"So what was this, good cop bad cop?" Daryl asked, his face sweaty and paler than normal. Beth felt a smile tug at her lips, despite herself. She glanced at her father, whose eyes were crinkled in the rear-view mirror.
"Not deliberately," she told him. "On my part, anyway," she amended, avoiding looking in the rear-view mirror as she spoke, and Daryl snorted lightly.
They approached the gate, and Hershel turned off the road slowly and carefully, the truck easing into the slight dip as they drove on to the dirt road. The drive up to the house was slow with every pebble seemingly reverberating through the vehicle. Beth breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the house, immediately jumping out of the truck and pacing around to the other side, in time to offer her arm to Daryl as he opened the door.
He huffed a little but allowed her to link her arm through his, and she smiled up at him before they started walking towards the house. She glanced back at the truck to throw her father a grateful look as he pushed the car door shut.
Daryl didn't quite lean on her as they ascended the steps to the veranda and entered the house.
.
Beth quickly surmised that the best room for Daryl would be the bedroom downstairs, which was usually used as a guest bedroom. He slowly unwound his arm from Beth's and sat down heavily on the bed, shifting to lie down as he brought his feet up on to the bed with a groan before quickly lowering them with an almost guilty look at Beth. She watched with faint puzzlement as he started to remove his boots before realisation dawned upon her.
He didn't want to get dirt on the bed.
Besides the fact that the rest of his clothes were just as dirty as his boots, it was the furthest thing from Beth's mind at that moment. She hid a small smile as he used the toe of his boot to drag down the other, even as a pang of something between worry and endearment struck her. The stitches were in such a vulnerable place, or, at least to Beth, that's what it seemed like. She could tell he wasn't bending to take off his boots because of his stitches, which was good.
He had just discharged himself from hospital against medical advice, which was bad.
.
.
Beth let him settle in while she got a jug of water and a glass for him in the kitchen.
"You might want to start thinking about actually buying a car."
Beth looked up in surprise at her father, who gave her a wry glance as he walked into the room.
"I am," she protested, her words sounding hollow to her own ears.
Her father bent down and opened the cupboard where they kept the first aid kit. "Well," he started, his voice sounding muffled as he reached inside, "I don't think he'll be able to take you for a while."
"That's fine," Beth responded, unable to keep an edge of warning from entering her tone.
Hershel followed her into the guest room, where Daryl had already successfully ripped the blankets off the bed, bunching them together at the foot of the bed. He lay underneath a sheet, already dozing. All of the resistance at the hospital had seemed to have left him, as the events at the Dixon's family business and the surgery took its toll on his body.
"He needs to stay hydrated," her father said quietly, but his expression belayed his quiet tone. Beth nodded slowly as she understood. He needed to stay hydrated.
"Sips of water, until I figure something out." Hershel took the glass of water from Beth and sat on the edge of the bed, rousing their newly admitted patient.
Beth watched as Daryl reluctantly took the glass from her father.
"Sips of water, slow and steady," he directed the younger man.
It was going to be a long day, Beth surmised.
.
.
"He is not leaving this house unless he's going back to the hospital." It was late that afternoon, and Hershel leaned against the kitchen counter, wiping a glass with a tea towel. Beth nodded. She knew what she had said, and what Daryl had agreed to, but she doubted that he would argue in the morning.
"I know."
"I'll check on him until 12 o'clock, but after that, he's your responsibility."
Beth turned to look at her father, her hands still elbow deep in soapy water as she paused in the midst of wiping down a plate.
"He is your responsibility." Her father repeated sternly. "I took him into this house, but you took him into our lives. When he refused to stay, I knew what you were going to ask me."
She took her hands out of the water and opened her mouth to respond, but her father spoke again.
"I will look after him. But Bethy, I'm an old man. And he needs someone to check on him, 'round the clock."
Beth's gaze wavered uncertainly, but she nodded. "Okay."
Hershel smiled at his daughter kindly. "You'll do fine. If you need anything you can wake me."
Beth nodded.
.
Carol stopped by before dinner to see how Beth was going and to drop off the keys to Daryl's truck. She expressed her surprise to learn that Daryl was staying with them, but complimented them warmly for helping him. Beth had focused very hard on not looking at her father at that moment, as Carol had seemed to direct her smile more towards Beth than Hershel.
.
How can someone's unseen presence be so distracting?
Beth stared at her laptop, pondering this very question when the screen went black and she moved the mouse jerkily, blinking in the renewed glare of the screen as it came back to life. Her final exam was next week but all she could focus on was Daryl, those two men who were still out there, her father, Daryl and…Daryl. Oh and then her upcoming exam.
She could hear noises from downstairs every now and then as her father walked through the house and she wondered if Daryl was awake again. It was nearly 10 pm and she was planning on sleeping soon. Her alarm on her phone was already set for 11:50 pm, so that she could have enough time to muster herself awake. She considered herself lucky that she fell asleep easily.
She shut her laptop with a sigh, before switching her light off and crawling into bed.
.
.
The alarm went off like a siren in the darkness, startling Beth so much so that she jumped in the sheets, her arm flying out in the direction of the noise only to push the wailing phone on to the floor with a loud clatter.
"Shoot," she muttered, her hand groping around the floor trying to find her phone. The flashing light of the upturned screen blinded her until she finally grabbed the phone, effectively shielding the light and bringing it under the sheets. She hurriedly pressed dismiss and lay still for a minute, staring up at the ceiling, obscured by darkness.
She pushed back the sheets and got out of bed.
.
Daryl was asleep for most of the night. Beth curled up on the armchair in the corner, her laptop in her lap and a thermos of strong coffee next to her. When he stirred awake, she would gently coax him into drinking some water, before he would fall back against the pillow. She felt her eyes burn as the night went on, the minutes dragging by. She looked over at Daryl's form on the bed. He slept heavily, only moving when he awoke. The night was eerily quiet, the hum of the refrigerator inaudible from the bedroom and the only other noises being Daryl's breathing and the click of the touchpad as she skimmed her readings.
The glare of the laptop seemed to increase and Beth squeezed her eyes shut, blinking rapidly when she opened them. The dim light from the lamp in the corner of the room did not seem to help.
Daryl made a soft noise and she glanced up, alert. He shifted slightly, but when he did not rouse she sighed, looking back down at her reading.
A slightly louder noise from the bed caused Beth to look up again in concern to see Daryl twitch and she held her breath as she stared at him. He twitched again, making a noise that could have almost been a groan…or maybe more of a 'no'. She shut her laptop slowly, placing it on the table next to her as she started to stand. His body twitched and shuddered, a hoarse but stronger noise torn from his lips. This time, as she strode over to the bed, Beth could tell that it was a definite 'no'. She knelt down by the bed, placing a hand gingerly on his shoulder. He startled awake, jolting away from her touch almost violently.
"Daryl, it's okay, it's just me," Beth assured him softly, retracting her hand and placing it on the edge of the bed instead. He looked at her, his eyes guarded before they shut wearily. He fell back against the pillow with a wince, and she picked the glass of water up from the bedside table.
"Here, it's okay. Have some water."
He snorted softly.
.
He sipped water for a while and neither of them mentioned his dream, or apparent nightmare, before he fell asleep again.
.
Daryl awoke again as it was starting to get light.
"I'm not goin' home today, am I?" He asked, his voice deep and rumbly. He was sitting up, leaning against the wall.
Beth sat on the other side of the bed, her legs tucked into her body. She shook her head. "Nope. If you're goin' anywhere, it'll be back to the hospital."
He sighed, but not in a disappointed way. "Too fuckin' tired anyway." He let his head fall back against the wall.
She smiled, feeling the relief spread through her body. "I think you lost a bit of blood." She kept her tone light, but only because he was sitting before her.
Daryl shifted his jaw, his eyes heavy lidded as he stared vaguely at a spot on the opposite wall. "Nothin' new."
Beth's smile faded.
.
.
The morning dawned quietly and brightly. Hershel awoke later than usual, tired from the events of the past two days. He walked down the stairs with as much care as his old frame would allow, and padded over to the first floor bedroom.
Daryl was asleep, sitting up against his pillow. On the opposite side on the foot of the bed, Beth was curled up into a ball, fast asleep.
He sighed.
.
.
.
"Heard yer Daddy before."
Midnight had descended upon them, and Beth had just entered the bedroom. She glanced at Daryl guiltily before shutting the door behind her with a soft click.
"Yeah, sorry 'bout this morning. I swear I will not fall asleep tonight."
After he had woken her up, Beth had followed her father out into the kitchen. The ensuing discussion had ended in raised voices as Hershel reminded her about her responsibilities, and Beth's angry, albeit guilty replies.
His stare seemed to follow her through the room as she tiptoed over to the armchair with her laptop under one arm and her thermos in the other. The light was low, the lamp in the corner the only source, and cast shadows as she moved.
She sat down less than gracefully in the cushy chair with a soft thump, holding the thermos up in the air around her head as the laptop flopped on to her lap. She looked up at Daryl sheepishly, but he quickly averted his gaze.
As she settled in her seat, she picked at her cotton pyjama shirt self-consciously. While she would never admit it to anyone, she had actually debated over which pyjamas to wear. The night before she had been in an old t-shirt and shorts, but tonight she had stopped and looked through her wardrobe.
Beth chanced a glance up at him while she adjusted the laptop, switching it on at the side. He was wearing a white t-shirt that must have been one of her father's old shirts. It was faded and the collar worn, and it made Daryl's skin look even tanner against it. It looked a little snug across his shoulders.
He took a long sip of water.
The chair creaked as she shifted in the seat, the otherwise silent night stretching between them like a worn rag about to tear.
"Thanks." He coughed abruptly, clearing his throat. She looked at him curiously as she placed the thermos on the table next to her.
"Should'a said it earlier." He mumbled, fiddling with the sheet for a moment. "Did more for me than…" He cleared his throat again, and shifted as though he was trying to get comfortable in the bed. "Thanks."
Beth smiled ruefully. "I wish I'd done more." Her eyes went downcast for a moment. "Maybe you wouldn't have…maybe they wouldn't have…" she floundered before finally shrugging helplessly.
Daryl shook his head. "Ain't nothin' you could've done more than what you did. 'Sides, I was more talkin' 'bout this." He indicated the room with his hand, lifting it for a moment. "Bringing me here."
Beth doesn't quite know what to say to that, but nods after a moment. "You're welcome." She's glad that he had accepted that he needed help, although she wished that he would admit himself back into hospital where he could get the best medical attention available. Although, her father had mentioned earlier that day that Daryl seemed to be doing quite well.
"Would you consider…going back to hospital?"
He inhaled deeply, sucking his lips in before slowly shaking his head. "Could go back, but…it's been two days. They would've discharged me in the mornin' anyway."
Considering what the doctor had said, that was probably true. "Oh."
Daryl picked up the glass on the bedside table carefully and took a sip of water. "I'll be outta your hair soon." He put the glass back down on the table with a thunk.
Beth blinked, pausing in the midst of typing her password in to the laptop. "What do you mean?" She asked curiously.
"Prob'ly leave tomorrow," he yawned widely, sinking down into his pillow. Clearly falling asleep, Beth refrained from saying anything further and let him rest.
.
.
Hershel pushed the door to the bedroom open slowly, the light filtering through the curtains illuminating the hallway in a golden glow. The room inside was dark with the curtains drawn.
A blue glow emitted from the laptop in Beth's lap, and when she looked up it revealed the shadows under her eyes. Despite that, she looked alert as she shushed him with a finger to her lips.
He smiled faintly, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
.
.
.
"The Case of the Missing Man, huh?" Beth smiled widely.
The light in the room was shining brightly, and Daryl was sitting up in bed reading one of the children's books that must have been on the bookshelf on the wall.
"S'a classic, don't knock it." Daryl's eyes flicked over to her. "Yer the one who owns it."
Beth laughed. "That's true."
Earlier that morning Beth had spoken to her father about Daryl's intention of leaving, and he had said not to worry about it. She was relieved in the evening when Hershel told her that Daryl had been asleep in the morning, and seemed to have forgotten any talk about leaving that day.
She yawned as she sat down in the armchair, failing to cover her mouth, as her hands were full with her laptop and thermos. She opened her mouth immediately after to apologise, but Daryl was already yawning. He was wearing a different shirt today, a black one that looked quite good on him. Then again, she thought, he always looked good in black.
"Sorry," she apologised, putting her thermos down. "I just woke up."
He shook his head, his eyes slightly watery after yawning. "Don't apologise." He stated adamantly. Despite yawning, he looked remarkably better than he had yesterday. Her father had mentioned that he had been up earlier while Beth had been at work, browsing through the books in the lounge room.
Beth blinked, but nodded after a moment. They stared at each other until she felt her face warm slightly, and they both looked away.
She nibbled her bottom lip, opening the lid of her laptop and turning it on.
Daryl chewed the inside of his cheek while he stared at the children's book with more intensity than it warranted. Beth glanced at him over the lid of her laptop contemplatively. He did not appear to be doing more than staring at the pages, his concentration seemingly minimal at best. She had often thought over the past two days how bored he must feel cooped up in this room.
"How are you feeling?"
His eyes flicked over to meet her open expression. He shut the book slowly, before putting it down on the bed beside him. "Feel all right. Feel it a bit, sometimes." He scratched his chin.
Typical, of course for him to downplay a stab wound as "it", and the pain as just a "feel".
"Are you tired?"
He inhaled, shaking his head slowly. "Slept all fuckin' mornin'." The underlying restlessness revealed itself for a moment.
Beth hesitated. "Do ya…do ya wanna play monopoly?"
He blinked.
.
.
"I'm usually the dog."
He cleared his throat. "'Kay." He pushed the token he had just chosen, the dog, towards her.
"But you can be the dog if you want," she pushed the figurine back across the board towards him. He squinted up at her with a wry look that might have been a touch exasperated on his face.
"Do ya wanna be the dog?" He asked, clearly bemused by the value she placed on the choosing of the token.
She wrinkled her nose, looking at the figurines. It was the first time in years she had played the game, and the first time she was choosing a different token.
"I'll be…the top hat."
The corner of his lip tugged at a smile. She felt herself flush as she looked up at him as she took the top hat, his eyes warm as they watched her.
.
.
Beth was the banker, a role she usually relished but as the game progressed she found herself frustrated.
"Pay up."
She counted out £350, eyeing her dwindling stack of money before thrusting the handful of money at Daryl. He had, luckily, managed to land on Oxford Street, Liverpool Street Station and Park Lane, the latter of which she had just landed on. At least she had bought Mayfair, but he had only landed on that once.
He smirked slightly as he accepted the money and she rolled her eyes, huffing out a laugh. He seemed amused at her frustration at landing on Park Lane again…for the second time in a row.
Beth was starting to remember why she hadn't played monopoly in about ten years.
"You could at least gloat about it," she told him.
Daryl eyed her as he tucked the money under the board. "How long does this game go for?"
She shook her head. "Too long."
He grabbed the dice and rolled them across the board on to the bed, hitting Beth's knee. His eyes stayed firmly on the dice as he reached over the board, squinting as he read the dice.
He picked up the dog that sat on Old Kent Road and Beth followed his eyes the five spaces down and smiled triumphantly.
The only sign he gave was a quirk of an eyebrow. He placed the dog down on the pale blue rectangle, The Angel, Islington.
"That's…£100," she informed him needlessly. Daryl picked up the money he had just placed under the board and counted out the notes, handing them over with a dry look.
"Enjoying yerself?"
"A little," she grinned.
"Wait 'til I put a hotel up," he muttered.
.
.
Beth yawned widely, her eyes watering, as she collected all of the money lying around. Daryl had won the game, his run of expensive properties proving to more than adequate to empty Beth's bank account. Her frustration when he had started to win had eventually given way to enjoyment, as they poked fun at each other and simply enjoyed playing the game. Both of them conceded it was better with more than two people, although Beth privately thought she wouldn't mind just the two of them playing the game again. Just for a rematch.
Daryl had proven himself to be quite the strategist, putting houses on his most expensive properties and preventing Beth from buying any houses, as there was none left. It was a move she had not seen coming, and he had remained unapologetic while taking her money. Strangely that was one thing she had liked the most during the game. He didn't gloat, or rub it in her face when he made a buy. As the game had wound down both of them became quite sleepy, and Beth was almost relieved to concede the win when he finally bankrupted her.
"I'm so tired…" she mumbled as he folded up the board. She stretched out on the bed before curling up, her eyes closing of their own accord. His hand, large and calloused, closed around her wrist and her brow furrowed as he moved his hand along her skin, only to feel him pry the money she still clutched out of her grasp. The sounds of the game being packed away became distant, as though a heavy curtain was being drawn across the room. She slipped into a deep sleep.
.
.
Beth shifted, her brow furrowing as she slowly came to consciousness. Her eyes opened slowly and she blinked as she tried to make out her room. The bed shifted and her eyes opened wide until she remembered – they had been playing monopoly…and – darn it! She had fallen asleep again.
A faint noise emitted from Daryl and she turned on to her side, sluggish in her semiconscious state. The late nights took a toll on her, even if she slept earlier in the night and in the morning afterwards.
She did not remember getting into bed, and realised that he must have put the sheets over her when she had fallen asleep.
The shape opposite her in the bed shuddered violently and Beth inched closer to him. She hesitated before placing her hand flat against his back that was uncovered, only to feel his body shudder again. He groaned what sounded like 'no', and Beth shifted closer to him so her body was almost pressed against his.
"Daryl?" She whispered. He jolted awake as she moved her hand to place it on his shoulder instead. He was breathing heavily, as though he'd run a marathon.
"They had…you were…" he started, but didn't finish. She lifted up the sheets, bringing her legs up and over them. Beth closed the gap between their bodies, pressing her cheek against his back.
After some time, slowly but surely, she felt him relax against her and they both drifted into a deep slumber.
A/N: Hey everyone! Or, welcome, for any new readers :) I'm happy to finally post this because it has been driving me crazy. I was so frustrated, I re-wrote about half of it. Also, I know nothing about post-surgery care, except that you should stay in hospital.
Let me know what you think!
As always, thank you for your follows, favourites, reviews and for reading.