Chapter 3: Maybe these wings are broken.

Beth's eyes snapped open in unison with a sharp inhale. Immediately at the center of her vision was a red bird, hopping along the high edge of the hammock gently swaying back and forth in a soft lull. Hand fisted at Daryl's rising and falling chest, she gulped. Eyes tracked the bird up and down as it chirped lightly, seemingly ignorant of the horrors on the surface below.

Liquid warmth solidified in nearly every space of her body, strengthening her unsteady heart and centerin' her focus from the dazzling daze of slumber. Beth's mouth twitched into a small smile. Blinking, she felt a wretched cramp along her back down to almost her knees. This hammock wasn't made for two. Now she knew why.

Craning her neck, Beth saw Daryl's face leanin' against the raised hammock sides. A wash of bright, warm sunlight hit her face, temporarily blinding her. The rustling treetops moved in the passing breeze, offering mild cover from the harsh sunlight just above them. When her eyes caught some shade, she saw him staring at her. Her smile nearly evaporated right off her face. A cord running from her toes to her brain pulled tight, muscles tightenin' and hands clenchin' more than she thought was possible.

"No…" she said, a low grumble distorting her vocal cords a bit. She shot up and reached for the nearby trunk.

Daryl stretched to grab her hand. "Beth?"

Snatchin' it back from him, she maneuvered through the branches down to the trunk's opening. Yanking on the thick rope, she claimed the large green duffle bag.

Refocus, regroup, reimagine .

Large hands grasped at her shoulders, but she shied out of 'em. Another person entered into her brain, switchin' some sort a' autopilot mode or something. Beth remained diligent in her effort to gettin' the bag over her shoulders toward the ground. The bag's weight was largely ignored, save the misstep on a weak branch, which broke as soon as he foot landed on it. She quickly recovered and stumbled to her knees on the ground. The impact jerked her knees in an unfamiliar, disjointed way, but she was all right.

Almost a second after her landin', Daryl stuck his own landin' with a bit more finesse. Nearing her made her look at her trembling hands, which busied with fumbling with the bag's zipper.

"Beth?" Daryl repeated, the word brimming with choked emotion uncharacteristic to him. His voice was all scratchy and a bit too rough. Under no circumstances would Beth look up at Daryl. She couldn't afford to. His shakin' hands caught her from behind, dragging her heavy, limp body up with him. He said her name again, and gripped her tighter when her ear was next to his mouth. His chest was quakin' something awful. "Don't pull away from me, girl," he said, the words no more than a whisper.

"I ain't pullin' away from you, Daryl!"

He didn't let her go. "Then what the fuck do you call what you're doin'?"

"Nothin's right anymore. I just need some space," she said, her shoulder wigglin' in attempt to get away from him.

"AHHH!"

Beth jerked behind a car, stumblin' down onto her bum and tremblin' something awful. No food for the last four days. Only rain water to drink yesterday. The fever finally gone. Beth had no weapon, and could hardly stand. The car was unlocked, so she slipped in the passenger side front door with ease as the shrieks persisted. Yankin' the door closed, she saw the vehicle had all manual locks. She locked every door that was unlocked.

A flashlight pointed at her, glarin' from the window's glass a bit. Beth panicked. Find Daryl. Survive. Go to Virginia . That was her plan – the only plan. He wouldn't a' left her behind if he thought she survived. Beth needed to believe that. It fed her when food couldn't.

He steeled his arms until she slowed her efforts. His arms didn't hurt. They were just a' prison. "I said Carol meant nothin'," Daryl said, mouth pressed into her hair near her ear. He swallowed so loudly.

Beth stilled, lookin' around the ground around them. Her shoulders expanded and contracted wildly as she tries to control her breathing – to little avail. "Let go of me, Daryl…"

The woman banged on the door. "Let me in! I got food."

She was observant. Most a' the time, observant meant dangerous.

Least lately, anyway.

Beth stared at her, partially weak from today's hike through the herd. Her ribs were damaged in some way. Her head had been kicked around, too.

Her wrist was sprained, walker done stepped on it and fell on it. It'd lain beside her for a few moments, findin' itself also trapped by the forward movin' stampede.

Beth had to find him. Findin' him was impossible if she died now. Maybe God had spared her. Maybe her daddy had stopped her from enterin' heaven. Didn't matter. She survived, and she was hell bent on findin' her only family still alive.

He eased his arms from around her, slowly. Beth struggled against his body until she dropped to the ground on her hands and knees near the bag. Eyes closed, she struggled to contain herself, her body threatening to burst any instant from an enduring pressure dwelling within her chest. It was heavy, but hollow.

The lady said somethin', but the words were distorted. She was so damn tired…

A part of Beth thought to open the door, but words mixed in with the dark temptation she'd likely seal her ticket to hell. This woman had food. The dead didn't eat food. The dead didn't need no damn flashlight. Beth's eyes rose, findin' the woman's large, overstuffed backpack.

The wind whirled around them, but didn't exactly drown out his footsteps behind her. He paced for a few moments until she heard him speed up and end up a few inches away. Daryl fell onto his knees, landin' on a few displaced twigs, leaves, and stones. He didn't flinch. His breathin' matched her own, deep, staggering, and shaky. "Beth, I ain't ever let you go."

"Daryl," Beth said, whirlin' to meet his curtained hues. "I've been searchin' for months for a way to feel…anything…again." She leaned back, fallin' to sit on her rear near the trunk of the tree. Tears glossed her gaze, but she swallowed it down to feed back into her heart. "I kept runnin' like you told me at the church. I ain't ever stopped."

Pale, diminished eyes never left the woman as the walkers tore apart her body. She didn't shy away after the terrifyin' wails, the latch of pain that kicked her in her own gut. Beth didn't even cry when the last words the woman shouted were You killed me. You did this!

When dawn hit, Beth slipped out a' the car, nearly crawlin' to the opposite side a' it. The walkers had moved on, but the woman's body wasn't there. She'd been changed. Likely still lurkin' 'round, possibly long gone.

Didn't matter.

Her backpack was Beth's now.

Daryl reached for her face, but Beth pushed her body back until she hit the trunk. "Findin' you was my only plan, Daryl! I lost who I was to find you. I wanted to feel alive again when I finally saw you." She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the tree. "I'm supposed to be in college, Daryl...I could be headin' the my mornin' English class." Her eyes fixed on him again. "Instead, I've become someone I can't recognize."

"Beth, you're still you."

" No! " she shouted. She sniffled. "I ain't. That's the whole damn point! I haven't stopped one time to think about the things I've done, Daryl. Until this mornin', I was going through the motions with my brain switched off."

"You're alive."

Eyes rolling, Beth scoffed. "Hardly livin', Daryl."

Leaves scrambled along the forest floor when the wind picked up. The trees whispered to each other. Crickets and chirpin' birds sounded in every direction. In the distance, Beth swore a creek ran. He stayed on his knees, unmoving. He just looked at her. "I showed you hope in findin' good in others, Daryl."

The crouched man swallowed. "You sure did, girl."

Beth's eyes caved to the heavy tears dwellin'. "I need your help in findin' some good in me."

"The wall is right there…" Daryl huffed, dropping the bag on the ground. His turn had just cycled to him.

Beth bit her lip. She wasn't above draggin' the damn bag at this point. "Still a long walk 'round."

Eyes narrowed, he lifted his arm toward her, finger pointin' until he made a fist. "Hush, you."

Boots diggin' in the ground, Beth's legs strained, shakin' as she stood in place. Her whole body hurt. More importantly, sweat drenched all over, seeping slowly in the large bandages across her back. Changin' 'em would be a pain…would probably need help. Who to ask was a largely frightenin' problem, though.

Drat.

"Daryl, we can rest here," she said, walking to the bag and casually unzipping it. Searchin', Beth reached around for a bit until she felt the gallon-sized ziplock. Thank the lord for the plastic bags coverin' up the contents within it. She pulled on the bag and set it on the ground, shruggin' off her pack.

"What's in the bag?" he asked, chest heavin'.

Meeting his eyes, Beth tried to school her features into some kind a' casual expression. "Personal stuff."

His brow rose. "Personal stuff?"

"Yep," she answered. Reaching for the bag, Beth saw a hand swipe the filled plastic bag from the ground. Eyes snappin' up, Beth saw Carl holding the bag near his head.

"What do we have here?" Carl said, his grin reachin' up to his eye. He lifted his brows suggestively. "Drugs, perhaps?"

"Why would it be drugs?" Carol asked from behind them.

Beth focused on Carl. "Give that back," she said. "Please."

Carl instead opened the bag and reached in, smile fallin' quickly when he pulled a tube a' Neosporin out. He lowered the bag and likely saw the other many tubes of the stuff. "Not drugs," he said, words small and weak. He inspected the tube when Beth rolled her eyes and snatched the bag away from him. "Why do you need so much a' this?"

Pale blue eyes regarded Carl, who appeared so much older than she'd last seen him. Tuckin' away the ziplock into her backpack, she moved to the duffle bag and zipped it up. "Carl, take me to Judith?"

The teen sent her a funny look, still holdin' onto the Neosporin. His bandaged over one side of his face did little to hide his confusion. "Uhh…"

Sweat beaded down her forehead. Swallowing, Beth turned to Daryl, saying, "When you get this in there, don't let anyone open it up. I still have a few things I need from it." Carol stepped closer toward the three of them, closer to Carl. "I don't want it taken by the others."

"Girl, where ya goin'?" Daryl asked as Beth grabbed Carl and walked away from them.

Beth didn't look back. Changin' the bandages took priority. Carl easily caught up with her. They walked along the outer wall of Alexandria in mostly silence until the rounded the far corner, seein' the front gate in the distance.

"Are you gonna tell me what we're really doin'?"

Beth looked over to him. "I got this tattoo."

His eyes twitched. "Yeah? I know. Remember?" He held an ax in his hand and still clutched the tube. Weren't no walkers around, Beth noticed.

Laughter just beyond the wall distracted her, but eventually, she amended. "On my back. It's on the verge a' gettin' infected. Bandages need changin', but I can't really do it by myself."

His features lit up. "You have another one?"

Nodding, Beth looked down, stoppin' as she reached for his elbow. "Carl, you can't tell anyone about it, though. No one can know about this."

"What is it?"

Beth bit her lip, bringing her thumbnail to her lips and immediately throwing it away, tasting copper and dirt. "Carl."

He held his hands up. "Promise!"

Waitin' in Carl's room in the quiet brought the voices back, but at least they were incoherent. For now. The room was littered with clutter and décor. Livin' like the world hadn't gone to shit could easily seduce her.

If only she weren't so aware of what was out there

Gulping, Beth slid out a' her plaid shirt and used the small mirror on the desk to help unravel the bandages around her torso. Finally at the last layer, Beth stopped the gauze wrap, gruntin' louder than she would a' like to. The gauze was clingin' to her skin, a cocktail of blood, puss, and sweat dried together in a pungent adhesive stick. Eyes waterin', Beth gritted her teeth together and closed her eyes as she used enough force to peel it back the rest of the way. Getting' it wet wouldn't help none. Becker had made that clear.

Lookin' 'round, she saw a towel at the foot of Carl's bed. In her pack, she had a trash bag, which she deposited all the dirtied bandages in. Exposed to the air's sting, her back felt cold, stingin' all along her spine. She clutched her shirt to her front, coverin' her chest in case anybody walks in on her in this state. Not once did she use the mirror to catch a glimpse of the large tattoo crossin' from her shoulders down to her waist.

The door sprang open. When Beth checked it, she saw Michonne holdin' Carl's collar. "I knew something wasn't right the moment I saw him raiding our medical supplies." She sighed.

"Sorry, Beth!" Carl hollered as Michonne threw him from the room.

The softness in the woman's eyes from last night was gone. Beth fell back to old habits. She was intimidated by this woman – just like sometimes back at the prison. Breath shaky, Beth backed away from Michonne. "I can do this by myself."

"Like hell you can," Michonne's smooth voice sliced through any resolve Beth had left in an instant. She whipped her hands around Beth's shoulders and spun her around. "I could smell this from outside." Her hands withdrew. "Lie down. We'll get you cleaned up."

Michonne sat at the edge of the bed, gently pattin' the last section of Beth's back. The peroxide stung, remnants burnin' deep in the abrasions across her back. Dried tears weighed her lashes down, making blinkin' somewhat a struggle. The smell was gone.

"It's actually not too bad once all the dried blood and pus are gone," Michonne quietly said. "I don't think this should cause you any worry."

Beth swallowed, hand fisting the blanket near her mouth. "Good."

"Why the wings?"

Beth sealed her lids shut. "I was drunk. I don't know."

"Drunk?" Michonne chuckled lightly. It was forced. Beth could just sense it. "Was it your first time?"

"No," she answered immediately. "Moonshine with Daryl after the prison."

"Ah."

"Becker did it the night before he got bit. I drew a crappy mock up, and he made it come to life…from what I can remember that night."

"I see."

"He got me drunk, so he could kill himself."

"Hmm…"

"Couldn't do it, so he got himself bit while I was out cold."

Michonne sighed, utterly calm.

"I wouldn't a' let him otherwise."

"You can't save someone who wants to die."

Beth opened her eyes. Sniffling, she looked at herself in the small mirror. "It ain't about savin' him. I just couldn't be alone anymore." You're one selfish person, Beth Greene. "That's all it was."

That's what you want me to say, huh?

"How long ago?"

"The day before I found Alexandria."

You're not selfish, Beth. You're a fighter. A survivor.

"That recent?" Michonne softly asked, pressin' a moist, warm cloth over a spot on her lower back.

"I don't like who I am anymore. I don't even know…"

Michonne moved her hand, patting another area.

"Daddy would hate me so much," Beth whispered.

"Now I know you're joking," the woman said, her tone emboldened with conviction Beth hadn't heard in such a long time.

Beth hissed as Michonne covered the center of her back, where it was the worst. "Perhaps."

The cloth lifted from her back, and Michonne moved to sit down on the floor in front of Beth. Their eyes met. "I'm not sure how much you know about me, but I was where you are when all this started. I took time to find something inside me to fight – for myself," she whispered. Shaking her head, her eyes narrowed. "I spent way too long zoned out."

The subject wore her out. It just led to more confusion and horrific realizations. "You and Rick?"

Michonne's features didn't change. Her expression remained quite peaceful. "What about it?"

"Do you think you found a way to be happy?"

"I think I have," Michonne answered, her eyes shifting somewhat. "It's been a while since I've talked to anyone about girl stuff." That was it – the end of that conversation.

Beth didn't say anything else. She allowed silence to creep over them. Michonne held up her finger for a moment until she stood up and left the room. Beth hummed the few minutes the woman was gone – until Michonne returned with a somewhat faded cobalt blue vest – looked like a breathable, but thick material. The woman glanced down at it. "Its… not my color." Scrunching her features, she rose one brow. "Or my size."

"Where's the rest of it?"

Michonne smiled. "Oh, come on…it'll be the perfect shape for when I bandage you back up. I want it to heal properly, so we'll construct the bandages to have a similar shape." She tilted her head to the side. "The white bandages might peek out a hair, but it's the perfect solution for now."

"I'd prefer my plaid shirt."

"It needs a good washing, Beth."

Beth bit her lip. "I don't like it…"

Michonne lowered her hand holding the vest down by her side. "Oh…"

Swallowin', Beth sighed. "I don't like it when people look at me funny."

Setting the vest on the dresser nearby, Michonne's features darkened. "Did someone hurt you, Beth?"

Lyin' there, Beth felt the hands all over her again. Closing her eyes helped block out the invisible fingerprints. "No…not the way they wanted to, maybe."

I'm laying here dying, Beth. You got to promise me this.

The older woman swallowed, kneeling in front of her. Her warm hands brushed Beth's loose hair. "Beth?"

Becker shivered. He didn't have long. "Promise me you won't die no damn virgin!"

"Why does it matter?"

Becker labored, attemptin' to chuckle, she supposed. "You may be living on for me. I have a reputation to protect – even in the afterlife."

"It ain't ever get that far," Beth conceded.

Michonne swallowed and withdrew her hands, nodding a few times. "Are they dead?"

"They're long gone, Michonne. I took care of 'em."

"Good," she replied, eyes glazing over.

Snifflin', Beth looked over at the vest. "You got anything I can wear underneath it?"

"Beth, I'm so sorry!" Carl said as she exited into the livin' room. He paused, looking at her. "You look better than you sounded in there."

Michonne lightly shoved at his shoulder. "You were listening?"

Hands up, Carl shook his head. "I only heard her in pain. I swear."

"Mhm," Michonne answered. Turning to Beth, she lifted her brow. "No physical activity for a few days. Come see me every morning. We'll change those out with fresh bandages. Kay?" Beth nodded. Michonne tilted her head toward the front door. "Let's head back."

Carl and Beth idly chatted about nothing. It was nice, to be honest. She forgot how mundane superficial conversations were. As they approached the center of the compound, they all saw a small crowd circled around something. Dread pinched Beth's core. Throat clenchin', she bolted down the small hill.

Weaving through the gathered people, Beth made it to the front, seeing the bag wide open and the steel box broken, exposed. A small girl rushed forward toward a small teddy bear, pickin' it up and hugging it real tight. A jar of thirteen marbles rolled away from the steel box toward an adult she didn't recognize's feet. A picture frame landed near her own feet. Someone was throwin' this stuff around.

Like it didn't even matter.

Beth lurched forward toward the bag after collectin' the frame on the ground, now cracked from its impact onto the cement. Pale eyes rose from the bag to the body hovering over it.

" Maggie! " she shouted, echoes rippling through the entire area. She had her hands on the crinkled, worn brown paper bag. Beth's hands ripped it from her sister's, but the bag broke underneath the stress, revealin' a four foot bloodied IV tube and a pair of glasses.

I'll drain you for every drop your worth, girl.

Static whirled around her ears. The voices crept through it, though. A deep, menacing one sliced through all the loud ones. Although quiet, it hurt the most. His knife trailed her skin, shaving away her arm hair all over again. Whispers twisted her stomach inside out. Dead bodies littered the ground all around her as the outside faded away behind the thick, impenetrable laboratory walls. A little girl's breathing cut through the piercing silence. No more than seven, she was naked, skinned in some places, and dying: slowly.

As long as Beth held Glasses' attention, that wouldn't be her. Until another girl came into the picture, she wouldn't become his trophy. Instead, she was on the operatin' table all over again, hooked up to IV and and intoxicated on some sort a' sedative. The more blood leavin' her body, the more fuzziness infiltrates her vision. The feelin' in her fingertips thins, almost gone. They tingled, only painfully.

Glasses' trophy fooled her. Had led her here for whatever reason. Beth might be dyin', and there ain't nothin' to do except lay and take it. Her naked body was cold against the metal. Suddenly, the knife moved from her arm to her ear, digging in until the pressure turned to pain. The muff over her mouth drowned her screamin'.

Hands. On her. Restraints, easing pressure. Gunshot. Grunting. Warm hands. Sunlight.

She woke back up in the cell, the doctor across from hers in a separate one. Only one light per cells offered any visibility amongst the darkness. They'd been caught. In the light, she saw his left leg broken, disfigured. His lab coat clung to his mangled body.

Someone entered. A bulky wall of a man. Introduced himself as Haas. Hog? Hawk? Ringin' in her ears sounded, distractin' her. She thought he said she'd recovered.

Only hours left…

She woke back up, the cell untouched. Food in the far right corner. Also untouched. She was dressed. A knife sat idle by her feet. God, she felt so light, weak. Standin' was so hard, so she stopped tryin' after only ten seconds.

You'll kill his sorry ass or die trying.

"Beth!" Maggie shouted, pulling her from the flash. Her sister was so close, her hands clutching onto her body. Pulling her closer toward her, Maggie continued saying her name.

When Beth lowered her face, she saw Maggie held the IV tube in one hands and the glasses in the other. Control. Needed.

Beth closed her eyes, her steady inhale smoothing out the downward spiral within. The sunlight was sharp in her eyes when she opened 'em. Her hands reached for the items, gently clutchin' onto 'em and tugging them away from Maggie.

"Why did you do this?"

Maggie lifted her hands to Beth's jaw. "I need my sister back." Her shoulders rocked. Tears spilled from her eyes. Her hands trembled. "Come back to me, please! "

Beth carried her sister's heavy gaze with ease. She didn't try to shove her away, neither. She stood tall in front of all the naive residents of Alexandria. Maggie repeated her name a few times more, pleadin' for her to come back to her.

Why did everyone need somethin' from her? When would she be the one takin'? Where on Earth was Daryl?

Lookin' around, she easily found him in the large crowd. He glanced down at a gun close to where Maggie previously sat. It all clicked. Maggie wanted to force Beth out a' her stupor. On Maggie's terms.

"Help me put all this back," Beth stoically said. She withdrew from her sister and bent, placin' the frame in the metal box. She moved to the small girl, stealing the bear back and scooped up the marbles jar. Wordlessly.

Maggie didn't budge, but that was okay.

Beth stepped closer to Daryl, handin' him the glasses and bloodied tube. He took it without question. The metal box had all the items. Daryl carried her trophies.

All was well. For now.

Rick eased up to the front of the group. "Beth?" His clothes were crooked, loose, and askew. He glanced over to Michonne. So did Beth. Her eyes were low on Rick, likely at his chest-level. It didn't take genius to work out what Rick had been doin'.

Ain't her business, though.

"Everythin' in the bag is free game except black plastic bag," she told Rick, finally looking back on her. Beth bent down and sifted quickly through the bag, findin' the said bag. Withdrawin' it, she held it out to Daryl. He took it without lookin' inside. Facing Daryl, Beth asked, "Cemetery?"

He leaned his head, and Beth followed his lead.

Dusk set low on the horizon. A fire in a barrel was the area's light. Daryl wiped his forehead of the thick layer of sweat, throwin' the shovel to the side. The hole finally covered, Beth glanced down at the sign she'd carved in a piece of spare plywood with a spare knife blade.

She stood up and moved to the plot, stickin' the plywood in the ground against a crate.

I'm sorry you met me.

Daryl stared at her. The fire and the wanin' daylight made his features dance darkly in the fire's flicker.

Beth set her eyes on him. "Seventeen people. Only nine mementos to bury. I'm layin' 'em to rest."

"You kill 'em?"

"In one way or 'nother."

He swallowed. He dropped his gaze and huffed, eyes lookin' at her makeshift headstone. "Why'd you do it?" Her silence earned his attention back on her. Her shoulders sagged with her exhale, which distracted him somewhat. From what, she didn't know.

"You know."

The fire's orange flame snapped, castin' shadows and illuminatin' different parts of his face. His bangs were over his eyes. Despite all the barriers hiding him, Beth saw his dark blue eyes shine over. He tried coughin', but it sounded more like a groan. She noticed his fingers twitchin' slightly. He slouched back in his claimed lawn chair. Thumbnail movin' to his lips, he exhaled and bit down. His hand balled, shakin' as he moved it to rest on the arm chair again.

"Oh."

Beth swallowed. "I need you to do somethin' for me."

"Anything."

"I need you to burn the tube and glasses for me."

Daryl sat there looking right at her. Clearing his throat, he nodded once, barely. "What'd he do to ya?"

"Wanted my blood," she said, convinced she'd stop there. Daryl grunted, standin' up and dragging his chair closer to her till he was close enough to take her hand.

"Tell me what really happened."

Beth tried to move away from him, but he kept her there, pushing her like he used to. His eyes never broke away from hers. Beth's brows dipped, twitchin' and jaw jutting forward. "He did want my blood," she started. Exhalin', she continued. "His original intent, though, was ta…to…" Her fingers curled over his calloused hand. "…and to kill me."

"Did…" Daryl clutched his other hand on her hand, liftin' it to his chin, her fingers lightly trailing his lips. "Did he hurt ya?"

Beth fought back the pain, shakin' her head. "Minor bruises and cuts. Drugged me to keep me docile. Wanted me for my blood once he saw my aged bite mark. Thought I could be the cure to all a' this."

"Did you kill him?"

"In some ways," she immediately answered. Her eyes flashed to the tube and glasses. "That's what I need you to do."

Daryl seemed to make the connection, meanin' shifting into place in his mind. "Let's kill this son 'a bitch."

A strong pull hoisted her up. He let go of her with only one a' his hands, the other reachin' for the items near them on a small crate. Daryl led them to the fire pit, checkin' over his shoulder to make sure she watched him. She nodded once, and he threw the articles into the ragin' fire. He tugged her in front of him, wrappin' his arm around her front, settlin' over her collar bones under her chin. His hand curled over the bite mark gently, thumb brushing up and down.

Standing behind her, he lifted his free hand and jutted his middle finger out in front a' them. Beth leaned her head back, not even fightin' the tears that spilled quietly. She stared at the fire and lifted her hand, flickin' it off.

Her arm ached after a minute, but they stood there like idiots to the rest a' the world, arms stretched out in front of them. Daryl's arms were her shelter. This was home. For the first time in a very long time, Beth could taste happiness looming on the horizon. After a few moments, they let their hands fall to their sides. Beth's hands rose to grip onto his hard, rigid arm holdin' onto her tight.

"Ain't nobody gonna hurt ya anymore."

Beth almost believed it. "Shouldn't make promises you can't keep."

"I ain't no liar, girl."

"You're also not God. You have no power over what happens."

Daryl scoffed. "Then do me a favor…"

Beth turned her head, eyes matched right up to his nose. So close . Her throat clenched, tightenin' beyond her control. His eyes flickered lower to her mouth, but quickly snapped back to her own gaze. With his free hand, he smoothed her hair near her forehead and leaned over, lips raisin' to press against her skin above her brows.

"Don't leave my sight again."