A/N: Because I don't see Daryl and Beth getting intimate before his scars on his back are addressed. Here is the obligatory Beth finds out about his scars scene. So this would take place kinda early on in their relationship.

Beth hadn't talked to Daryl all day. Both of them had been up since early in the morning, but she had been taking care of Judith and organizing supplies, and he had been pouring over maps with Rick and Abraham. She finally had some time to herself and she had seen him walk back into the farmhouse they were staying in, so she followed him in, turning the corner and walking into the living room they had been sleeping in.

When she found Daryl, he was standing with his bare back towards her, reaching for a new shirt to wear. She hadn't seen him shirtless before, things hadn't progressed physically to that point between them yet, and the scars on his back took her by surprise. Things started adding up in her head. She had known Daryl for years now, how had she not realized this before? She knew he had a rough childhood, but seeing the deep purple reminders of it was something else entirely and she unconsciously let out a gasp. He immediately spun around. Scrambling to cover himself with the new flannel shirt he had grabbed.

She took a few steps towards him, she could feel her eyebrows scrunch together in concern, "Daryl…"

"I don't need your pity, girl," He cut her off. His voice was flat and cold. Menacing. It would make someone else back off, but not her. She'd stood up to him before and come out alive. She wasn't scared of him.

"Well you obviously don't know me as well as you think you do if you think I pity you." She took a step farther into the room. Closer to him. And he took a step back, farther away. Like a cornered animal.

"Yeah, that look on your face says different." She could hear his anger rising. She could practically see him throwing his walls back up around him. He was talking to her like he didn't give a shit about her, like he was writing her off as someone who was going to run away, and that pissed her off.

Her heart started beating faster. She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. He could rile her up like no one else. She'd never been a yeller, but sometimes the way he acted made her want to start. She reminded herself to stay calm. Taking a deep breath, she tried to keep her voice as steady as possible. "I'm hurting for you. It's different." Her voice was thick with emotion. She could feel it trying to choke her. God, she hated how deeply she felt sometimes.

His face was still stoic, his eyes narrowed. She couldn't read him. She didn't know if he thought that was any better than pity. This was foreign territory to her, but he hadn't walked away yet, so she pressed her luck. "I hate that you had to go through something like that."

"Life ain't no fairy tale for all of us. Shit happens"

"Daryl, shit like that doesn't just happen." She tried to close the gap between them, but he just side-stepped her. She could tell he was trying to make it out of the living room.

"Whatever." He tried to walk away.

She grabbed his arm, pulling him back towards her. "No. Daryl Dixon, you do not get to walk away from me this time. You are going to sit here and hear me out. And then you can walk away." She got that determined look in her eyes, she felt that strength she first felt when they were yelling at that moonshine still. She always knew she could be strong when she needed to be, but something about being around Daryl seemed to make that strength come out much more often. "I care about you, a lot. And it scares me sometimes, and I think it scares you too."

"You don't…" He tried to interrupt her. His eyes hardened, steeling himself for an argument, but she put her hand up to stop him, and surprisingly he did, looking shocked. Letting her speak again.

"No. I'm not done yet. I know. I know, You ain't scared of anything. You can say that to everyone else, not to me." She was talking fast, like all of these words just needed to get out of her. "I don't like seeing those scars on your back because I care about you, and thinking about you being in pain hurts me so much it makes me feel like I'm in pain."

She took a deep breath, trying to slow herself down. She met his eyes, trying to convey to him how sincere she was being. "But if you think that this makes me see you differently, or makes me think you're too messed up for me or whatever, you're wrong. It doesn't change a damn thing." She stepped back and let go of his arm. "Ok, I'm done now. Go ahead and walk away if you want to."

And yeah, she knew he was more comfortable with her than he was with anyone else, but he wasn't going to turn into a new man overnight and she didn't want him to. So he picked up his crossbow and he moved around her, walking out the front door and towards the woods, refusing to turn around and look at her. Pretending she wasn't even there. Leaving her alone with the ugly yellow floral wall paper and green plaid couch. She didn't know what she was feeling. No one confused her as much as Daryl Dixon. She felt like she should be mad, but she wasn't. If there was one thing she was absolutely sure of about herself it was that she wasn't a fool. She was smart and she could read people. She knew that Daryl came along with baggage. If she wanted to be with him, she was going to have to be ok with it.

Later when she was taking Judith back from Rick after some much needed father-daughter time, she asked Rick if he knew where Daryl had went. He looked at her with this deep understanding and just assured her he'd went hunting and would be back soon. It took a few hours for Daryl to come back, but she knew he would. When he got back to camp, he seemed to be using every excuse to avoid her, talking to Rick, talking to Carol, fiddling with his crossbow, sharpening his knives. She let him be. She had made all her moves, it was his turn.

She wondered if he would come sleep by her tonight. If not, it would be the first time she slept alone in almost two weeks. The first time she slept with him, she had been really nervous. She had wanted to go and lay with him for two nights in a row at that point. The third night she was fed up with letting her fear win out, so she plucked up all her courage and resolve and just went for it. They were all living on borrowed time. And she didn't want to live her (what was mostly likely going to be severely shortened) life being plagued by regrets. If she wanted to do something, she had to do it now. There was a very real possibility that there may not be a later.

She gathered up her pillow and the comforter that she had been using as a sleeping bag of sorts and made her way over to where he was sleeping. Everyone in their group had claimed random areas of the house for themselves. She had been sleeping in the living room with Michonne, Carl, and Judith. He didn't like being cooped up in the house with so many people, but he also didn't want to be too far away from her, so he was sleeping out on the wraparound porch. He had made a little makeshift bed out of some scavenged blankets and throw pillows. She made her way through the house to the front door as quietly as possible, stepping carefully over sleeping bodies and stealthily around tables and chairs. As soon as she opened up the screen door, pillow and blanket in hand, she felt his eyes on her. She could barely make him out, but from what she could see, he looked unsure, almost a little frightened. But he didn't say anything until she put her pillow down right next to his and then laid out her comforter on the ground next to him.

He finally spoke up. Asking her in a whisper edged with a bit of panic, "What're you doing?"

She sat down next to where he lay and shrugged her shoulders, trying to appear much more nonchalant than she was feeling. "Sleeping next to you, what does it look like?"

She lay down, moving around a bit, trying to get comfortable. It was much cooler out here on the porch, but something about being this close to Daryl and being able to hear the crickets much more clearly made her feel like she should have come out here the first night she wanted to.

"Well you shouldn't." He rolled over on his back. He stared up at the exposed wood planks of the ceiling. His voice sounded hollow. Unconvincing.

"I shouldn't?" She wrapped herself up in her blanket, snuggling into the blanket and pulling it up to her chin, hoping that she hadn't totally miscalculated their dynamic.

"Nah."

"Do you not want me here?" She had tried not to let it, but she could hear the way her fear of rejection had tinged her voice, making her sound small and young.

He took a while to respond, then turned back towards her. She could barely make out the blue of his eyes in the darkness and quietly she heard him admit, "Didn't say that."

She smiled at him, freed her hand from her comforter, and grabbed his hand from where it was laying at his side, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Ok then. I'm staying." It took a few nights for him to adjust, but she knew that he liked her there when he would ask her what her plans were every night. You have watch now? You sleeping by Judith tonight? Four nights later, he was laying on his back and she was curled up on her side, using his chest as a pillow, loving the comforting sound of his heartbeat and the feel of his steady breathing.

Since then they had made their way farther north and they were now holed up in another farmhouse. It was getting cold, so she convinced him to sleep inside the house with her. He managed to make it back into their little nest of blankets in the corner of the living room that they had claimed for themselves. She was facing the wall, not asleep yet, she couldn't fall asleep without knowing what he was thinking. But he lay down next to her, and she knew that meant everything.

She looked over her shoulder to where he was laying, he had his back facing towards her. She sighed. He was stubborn, and he didn't know how to do all of this, but she didn't exactly either. But she figured it took a lot of courage for him to just come here and lay by her, she could make the next step for him. So she rolled over and pressed herself into his back. She wiggled her arm that was stuck between them underneath the crook of his neck and she wrapped her other arm around his stomach. As she settled in against his back, she felt his muscles tense up, so she leaned over a bit and placed a kiss on the side of his neck and then another on his shoulder and then another right at the base of his neck, where she could feel the bony knob at start of his spine underneath her lips. She could feel him start to relax, his muscles loosening, as he covered her arm that was around his stomach with his. And when he took her hand in his and gave it a little squeeze, she knew that everything was ok.

She lifted her head back up and placed another kiss on his shoulder, leaving her lips there and smiling against his skin as he squeezed her hand again. She felt him begin to shift and she loosened her arms as he turned around to face her. He brought both his hands up to cradle her face. His calluses scratching against the soft skin of her cheeks. She lived for moments like this. Moments when he would soften in front of her, when he would handle her with this care you would never think he possessed at first glance.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times. She could tell that he wanted to say something, wanted to try to make everything right between them again. But she already felt like it was. So she told him, nodding her head and quietly whispering, "We're okay," as she looked into his eyes.

He nodded once, trying to convince himself more than her. "Ok." It came out gruff. Unfinished, like he wanted to say more, but couldn't.

So she smiled at him and just said it back, "Ok."

He leaned down to kiss her, still cradling her face in his hands. This kiss started out soft and pleading. As if he was still asking her to forgive him. So she kissed him back with everything she had, trying to convince him that they didn't need to talk about anything, this was all she needed. She slid her tongue against his and the kiss soon started devolving into something less controlled, messier. Her thoughts began to run together as she scooted her body closer to him, so that it was flush with his. She slid her hand up his side and grabbed his shoulder, holding onto him for dear life. Digging her fingertips into the hard muscle there. As he began to pull away, she captured his bottom lip between her teeth, giving it a gentle bite. He pulled away completely and rested his forehead against hers, keeping his eyes closed, stopping them before they got too carried away.

They would always fight. They had taken such different paths to get to where they were now, they wouldn't always see eye to eye. But as long as he came back to her at the end of the day and kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world, they would be ok.

A/N: Again, a huge THANK YOU to everyone who reviews, favorites, or follows. You all share a very special place in my heart. I try to respond to every review that I get, but just in case I accidentally skip over someone (and because I can't respond personally to guests) know that I am so happy that you enjoy this story! I know that these little snippets aren't super exciting or action-filled like a lot of the great ff on this website, but I feel like a Bethyl relationship would be really chill, low-key, and quiet when they had alone time. I'm just trying to stay as true to their characters as I can! So again, thanks for reading! Leave some love on the way out if you feel so inclined. Or hit me up on tumblr: thisismymorecolorfulmoniker. I love fangirling with other Bethylers there!