"In came the girl with the saddened eyes
And asked him over again and again
'Was I too weak? Was I a child?'
And 'can't we leave here and start again?'
And 'I love you.'"
-PJ Harvey
…
She used to fantasize about her wedding.
Beth doesn't know how many days she'd spent obsessing over every last detail, lost in the typical little girl's daydream.
Her momma's veil would be her 'something borrowed' and the sapphire heart pendant her grandma Mae inherited her would be her 'something blue' and the simple silver bracelet Maggie'd gifted her for her thirteenth birthday would be her 'something old'. Patricia had pulled her aside once and promised she had the perfect accessory to gift her for the 'something new' component, and while Beth had no clue what it could be, she knew the kind woman would never disappoint. She'd carry a piece of the women who meant the most to her, the tough and kind and passionate women who'd helped shape her, on the most important day of her life.
The ceremony would take place in the little town church in Senoia were her own parents had gotten married. Her daddy would look dapper in his new tux as he took her hand in his and walked her down the aisle and her momma would cry from her own spot in the front row as she watched her youngest child swear an oath to love a man until the end of time. Shawn would sit beside their mother, who would flick the back of his head when she caught him trying to flirt with the other bridesmaids instead of paying attention to the ceremony. Her sister would stand by the altar as her maid of honor, wearing a lilac dress and holding a small bouquet of white and pink calla lilies as her groom waited patiently for her to arrive.
She could never pinpoint exactly what he would look like, but she knew what she wanted.
Her future husband would stand tall and proud. He'd be handsome and loving, with a kind smile always present on his face. Ideally, he'd belong to a good family and he'd buy them a nice home where they'd one day raise their own children. More importantly, he would always encourage and respect her decisions. He would not belittle her or treat her like a child. He would appreciate her the way every living being deserved and he would never even think of laying a finger on her. He would know how to play the guitar and she'd sing and write songs and they'd be surrounded by music and love.
Her life would be perfect.
…
She doesn't factor in accidents and the echoing emptiness.
Never even stops to consider that maybe her mother, the single person she loved most in the world, would be ripped out of her life right after she'd turned sixteen. Can't even begin to picture a world in which her older brother, who was bright and witty and charming – the perfect embodiment of a 'golden boy' in a small town – being taken away at the same time. Doesn't think that maybe her sister would be gone soon after or that her father would focus on his faith at right about the same time that she lost hers.
Beth never, even in her wildest dreams, ponders the possibility of falling for a surly redneck with an infamous reputation that doubled her age.
But she does.
Oh, God, she does.
…
She must be crazy.
Beth knows what she's doing is technically insane. She's only known this man, because there's nothing else he could be labeled as, for a little over two months but she feels deep in her heart that he's the person she's supposed to be with. It doesn't matter that he's older and hardened and that the majority of the people in town look at him like he's a menace to society. It doesn't matter that his family history is filled with vicious blotches or that he doesn't have a whole lot of money or that people will never stop judging and gossiping about them.
Because she knows him.
She knows that underneath the brusque exterior he's one of the best people she's ever met. She knows that he can be kind and loving and self-less. He's strong and he's brave and loyal to a fault. Daryl listens to all her rambles and musings and even though she's sure he thinks she's lost it with some of her observations he never demeans her or makes her feel like she's just a stupid girl. He looks at her like she's the most beautiful woman he's ever seen and when he touches her he's always tender and gentle; reverent, even.
With Daryl she experiences a freedom and passion that she'd never felt before. He makes her feel like she's flowing away and being anchored at the same time: alive. He is solid and experienced where she is soft and innocent, but the result is a perfect balance that allowed him to guide her into discovering and accepting her own needs and sexuality. His seriousness and care gave her the boost of confidence she'd needed to explore and thrive on the parts of herself that had lain dormant for so long she'd nearly forgotten how they felt.
A blush spreads across her cheeks as she remembers their last encounter and how he'd taken control of her body, bending her over on his mattress and pinning her down as he slammed into her after she'd taken him in her mouth for the first time.
She'd been so upset that night; tired of her family spitting accusations about her lover and of her father keeping her holed up in the farm like a little girl. They didn't know Daryl the way she did and were judging him based only on rumors and word of mouth. Beth knows that if they would only give him half a chance they'd see what an amazing man he really was. They needed time to get to know him, but it would take something drastic for her family to start seeing sense.
Which is why she'd packed a duffel bag the previous night, throwing in enough clothes for a couple of days and all the mementos that held the most meaning to her. The majority were pictures and a couple of frames; her toothbrush and the plaid shirt she'd borrowed from him on a particularly memorable night in which her own blouse had been torn. The journal where she wrote down her songs was in there, too, as well as the porcelain jewelry box with the hand-painted swans on the front and the golden latch her mother once gifted her when she was just a little girl.
Beth had been waiting for the chance to slip off the farm the entire week, and the perfect opportunity presented itself when her father was asked to attend as a guest speaker at veterinary conference in Atlanta. Her sister was set to return to work at the firm, as well, having suddenly left with half-muttered explanations about going back home to try and talk some sense into her little sister. They'd both parted together right after sunrise, with Otis and Patricia left in charge of watching after the wayward blonde. It'd taken a lot of begging and pleading from her part, but the older woman finally relented and allowed Beth to leave, handing over the keys to her truck and the opportunity to find freedom and love.
And now she was standing in front of his door while the sun began to set, holding a half-empty bag and with nothing to offer but her heart and soul, waiting for him to welcome her home.
The door opens before she can even pull out the key he'd given her or knock, and then Daryl is staring her down and glaring through slanted eyes.
"What are ya doin' here?"
Beth's taken aback by the bluntness of his voice, but decides to shake it off. He's never been one to mince words and she doesn't have a reason to be worried about him being upset with her. For all she knows he's had a bad day, and so she smiles at him and says, "I'm here to stay."
"What the fuck are you talkin' about?" he demands, gaze tracing over her only to land on the black bag resting by her feet before grabbing onto her wrist and pulling her into his home. The door slams shut and he takes a step back from her. He looks angrier than she's ever seen him, but it doesn't scare her because he's never given her a reason to fear him.
"If I stay there they'll never let us be together," she tries to explain, scrunching her nose as it's hit with the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and whisky. "I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you and that life starts right now."
"You shouldn't have done that," he grunts, clenching his fists and looking away from her. His hair is dirty and his clothes are wrinkled like he hasn't changed them in the past couple of days and Beth wonders how much he's had to drink since she's been gone. She doesn't recognize this side of him; angry and bitter and unrelenting. "You ain't got no business making decisions for me, and I sure as hell don't remember asking ya to move in."
The words hit her like a bullet in the back.
"Daryl?" she questions him, voice trembling as she tries to move closer to him. He lifts up his hands to halt her steps, and when she blinks her eyes she realizes that they're watering and tears are threatening to spill.
Daryl must have noticed them, too, because he shakes his head and moves even farther away from her. He grabs for the abandoned bottle of Jack resting on the coffee table, taking a swig before speaking to her again. "Nah, don't even start with them sad eyes and tears; I never promised ya shit."
"Why are you being like this?" she whispers, leaning against the door for physical support. She feels like she's in a nightmare and no matter how hard she pinches herself it will never end. This isn't the man she loves, but it's the one she's facing right now.
"Like what?" he retorts, and his tone drops to a drawl. Whatever he's about to say, she's willing to bet her soul that it's been designed to hurt her in the most intimate way he can think of. "Like a fucking grown-ass man that's been done putting up with all your drama and little girl fantasies?"
Look at that, she was right.
Beth curls her fingers into fists, not even bothering to try and stop the tear tracks that burn as they run down her cheeks. "You don't mean that," she shakes her head, pushing against his hold until she's shoving at his shoulders. "You can't treat somebody the way you've been treatin' me all this time and then just decide to change your mind!"
Daryl grabs onto her wrists, pulling her close enough to feel his harsh breath fanning the side of her temple. "Jesus Christ, girl," he scoffs, staring at her with an emotion that's somewhere between confusion and disgust. "You think what we did was me taking care of ya? Just 'cause I made sure you'd cum, too, don't mean I was interested in forever; was just me showin' a lil' common curtesy after ya went and offered yourself up to me like that."
She snaps her eyes shut at the crude remarks, refusing to open them until he can promise her that he's done with whatever sick game he must be playing. "Why are you doing this, Daryl? Why would you tell me something like that? What happened that made you change your mind?"
"I was gonna break it to ya gently, give you a chance to settle down and even put up with the crying and all that shit," he offers as an explanation, and she hates the grin that forms on the corner of his lips. "Then you drop in outta nowhere claiming you're gonna start living here. Figured ya'd need to hear the whole truth if I was gonna get ya to understand."
"You're lying," she breathes out, staring at him with all the conviction that's left in her heart. Her voice breaks as she speaks but Beth is determined to get everything out and fight for him. She doesn't know what caused this, but she won't let it go without trying her best to prove him wrong. "You can't fake the way you looked at me. You can't pretend to care about someone the way I know you care about me; the way I know you love me."
Daryl lets go of her hands, turning away from her as if he couldn't stand to even look at her any longer. "I ain't never loved no one in my life, ain't about to start with you."
Beth presses herself against his back, wrapping her thin arms around his waist and locking them together. "I love you, Daryl. I love you with everything that I've got," she swears, lowering her head so that her temples rest on his broad shoulders and holding on tight when he tenses under her touch.
"What ya want from me, girl?" he demands, tearing himself away from her with a force that almost makes her fall on her behind. He rotates so that he's facing her again and the fury she sees reflected on his face, his disbelief over her perseverance and disposition, is enough to ignite her own.
"I want you to stop pretending like you don't care, like nothing we went through matters to you!"
"Ya didn't mean a thing to me."
"That's bullshit!"
"That what ya think?"
"That's what I know."
"You don't know nothin'," he taunts, and the little sardonic laugh that crawls its way out of his lips is enough to leave her feeling frozen in place as she waits for the next figurative blow. "Jesus, we fuck around for a few weeks and it's like ya think that means I gotta shack up with ya. It was fun, sweetheart, but it's done now."
"Don't say that," she demands, running the sleeve of her shirt against her face to clear away the tears that make her vision blurry and pleading out a pathetic, "stop."
"Then stop acting like some dumb bitch and get the fucking message. I ain't never gonna marry you. I don't wanna have no damn kids with ya."
There's a brief pause, a moment between his cruel words and she hopes against hope that this glimmer of time will be the one in which he regains his senses and realizes how much hurt he's causing her. She wishes and hopes and prays that the man she loves will return and vanish this intruder who has his face but not his compassion and soul.
"Fuck, ya best believe the day I have a fucking brat it ain't gonna be with some little girl who's still crying over her dead momma and slits her wrists for attention. Do us both a favor and fly the fuck out of this town, songbird."
That's the end of it all.
It's too much.
His words are brutal and spiteful and ruthless and they run through her like poison being pumped into her trembling body. She feels violated and betrayed and confused over how this man could take all her darkest secrets, the memories and regrets she'd whispered to him in confidence, and coil them into a weapon on a whim. Everything ceases to matter and Beth doesn't care anymore.
She thinks she catches a flash of regret on his face at her obvious heartbreak, but it doesn't matter.
She's done.
It wouldn't make a difference if he decided to tell her his reason and motivations for acting the way he just had. For the first time since she met him she doesn't want to hear a single word from him. No reasons or excuses or pretenses are left for her to understand.
Beth clears her throat, tucking her disheveled hair into place and trying her best to clean her face. She takes a deep breath that seeps right through her bones, gathering as much dignity as she can muster before slowly turning around and promising herself she'd never come back.
She picks up her discarded bag and is halfway out the door when she stops for a second. Beth looks over her shoulder, watches as the only man she's ever been in love with breaks her heart for the second time in her life.
"You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl Dixon."
Then she steps outside and the door slams shut.
…
Beth doesn't cry during the drive back to the farm.
She'd already cried all the tears she had for him, back in his home and in front of his face for him to relish in. Years of promising herself she'd never let anyone get so close are thrown out the window and she wants to scream until her lungs burn and her throat is sore. Beth wants to hit something or run until her body is exhausted and depleted and she can fall into the deepest sleep she's ever experienced.
Anything; she'd take anything that even hinted at distracting her from the dull throb she can't get rid of.
A quick glance at her phone and she realizes that it's only 6:23 in the afternoon. She hadn't even spent twenty whole minutes in his home. An entire lifetime of dreams and hopes and aspirations, turned to dust in less time than the length of an episode of Spongebob Squarepants.
She explodes into a hysterical fit of giggles at the comparison. Out of everything in the world she could have possibly thought of, a stupid show about a talking sponge that lived in a pineapple is what her mind produces. No wonder Daryl'd decided he was done with her, her brain was about to call it quits on her, too.
A stop sign comes into view and Beth takes the moment to stare at her duffel bag, open and taunting on the seat beside her.
She thinks about setting it all on fire.
Thinks about taking out everything that reminded her of him and setting it ablaze on one of the campfire pits in her backyard. Thinks about standing there and waiting until every memory of him is turned to ashes right before her eyes. Thinks about doing that and finally being able to breathe.
Except, it'd be useless, because he's everywhere.
Daryl fucking Dixon is everywhere.
He's in the violet bruises on her hips where his fingers held on too tightly. He's in the ache and soreness that persists between her thighs where he'd pushed into her repeatedly, filling her body and taking everything she had to give. He's in the burn she feels across her clavicle where his scruff had scratched against her skin and he's in the strawberry-tinted marks surrounding her chest where his teeth had dug down and nipped.
He's in the scent of leather and the taste of smoke.
He's in the amber of whisky and the black of oil and the blue of sapphire eyes.
He's in the roar of engines and the low rumbles of a man's baritone.
He's clawed and buried in her soul.
She pulls into the farm, thankful for the small miracle that was her not crashing into another car or into their home. Patricia rushes out, surprised at seeing her back already. Beth steps out of the truck, and the look of absolute concern on the older woman's face is enough to bring back the tears in full force. She runs towards her, wrapping her arms around her confidant and letting the woman comfort her the way only a mother can.
"He didn't want me, Patty."
"Oh, baby girl," Patricia sighs, leading her inside and straight up to her room. She guides her to the bed and sits down beside her, motioning for her to lay her head on her lap. Beth obliges, desperate for the affection as she waits for the soothing touch to run through her hair and melt away her fears just like when she was a little girl and her momma and daddy were away.
"I went over to tell him I wanted to move in and live with him and he said I was stupid and that he'd never promised me anything."
"Bethy," Patricia tries to intervene, halting her hands as Beth shuffles until she can look at the woman straight in the eyes.
"And he was right!" she cried out, fighting off the hysteria that's threatening to creep back in. "He never promised me anything. I thought he was this great love of mine but he never said he loved me or anything like that. I thought that he just needed time to open up but he never planned to and I'm such an idiot."
"You're not an idiot, sweetheart; you just fell in love and made a mistake."
"Not like this," she argues, turning her gaze away in hopes of avoiding the disappointment she's sure she'll find in Patricia's face. "I gave him everything, I basically offered myself up to him right after we met, and he just threw it back in my face."
The older woman releases a heavy sigh, "I know you don't want to hear this, but maybe it's for the best. Now you know that there was no future with him, and you can move on and focus on yourself and the things that make you happy again."
Beth wishes she could.
Wishes there was some magical way her heartbreak could be taken away, but she's had enough experience with it to know that it never truly does. You just have to wait it out and hope that your heart is strong enough to make extra space for somebody else to eventually come in.
"I feel like there's something pressing down on my chest and it doesn't matter how hard I try because I can't breathe," she tries to explain. "I feel like I'm gonna throw up at any moment and it sounds like me being overdramatic but I swear that my heart hurts, Patty. It hurts so much and I just feel cold."
"I know, Bethy. I know."
They don't say anything else for a long time.
Later, when Beth's finally managed to get a grip on her tears and sobs have settled into a steady stream of low moans and whimpers, Patricia reminds her of a little gift she had tucked away under lock and key in one of her desk's drawers. Something that could now be turn into a blessing or a curse.
"Sweetheart, maybe the best thing you can do right now is take the opportunity you've been given," she suggests.
"You want me to run away from this?" Beth questions her, scrunching her eyebrows together in confusion and wincing at the pain her swollen eyes cause on her face. "All you've ever taught me is how to face my fears and to always keep my chin up. Do you think I won't be able to get over this?"
"No, Bethy," Patricia clarifies, clearing her throat and holding her hands between her own. "I love you and in my book you are my daughter and the last thing I want is to lose you, but I know that the last thing you need is to be here right now.
"Take the scholarship, honey. You worked so hard for it and you earned it."
"But-" Beth begins to argue before being cut off.
"None of that: take it and get the clean break you deserve and don't you come back here until you feel truly happy and free."
She listens, because (almost) mother knows best.
Right?
…
New York is everything and nothing like she'd imagined.
Her roommate is named Haley and she's a sweet girl from Tennessee. She's majoring in history and always talks about how she'd spent her entire childhood out camping and training with her brother and father. Haley's mom passed away when she was a little girl, and Beth is quick to befriend her and lend her support. They're both new to this city and they were both raised in small towns, so it was nice to have somebody to talk to who could understand the struggle to adapt.
Beth tries her best to smile and silently breathe through it when Haley gushes about the Olympics and offers to teach her how to use a bow.
It's not the girl's fault that she can't stand to be around anything that reminds her of ex-lover.
It's been about a month since she's seen Daryl and two weeks since she moved into her dorm when Beth forces herself to stop wallowing and go out. She puts her hair up into a bun and pulls on an old gray sweater that once belonged to Shawn, grabs her keys and her purse and then she's out the door. Baby steps, Beth reminds herself, forcing her legs to move off campus and into the shopping and music district. It's beautiful and it's dirty and a thousand other contradictions that both fail and exceed all her expectations. She buys a beaten-up keyboard with the money her daddy stuffed into her bag, despite her protests, and decides to send him a postcard to show her gratitude.
Daryl might have taken a lot of things from her, but he did not take her music.
Only her momma and brother, the people who were her flesh and blood, had unintentionally done that to her for a little while but she'd gone back to singing the minute her mind realized that her family would have never wished for her to lose her music.
She walks into a random convenience store in search of postcards and hair conditioner. The first ones are easy enough to spot, a huge rack placed right next to the entrance, and she picks out a couple to mail to the the farm and to her sister and Glenn in Atlanta.
The second takes a little bit more effort, and it's not until she's making her way down the feminine hygiene isle that Beth gets a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as she stares at the rows filled with pads and liners and tampons. She's been in New York for two weeks and she hadn't bothered to stock up on her products because her period hadn't arrived. She tries to remember her last cycle, and fear nearly cripples her as she realizes that she's running at least three weeks late.
Oh, God.
Her eyes snap to the shelf across from the liners, spotting the various pregnancy tests stocked up into neat little towers. Her hand falters for a second but then she's grabbing three different kinds and dumping them all into her basket. She thinks she must look the way she feels, because the check-out girls gives her a sympathetic smile and wishes her luck as she walks out of the store.
And now she's sitting inside the stall of her dorm's restroom, watching the seconds click by as she waits for the five minutes the various tests required for a result. She is alone and she is terrified and she doesn't have a clue what in the world she's going to do if the results come back positive and she's immediately responsible for another tiny life.
No.
No.
She is not that girl.
Beth is not the girl that sleeps around with older men she barely knows. She's not the girl who sleeps around, period. She is not the girl who gets pregnant when she's still technically a teenager. She is not the one who brings shame to her family name and lineage. Beth is the girl who plans and stresses out and over-achieves. She's the good girl who brings joy and pride and when did everything go so wrong?
'The day you met Daryl Dixon' her cynical side whispers.
Her mind is bombarded with thoughts that scare her to death; she thinks about having to face her family if she'd somehow managed to get pregnant. Thinks about how she'd probably have to quit school and move back home. She thinks about what's sure to be her father's disappointment and Patricia's heartbreak and Maggie's anger. Beth thinks about having to show up at Daryl's door, swollen belly and news of his upcoming fatherhood. She thinks about not telling him, and never being able to go back home.
And in between her hysteria and panic she pictures a little boy with pale skin and chocolate-tinted hair. She can imagine big blue eyes and a cute little button nose and a wide smile that always melted into a grin. She can see him in her arms as he cuddles his cheek against hers and calls her 'mamma' and Beth's heart clenches and her throat swells with how much she wants it. A perfect little being that she could love and cherish without condition or reserve, and who would love her as much in return.
She must be crazy, but she wants it.
Her timer vibrates, and Beth grabs for the first one.
The test comes back negative and she can't understand how that single line manages to steal what's left of her heart.
The second and third one verify the same result.
She cries that night, too, and dumps the keyboard into the biggest trashcan she can find without giving it a second thought.
Daryl didn't take her music, but the baby boy her mind conceived sure as hell did.
…
Beth finishes her freshman year near the top of her class. It's easy and she's got no distractions and nothing but time to study. Her daddy tells her that he's proud of her and her success and he explains he's disappointed she won't be coming home for the summer but that he understands. It's a big move, from New York down to Georgia, and she needs time to settle down before classes start up in the fall.
She'd put in her transfer request for Savannah State University the moment enrollment opened up for her sophomore year.
She misses home; misses the heat and the forest and the colors and the fresh air, misses the clear skies and the small towns. Misses feeling like she belongs and fits in; misses knowing that her family was only a car ride away.
But she can't go home yet, and she'll live miserably in New York for the rest of her life before somebody tries to force her to live in Atlanta. She needs to be together, but separate. Close, but independent. Free to live her life and make her mistakes without having to worry about the rumors hitting the farm before day's end, but still having the option of running there for a warm embrace if the need ever became overwhelming.
Savannah is the perfect place; she just knows it.
The day after her Spring Semester finishes she gets onto a plane out of New York and she doesn't feel the tiniest need to look back. She's leaving all those broken dreams and lonely days behind.
This city could've never been hers, anyways.
It's a city meant for dreamers and she doesn't fit the bill.
...
AN: Huge apologies for the delay! It's been a crazy couple of weeks.
I really hope you guys like this one. I was originally planning to have the Dixons in this chapter but I decided to turn it into a long past tense so I can move the story along. Next chapter will explain what caused Daryl to break up with Beth and other surprises.
I'm actually really stoked to start writing Chapter 6 and on because now I get to have my fun! Sex and drugs and rock n' roll shall ensue.
Don't forget to review!