All I Ever Will Be

Chapter Eighteen - Return

Beth's palms were so sweaty that they were slipping off of the steering wheel as she swerved down the road, trying to regain control of her breathing. She was practically gasping and sort of laughing out loud to herself in disbelief that the run had gone so smoothly, despite her close encounter.

The voices had scared her shitless, but for a brief moment she considered turning around and going back to see if they'd belonged to anyone they'd known - Maggie, Glenn, Rick - but right now Daryl was her priority and she'd promised to make it back to him. The possibility of the distant voices being more bad news wasn't something Beth thought she could handle alone. Once Daryl was healed up, maybe they could go look again. She hadn't lost hope that her family was out there, but she wouldn't risk Daryl's life for it.

It caught her off guard a little bit, her determination to get back to Daryl. The will she felt in needing to care for him and make him well again, it was the only thing she could focus on. As she drove on, she started to feel uncertain about the safety of the home her and Daryl had found. How long would it really be before someone found them there?

The day was excruciating. Back at the house, Daryl had a lot of time to think. Way too much time. His senses were finally cleared now that he was off of the painkillers. He felt overwhelmingly ashamed that Beth was out there alone, fighting to stay alive just to help him. He'd been distracted with happiness and he'd made a stupid, life-threatening mistake. He was so frustrated. Beth deserved better. She deserved his protection and his diligence and he'd failed her on both accounts.

Beth. He couldn't stop thinking about her now that she wasn't with him. He'd been spoiled by the presence of her around him constantly, whether she was angry, happy or sad, her companionship was powerful. He'd underestimated her strength and determination - the tenacity of her was clear now and though he would never admit it, she kind of intimidated him. He didn't know what to do with her and he found himself wanting her in a way he hadn't wanted a woman in his entire life. The only thing he was certain about was that he didn't understand his feelings for her.

The feeling that he did recognize deep in himself was anger. Having to rely on someone else was hard for Daryl. He'd always taken care of himself - he never needed anyone to keep him safe. Beth was his saving grace and he just wasn't worthy. He sat in bed for a while, feeling hot and pissed off. He tried sleeping, but with the pain, anxiety and frustration he was completely restless.

Beth had left him a few things including old magazines from downstairs in case he got bored, so flipped through "Golf Digest" with one hand and ripped the pages out, crumpling them up into small balls and throwing them at the wall. When he was done with that, he took the pen she'd left him and drew mustaches and horns on a few of the others, chuckling to himself. He tried a crossword puzzle, but just ended up writing swear words in all of the boxes.

Once he'd finished, he decided to try to get out of bed which he immediately regretted. The pain was so intense he had trouble getting to the bathroom attached to the room he'd been staying in. It was one hell of a room though, the walls made from the same white pine wood as the rest of the house and the floor a glossy white marble. There was a shower to the left and in front of him a wide sink and massive mirror. He stared at himself, feeling unrecognizable. It had been a while since he'd really gotten a good look at his reflection.

He had always had a rough look about him, but he thought he almost looked animalistic at this point. His hair was overgrown and unruly, his beard growing in all different directions, gray peeking through. He'd noticed it at the prison, but sort of ignored it. It reminded him of his age. But age didn't matter anymore - staying alive, that's what mattered now.

He took his one good arm and brushed some of his hair away from his face. His features were still the same - his eyes, still the same piercing blue he'd known as a kid and his cheekbones high on his face. The skin from his fingers felt rough so he dropped them, realizing he was sweaty although he wasn't dressed in much clothing His stomach was sunken in as he looked down at himself and he knew it was from not eating properly for the last week. He turned then, wanting to see the damage to his back, but the mirror revealed carefully placed bandages and unwarranted butterflies erupted in his belly at the thought of Beth touching him.

And then, the sound of a motor came from the distance outside the house and Daryl spun around quickly to go towards the window, sucking in air as he did so. The pain associated with his movements were still taking some getting used to. Momentary panic set in as he saw the silver Mercedes slowly make its way up the driveway, the sun reflecting off the hood. As it came closer, he squinted to see only one, small shadow in the drivers seat. She was alone, and back so quickly. It must have meant good news.

Daryl knew Beth would want him in bed, but he just couldn't hide his eagerness at seeing her back so soon. He slowly made his way out of the bedroom and down the long stairs at the front of the house, fighting the pain that was shooting across his back and the fever that had settled in his body. He heard her pull the garage door open as he came down the stairs, wincing with every step.

Beth parked the car carefully, still relishing in the beauty of the interior. There were so few perfect things left, you had to appreciate the ones that were still around. She turned the car off, then stepped out to close the garage door behind the vehicle. Once it was secure, she went to get the gun and duffle bag from the car, feeling sort of normal - like she'd gone to pharmacy to get Daryl some Advil for his fever. It made her smile, despite the circumstances.

She walked inside, leaving the gun in the front room, laid up against the washing machine which had collected a layer of dust and came into the kitchen only to see Daryl standing in the middle of the room, looking at her sheepishly.

Quickly, she dropped the bag beside herself, smiling at him. Tears came despite her best intentions. She was so relieved to see him, though it had truly only been a few hours. Her anxiety and adrenaline was wearing off now and she ran to him quickly, stopping in front of him very carefully placing her arms on his shoulders, sliding them up his neck and to the sides of his face. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him and he grabbed her intently with his one arm as their lips crashed together. The feeling of wanting him was intensifying every time she kissed him.

"Hi," he whispered into the kiss and she smiled against his mouth. She opened her eyes, bringing her head back to look at him. "You're back," he said in a low voice. His eyes sparkled mischievously as he gave her a coy smile.

Beth grinned. She couldn't help herself. "You're up," she said, trying to scold him.

"I am," he said, his head still to the side, close enough that she could feel his breath on her lips with each word he spoke.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, falling back on her heels and narrowing her eyes at him.

He sighed. "Like shit," he admitted.

Beth nodded at him. "Upstairs," she commanded him.

His eyes opened wide and looked at her - as if he was asking if she was serious, so she took her index and pointed upwards firmly. "Go," she said. "I didn't go on that run for nothin'."

"Yes ma'am," he mumbled, turning on his heel and moving to walk upstairs. Beth put her chin to her shoulder and smiled to herself, then grabbed the bag filled with medicine and followed him upstairs.

Beth tended to Daryl's wounds again and fed him his first round of antibiotics which he gulped down eagerly. Then she opened some cans of soup, sticking in spoons from the kitchen, thinking she could heat them up but feeling so ravenous she decided not to. Daryl didn't mind, so they sat on the bed and inhaled the contents of the metal cans quickly, not speaking as they did so.

Daryl let out a sigh, the metal spoon clinking in the can, signaling he was finished. Beth sat cross-legged on the bed beside him, scooping out the remnants of her can. "Good?" she asked.

"Mmhm," Daryl responded, closing his eyes and leaning back into his pillows. "Thanks," he murmured, opening one eye to look at her. "For everything."

She shook her head. "Don't you thank me," she said. "Can't survive without you Daryl. I told you - I need you and anyway, I couldn't have done it without all the stuff you've been teachin' me."

Daryl inhaled deeply, looking away. If he could, it looked like he'd have crossed his arms, but instead he placed his one good arm across his belly. "Yeah well, I don't deserve it," he said quietly.

Beth narrowed her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

Daryl looked back at her. "Put you in danger is all!" he said angrily. "Don't ever wanna do that again." He stopped, then said, "Won't ever do that again."

Beth pursed her lips and took another bite of her cold soup, her heart feeling heavy. "Daryl," she said slowly. "It's okay to let people help you sometimes. Everyone needs someone."

Daryl shrugged, looking away, grunting incomprehensibly.

"Daryl?" Beth said, putting her empty can to the side. She placed her hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to look at her.

"Hmm?" he responded, looking everywhere but at her.

Beth reached out and pulled his chin towards her so he had no choice but to look at her. "Daryl, stop. It's no big deal."

"It is!" he said fiercely, almost pushing away from her. "You got no business runnin' around tryin' to save me and care for me."

"Why not?" Beth shrieked, surprised by her own anger. She didn't understand why he felt like he didn't deserve help. Why he didn't deserve good things. Why it was so hard for him to let her in. His reactions and perception of things made her frustrated with him, but also incredibly sad.

"'Cause," he said. "You deserve a good life - someone who takes care of you and knows how to be there for you. Who knows how to," he sighed deeply, thinking for a minute, "knows how to talk to you and tell you how they feel and shit."

Did he think she didn't want him? Was he worried he wasn't good enough for her? "Daryl," she said slowly, picking her words carefully. "You're one of the best things that's ever happened to me."

She let his eyes meet hers then, and she held his gaze unsure of how to make him really understand. She wanted him to get it so badly. It was love, or at least some form of it, but she wasn't ready to say that out loud for anyone to hear quite yet. Beth cared for everyone, truly and deeply, but this type of caring, these types of feelings - it was so intense and so very raw with Daryl.

"You don't mean that," Daryl scoffed, shaking his head.

"Yeah, I do." She went on. "You're not just good for huntin' and killin' Daryl. You're a good man. I told you that the other night. What are you so afraid of?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I dunno," he said and the silence following his words was deafening for a few seconds. "That all I'll ever be is who I was, I guess," he said. "The world's changed me - it's changed you - everyone, so now we're all just built to survive and that's it. That's all I know. Before all this I wasn't ever close to no-one - 'cept maybe Merle, but not like, in a romance sort of way." His face was flushed as he said it. "Just feel like I'm even further away from knowin' what the hell to do than I was before. I don't know how to do things like this right - with you. With us."

"There's no right way Daryl," Beth said, reaching for his hands. "You don't gotta do anythin' special for me, just be with me. I like being with you and talkin' to you and kissin' you," she said it straight to him, so he would really hear her. "Maybe it'll turn into somethin' else, maybe it won't - but…I like it. And I think you do too." She waited for him to react, and he looked up at her through his long hair, curiously so she kept going. "So don't you ever worry 'bout not knowin' what to do or bein' enough for me. You're more than enough for me. Always have been and I think you always will be."

She brought his large hand up to her mouth, kissing his knuckles, while she stared at him with wide eyes. He watched her delicate movements and she thought for a moment she saw a real sense of hope in his eyes.