his back to her and sighed. A silence grew between them. It hurt him to have to hurt her in order to restrain himself from doing something he'd regret.

"Look, Beth, I ain't good fer 'ya. Jus'.. Jus' get outta here an' give me some damn space, before I fuckin' go crazy!" He yelled, still not looking at her.

Beth felt tears rising in her eyes. "Jerk," she said, before storming out of the room and up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door shut behind her.

Daryl stood still, his body wooden with anger and frustration. "Fuck!" He spat, before punching the wall, making his knuckles bleed. "Shit," Daryl exclaimed, gripping his wrist. He winced and scrunched his eyes shut.

Once the pain died down, he sat on the porch outside, smoking a cigarette with his bloody hand. There was still no sign of Beth. Sitting outdoors, he had a few moments to gather his thoughts. What the fuck is going on? He thought. Why was he distancing himself from the inevitable? Why was he being so rude to such an innocent girl – woman – and why was he denying his feelings for her? Were they even feelings at all? He breathed in the poison slowly, thoughtfully, and blew it out of his nose before stepping up and heading inside, dreading his next move.

…

Beth heard a timid knock on her door. She felt her cheeks and eyes swollen from crying, and her head was pounding. Why did it upset her this much in the first place? It was just Daryl being, well… Daryl. She stood up and headed towards her door, making sure she had no more tears evident on her face. She felt uneasy, sick even, but she was ready for whatever came next.

Beth opened the door to find Daryl stood there, looking at his feet. He looked up at her, finally meeting her eyes after so long of avoiding them.
"Hey," Beth whispered.
"Hey."

They stayed like this for a while, looking at each other.

"You 'bin cryin'?" Daryl asked, actually sounding concerned for once. Beth looked away, embarrassed by her stupid little emotions, and nodded shyly.
"Yeah."

Daryl put his palm to Beth's face gently, and brought her face up so he could look at her again. His rough hands were soft against her puffy cheeks. "M' sorry, Beth. I really am," he assured her. Beth's face tingled with the heat of his hand against her delicate soft skin. The sides of her lips curved up into a small smile, and she looked away, embarrassed by her reaction.

Daryl cleared his throat and removed his hand. He began fidgeting and playing with his hair. Beth could tell he felt bad for what he had done, and she could also tell that he felt awkward standing in front of her. She knew he wasn't one for skin-to-skin contact, but he had just done it willingly, which confused Beth.

"D'ya wanna come in?" Beth asked, not believing the words that just left her mouth. Daryl nodded and walked into the room before throwing himself onto the sofa opposite the bed. He groaned, leaning back, rubbing his hand. "What did 'ya do to your hand?" Beth gasped.
"Somethin' stupid. It don't matter."
"Let me patch it up for 'ya."

Before he had a chance to protest, Beth headed to the bathroom where they kept their first aid kit. She returned with a bandage. "This'll have to do," she sighed. She knelt down in front of him and held out her hand, inviting his. He didn't move at first, but Beth nudged him and finally he gave her his hand.

She began wrapping the bandage around his knuckles, slowly and tenderly. Their fingertips brushed against each other's while she helped him. He felt the energy pulling him towards her. Daryl watched her closely, admiring the way she held his hand so softly, the way she wrapped the bandage around him with so much care, so much experience, the way she-

"There," Beth said, smiling, obviously proud of her handiwork.
"Ain't bad," Daryl began, "for a girl." He grinned. Beth knew he was joking as she stood up and playfully punched him in his shoulder. She smiled and sat down on the bed, facing him.

Darkness filled the room as they laid in silence, Beth on the bed; Daryl on the sofa. He stood up and walked to the door, ready to head to his casket.

"Wait," Beth stuttered. She had been thinking all evening, and she finally found a voice for those thoughts. "Can't you sleep in here tonight, with me?"

Daryl looked to the ground, then up at her. "I ain't sleepin' in that bed o' yours though, so get that thought outta your fuckin' head. The sofa'll do," He replied, probably a little more sternly than he meant. He knew he owed her a proper apology after snapping at her, and he thought this would suffice.

"Daryl?" Beth cautioned.
"Yeh?"
"D'ya think you could help me take my boot off? My ankle really fuckin' hurts," she complained.
"How 'bout 'ya watch that little mouth o' yours, then maybe I'll think about it," Daryl joked. He walked over to her and knelt down at the bedside, just as Beth had knelt down to help him earlier. He slowly unzipped the side of her boot and supported her ankle. He lightly tugged at the boot, and slowly removed it. Beth winced, and he eyed her an apology. He placed the boot on the floor and stood up to head back to his spot.

"What about the other one?" Beth teased.
"Keep dreamin'."

Beth smiled and settled into bed while Daryl slumped himself back down on the sofa.
"G'night," Beth smiled.
"Mhmm."