A/N: Happy New Year people, hope you had a good one! Thank you to everyone who has followed/ favorite and reviewed this story, and to all of you who just like to read it, I love you guys! I know it's been a while, but things happened that were out of my control, and I was left with a choice. I could wallow in self-pity and pout over everything that was lost, or suck it up and move on with things... I did a lot of both. Forgive me if you can. If you can't I understand.

As for this chapter it's finally here... If you read Four Days when this thing was going to be a series of short stories, and before I changed my mind and reposted it as a one shot, this challenge is for you. There is a small part of that story that I took out because it was always meant to be in this one. Ten Bethyl bonus points if you can guess what it is... Tee, hee, hee:)

Enjoy!

When Beth closes her eyes and tries to remember, she can practically hear her ecclectic mix of Bob Marley, Lynyrd Skynyrd, and The Tragically Hip that once played through the ear buds of her old i-pod. It seems a lifetime ago since last she rocked out to the likes of Nickleback, or basked in the brilliance of an Areosmith ballad. Otis Redding to Nervana, Ella Fitzgerald to Elton John, Beth couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was that drew her to a particular piece of music. All she knew was that ever since she was a little girl music itself breathed a life of its own inside her. The right song at the right time would light her up like nothing before Daryl could, or like the flip of a switch send her delving head first deep into her memories. Music was in her blood, her bones, her DNA; And the simple idea that she would once again hear a song the way it was meant to be heard, with drums and a keyboard and a base guitar all spinning their magic on a well written verse sent her soaring over the moon.

"clink, clink, clunk... clink, clink, clunk... clink, clink, clunk..."

Daryl keeps his eyes to the road as Beth sits low in the passenger seat of the beat up Civic, her arms folded tightly across her chest, silently stewing as she frowns down at the glove box that hangs open at an odd angle in front of her. Stuffed to the brim inside the box are a multitude of brightly coloured cases that clatter back and forth to the vibrations of the vehicle, serving only as a cruel and constant reminder to the youngest Greene girl of her wasted opportunity. Beth knows it's irrational, selfish even to get this upset over something so trivial, but quite frankly in this moment she is simply too angry at herself to care.

"It's sweet of you to offer Daryl... honest it is, but it wouldn't feel right to me. You know as well as I do we can't afford any risk of draining the battery, no matter how tempting it is. No worries though. Rick's organizing plans for another run next week and he's already said that I can be a part of it. I'll be groovin' to these tunes soon enough so don't you fret one bit about me. I can be patient. I can wait."

She should have known better than to build it up so big in her mind. That was her mistake right there. These days nothing is for keeps. Everything's borrowed - either from the world or the dead, and like humanity itself, technology now teeters on the brink of extiction. An endangered species so rare that given a few years more, will likely disappear from the world all together, becoming nothing more than the reminents of a faded memory in minds of a chosen few.

The sullen blonde watches the trees blow passed, her emotions still raw as she sadly recalls the events of earlier that day. It had taken every ounce of inner strength she had left to mask her disappointment beneath a half-hearted smile when she first saw the damaged on the inside of the car. They had just finished saying their goodbyes to the rest of the group, and she was loading her bag into the backseat when Daryl walked up behind her with a bag of his own. The expression on his face said it all. He felt horrible about it, and no way was she going to make him feel worse by dwelling on something that couldn't be helped. Daryl never had a choice in it. He had single-handedly saved Glen's life, and Glen had brought them home safe, and for that fact alone Beth counted her blessings.

Her thoughts drift to Noah and an icy chill runs the length of her spine. Just knowing what was out there now... What that boy had been a part of... Cannibles, my God!

"clink, clink, clunk... clink, clink, clunk... clink, clink, clunk..."

Even so... Daryl still could've said somethin'. Told her about the state of things when he told her the rest. Given her a heads up maybe when they were laying in bed, curled in each others arms and she was going on and on about making a playlist. Pestering him like an idiot with questions about the sort of music he liked; And when he didn't respond, flat out telling him he'd better figure it out soon, 'cause she'd be takin' requests. Yah, he definitely could've said something then.

Still hasn't! They've been out in this wasteland for what seems an eternity, and the man is yet to utter a single word. Not a cuss! Not a grunt! Not a cough! Nothing! All silence, but for the stupid thing banging just above the gear shift as it dangles there by a couple of wires!

"clink, clink, clunk..."

... And that is the sound that is driving her crazy! Mocking her for every bend in the road with its steady rhythmic beat, "clink, clink, clunk... clink, clink, clunk..." Relentless in its persistent torment as they travel over another long patch of crumbling pavement, "clink, clink, clunk... clink, clink, clunk..." and then a legless walker that catches their wheel, "clink, cliNK, CLUNK... clink, cliNK, CLUNK..."

Beth hates that sound. That clink and that clunk that make her want to scream! Seeming to grate louder in her ears for every second that passes, and Daryl won't talk to her. He won't even look at her! "Humpft!"

As the air leaves Beth's lungs a piece of blonde hair flies free from her forehead, but it's the tone of her huff, not the puff of her hair that causes the hunter to squirm in his seat. Daryl knows there's no avoiding this now, and after thoughtful deliberation, decides the best thing to do is first confirm his suspicions. He doesn't relish the task as he suspects it will require a delicate hand, and it ain't no secret that delicate things ain't ever been something a Dixon's been good at. So Daryl takes a deep breath, paying careful mind not to turn his head as he slowly peers at the blonde through a mesh of long hair and long lashes out of the farthest reaching corner of his right eye, immediately sorry for the effort when he finds himself met with a long ... cold ... glare. Yep, she's pissed alright.

Unsure of what to do next, Daryl turns his attention back to the road, inwardly scolding himself as he continues to drive. What the hell was wrong with him? Why'd he have to be such a coward when it came to this girl? He should've just told Beth the truth straight away, ending any and all further expectations on the matter. He could've said somthin' out there on that rock; Told her the damn thing was broken when he told her about Noah and the run. Could've at least tried. Dumbass!

But even as his thoughts seek to destroy him, Daryl knows down deep that what he's telling himself is a lie. The truth is he did try. He tried over and over and over again, but the timing of things never lined up quite right. So much was happening all at once, and by the time the topic finally came up on it's own, well... in all fairness, how could he?

"What kind of monster does that make me now?"

Daryl will never forget the storm that raged on in Beth's beautiful eyes as she said those words, and for as long as he lives they will forever be branded a scar upon his heart. Compartmentally stored for safe-keeping in a neat little box at the back of his brain labeled, The time I failed Beth. He didn't protect her. He wasn't there

Flexing his hand over the steering wheel, he feels the pinch from where yesterday his nails dug so deep into his closed fist that his palm began to bleed. A whole day later and Beth's depiction of Gorman still blazes like a fire in front of his eyes, brewing poker hot in the forefront of his mind as he thinks on how that bastard put his hands on Beth. How many women had the puss-bucket done that too? How many girls that couldn't fight like Beth, didn't have hope like Beth had he lorded his power over? Daryl only wishes that the sorry son-of-a-bitch could be brought back to life so's he could kill him again. Only he'd make it slow... painful... deliberate.

In the end it was Beth that had done the job though, and it was Daryl that was left the unpleasent task of holding her sobbing frame in his arms while he desperately tried to figure out a way to glue back together the pieces of her battered soul. He just needed to blur the lines for her then. Thought that maybe if he told her about Noah, Beth wouldn't feel so alone in the choices she was forced to make, (and more important still) hoped it would help her to see that it didn't make her a bad person for feeling the way she did about it.

Crazy's always been out there. The turn only amplified it. Gave the sick people of the world, (the ones like Gorman and Noah) the permission to crawl out from the framework of society and be who they truly were. Beth is a surviver, not a monster; And yesterday out there on that rock, Daryl just needed for Beth to know that too.

"clink, clink, clunk... clink, clink, clunk... clink, clink, clunk..."

The hunter slowly maneuvers around the felled branches and broken tree limbs that litter their route, cringing as he listens to the pretty blonde fidget in her seat for like the hundredth time. Made worse by the fact that Beth refuses to complain as she stretches her legs beneath the plastic mount of the dash in what Daryl can only assume is her attempt at finding a more comfortable position for which the glove box won't repeatedly smack against her knees as he drives them through the debrie.

Beth fidgets again, and Daryl feels something inside himself snap. Without warning he suddenly veers the car to the side of the road, slams his foot on the brake and pulls the key from the ignition. "Enough of this Greene!"

"What in the blazes are you doing?"

"Somethin' I should have done yesterday. Pull up yer legs." Reaching into the backseat for the dirty rag Glen tossed there days ago, Daryl wraps it around his hand several times and punches down hard on the portion of glove-box still attached to the car. Next he yanks at the c.d. player with the full force of his body, sparks flying as he detaches it from the wires. Then leaning across Beth's lap, his eyes dangerously close to hers, proceeds to manually roll down her window and chuck the broken contents onto the gravel below. "Better now," he growls.

Unable to look away, Beth's wide eyes stay focused on the hunter, surprise and utter shock etched into every detail of her face as she slowly nods her head. "Um...Yah, thanks."

"Don't mention it," he winks. A playful smirk emerges around the edges of Daryl's mouth and before Beth can blink he catches her bottom lip in his, holding it there just a moment before peeling himself off of her trembling form. He reaches across Beth's shoulder and clicks her seatbelt into place, then slides back into his own seat, sweat smearing his brow as he tries to settle in. Daryl's arousal makes it difficult for him to get comfortable, but never-the-less he pulls the seatbelt over his lap and fires up the engine.

Beth lowers her head, feeling suddenly ashamed for her selfish behaviour and that's when she spots it. Low and behold there amongst the scattered c.d's spilled out at her feet is The hip's album Up to Here. Shaking her head for the irony of it, the tiny blonde sighs and turns to look at Daryl in the driver's seat. "You could have told me you know. I would've understood."

"I'll make sure to keep that in mind for the next time I bash some guys head through somethin' you don't want broke."

"I'm serious, Daryl. You don't have to hide anything from me. I'm always going to be on your side. No matter what."

"I wasn't hidin' it Beth. I just wanted to protect yah from it is all."

"Protect me, from this?" Beth mavels at him in wonder and speaks with a confused sort of humour to her voice. "Daryl, you had to know I was gonna find out."

"Damn it Beth!" The hunter slams down his hand on the steering wheel, then waves it over the gapping hole in the dash. "It's not just this. It's all of it... out there... the ugliness of it. Don't you see... I ain't ever had anybody to rely on me for nothin' before. Never wanted no one neither. Then you come along, and suddenly I find myself wanting, needing more than anything in my whole God damn life to fix the world, just so's that you can live in it. I feel like I don't deserve you if I can't at least do that."

Completely blown away, Beth is silent, tears trickling down cheeks as Daryl continues softly. "I'm tryin' here Beth."

"I know you are," she whispers, wiping the dampness from her cheek.

"This is real new for me, yah know. Not use to anyone carin' before. I don't wanna let you down. Guess I just didn't know how to go about crushin' yer dream..."

Beth laughs a little through her tears and is about to speak, when words she never expected to hear come tumbling out of his mouth instead.

"I never had a girl before."

Instantly her jaw slacks open and the butterflies she swears have lived in her tummy since their first kiss in the Christmas store begin fluttering madly inside her. "Daryl... Are you calling me your girlfriend?"

Daryl doesn't take his eyes off the road, but he doesn't need to look to know the girl is staring up at him with expectant eyes, waiting for him to say something. His throat gets thick. His ears go pink, and a crease knots his brow, but he looks at her anyway. "Well yah don't gotta get all doughy eyed about it," he says with a shrug. "If you want to be yah can, I don't mind. If you don't, I understand. But yah gotta know that for me it's locked up. You're it, no matter what you decide... You'll always be my girl, Beth."

"Daryl... I...I..." unable to formulate words and wishing Daryl would just stop the car, Beth is mere seconds from jumping over the seat safety be damned and kissing him outright, when a small little matter flies in through her window and lands on the steering wheel in front of him. It really is a small matter and one easily rectified, but for Daryl it may as well be Gollieth.

On a scale of one to ten, ten being the most anxiety Daryl Dixon has ever felt in his entire life he would have to put what he feels now to be around a seventy-five. The hairs on the back of his neck instantly prickle, beads of perspiration form near his hairline and his mouth turns to cotton.

"Beth," he manages to gulp out. "I need yah to do somethin' for me. Very calmly I want yah to lean over and get this thing off my wheel. No sudden movements yah here."

Not understanding the severity of the hunter's request, Beth giggles, then replies in her ususal sing-song voice. "Just roll down you're window and it will fly right out."

"Christ Beth, yah best take care of it now or I'm gettin' out and hoofin' it, yah here!"

"It's just a bee Daryl, geez. It's more afraid of you, than you are of it," she says, shooing the insect back out the window from which it came.

"Yah right, just a bee, phefft! Tell that to the other one."

"Huh?"

"Sent straight from hell those things are!"

Beth shakes her head, a wide grin growing on her face. "Why Mr. Dixon, are you telling me that a big strong man like yourself is afraid of a little ol' bee." She can't help but love this.

"I told yah once girl, I ain't afraid of nothin'," he growls, then in a softer but still gruff tone adds, "I just don't like 'em much is all."

"Why, you allergic or something?"

"Somethin'," he grumbles as he pulls his thumb to his teeth and starts nawing on what's left of the skin there.

Normally Beth would let the matter drop upon seeing his embarrassment, but after that display there's no way he's getting off that easy. "What," she asks, practically bursting.

"Stop it. Let's just say it's a matter best left buried, and leave it at that."

"Sorry Dixon, but it ain't gonna happen... What," Beth beams again.

Daryl sighs deeply, and darts another quick glance Beth's way. If the circumstances had been any different he swears the twinkle in her eyes would have knocked him flat. He looks to the road, thinking on everything Glen said to him while out on the run. Not the lyin' part of things, Beth already knew about Noah, but maybe the story would make for a good distraction. He could trust Beth with it. She wouldn't say anything, so maybe it'd be ok.

Daryl voice is practically a whisper as when he begins. "When I was seven my mom died in a fire that burned our house to the ground. Pops didn't seemed too broken up about it, more of an inconvience to him than anything else. He used the some of the insurance money and moved us to this skeezy trailer park across town, then proceeded to drink the rest of it away.

Beth's ears perk up at the mention of his parents. Daryl barely talks about his childhood at all, and she doesn't want to breathe for fear he will suddenly stop.

"There was no food in the fridge, only beer, and the place stank of stale moonshine when Merle showed up at the door few days later. He'd been released from juvie and I remember wondering to myself how long he would stick around for this time. The first thing Merle sees is pops passed out on his dirty old recliner (it was the only damn thing to survive the fire, if you can believe it), And I guess he felt sorry for me or somethin', cause straight away he says that the two of us are goin' hunting. Said he wanted to teach me the ropes so's I could take care of myself when he wasn't around.

He drives us about an hour outside of town, and all I can remember about getting there is how badly I gotta take a piss. Merle points to a tree and I don't argue. Two shakes and I would've been done when I hear a rustling in the bushes. Suddenly there's Merle, running full tilt towards me. He looks terrified, and I think he's gonna save me from somethin' when he passes straight on by yellin' Bear! Bear! at the top of his lungs. Not knowing what to do I panic. I jump up and grab the first branch I can get my hands 'round, haulin' my boney ass up the tree. My pants falling to my knees in the process."

"Eeesh," she cringes.

"You're not kiddin'! Scrapped the ever-livin'-shit out of my thighs!"

"Yah heeled alright," Beth jokes.

Daryl rolls his eyes. "Anyway... So there I am, clinging to the branch for dear life when I hear Merle down below bustin' a gut. He's rolling on the ground, slappin' his knees and howling so loud I figure they must of heard him four counties over. Tellin' me what a pussy ass pansy I am, and that had it been a real bear I'd be dead, 'cause bears climb trees. I can still hear his voice in my head. Dixon's don't run, he says. Dixon's fight. I'm beginning to question if yer even a Dixon at all Darylina?"

"Daryl, that's awful."

The hunter side-eyes the blonde with a mischievous glint in his eye, and a crooked smile on his lips, "I ain't finished yet."

"Oh.." she giggles, "by all means, finish."

"Like I said I was clinging to the branch, perched up there like Pooh, with my pants somewhere's 'round my knees when...

"Hold up a sec... Pooh?"

"Yah you know, that silly little bear who always gets his head stuck in the honey tree."

"I know who Winnie the Pooh is Daryl. I just didn't think that you would."

"Jesus, Greene. I grew up in the sticks, not on another planet. Everyone knows that damn bear. Now do you want to hear the rest of the story or not?"

"Sorry," Beth says in her most serious tone, "won't happen again."

Daryl takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he prepares to leave all pride at the door. "Like I told yah, I was percariously perched, leaning on the trunk of the tree as I tried to shove my junk back into my pants, when my foot accidently knocked a small hive. Yah can guess what happened next.

Daryl looks so serious, Beth is almost afraid to ask. "What," she whispers

"I got stung that's what... in my left nut! Like I said, I don't much care for bees."

Beth covers her mouth in an attempt to hold back the uproarious laughter that wants to escape her, not realizing until moments later that Daryl hasn't taken his eyes of the road, nor made so much as a single peep since his story ended. Given the serious nature of his expression, Beth figures she should probably say something, and so tries to console him through intermintent bouts of histerical laughter. "I'm so... I mean, there's just no... it's just so..." The harder she tries to hold it in, the worse it gets until finally tears are streaming down her bright red face.

"Go ahead and laugh it up Greene, Merle sure as hell did." Suddenly Daryl's laughing right along with her and for a brief flicker of time all is right with the world as Daryl starts to drive over the concrete bridge.

By the time they see the crack in the road and feel the sinking beneath them, it is already to late. Daryl's futile effort to slap the car in reverse is answered only by the rusty grind of concrete against metal as the bridge gives way. The feel of them falling is the last thing he remembers before his body lunges forward, and everything goes dark...

..."Daryl, Daryl wake up! Please wake up! I can hear them, their coming."