Author's Note: I know that this story has been angsty and playing with all your feels for a while now. As a thank you for all your sweet reviews and follows, I thought I'd throw something A LITTLE LESS SAD your way. More angst coming up, so enjoy it...

Beth watched as the scenery rushed by; the trees seemed to blur together if she squinted her eyes just right. The night before her and Daryl had decided it would be best to double back to the station wagon - he still had the keys after all. They both acknowledged there was a chance it wouldn't be there, but neither of them could see anyone going to the trouble of hot wiring it.

Wouldn't be m'first pick, Daryl has said to her while he rubbed his hand through the whiskers on his chin. Ain't seen one that ugly since I was a boy.

Beth had told him anything that ran and still had its keys was a thing of beauty. He had nodded, humming softly to himself in agreement. She wondered if he missed his motorcycle. Beth remembered watching him ride it, like the machine was an extension of his body - how much younger it made him look, and how much freer. She used to think about asking him if he would take her out on it, but now she was glad it was gone. She couldn't imagine wrapping her arms around him, laying the inside of her thighs against the back of his.

"Y'okay?" Daryl asked her, looking over.

Beth nodded silently, not trusting herself to speak. She hated how afraid she was of everything - of touching and being touched. Sometimes she liked to imagine herself with the old prison walls around her, all the barbed wire and check. Safe, she thought for a second, until she remembered how it had fallen, as though the world had breathed too hard on it - the world had breathed too hard on her.

Beth tried to count her blessings - that she was alive, that Daryl was alive (and the last he knew, so was most of the group), that winter was over, and that they now had a station wagon. The windows were open and this road, which could be any road, spread out before her seemingly endless. It could be enough, she told herself, if this is all I ever get - this moment could be enough.

"Would ya say somethin', girl?" Daryl asked. "It's gon' be a hell of a long ride if we just both sit here sayin' shit all to each other."

"I thought you liked the quiet," Beth said.

"There's a reason they use solitary as punishment," he pointed out. "Quiet is good sometimes - not all the time - and you ain't said a damn word since we took off out the town."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Don't matter to me. Anythin' would do."

"Well, let me think then," Beth muttered.

She looked across the seat to watch him drive. His hands were as sure and capable on the wheel as they were on his bow. Or his motorcycle. Or basically anything Daryl Dixon seemed to touch. His eyes were trained on the road, but she noticed the stiffness in his arms - he could tell she was watching him. She was sure of it. Beth turned her head quickly to look back out the window.

"Okay," Beth said quietly. "Well, when I was younger and winter was over, I used to do this thing..."

"... what thing?" Daryl prompted when she trailed off.

"Well, once the green started coming back, I'd watch the trees. You know, when you can see the start of the buds. I always liked to try to see that moment when it went from buds to leaves. I always wanted to see it. I wanted to notice it, I guess," she said sheepishly.

"You ever did?" Daryl asked.

"No," Beth said. "Every day when Daddy drove me into town I'd watch the trees and wait. And wait. And wait. But it always seemed to happen when I had my head turned. One day it was buds, and the next day, full blown leaves."

Beth turned her head to look back out the window. She had already missed it this year. The trees were in full bloom. They cast big, beautiful patches of shade to rest in when the sun got too hot or you needed to catch your breath. The birds made their homes in them, comforted by the awning the leaves would make for their homes. Suddenly Daryl Dixon laughed, softly, and mostly to himself.

"Why are you laughing?" Beth asked. "You put me on the spot, you can't expect some grand story -"

"It's not that, girl," Daryl said, smirking over at her. "It just sounded like you, is all."

"What do you mean?"

"The noticin' things. You do that a lot. I've seen ya."

"Never noticed you noticing me," Beth replied.

"Maybe I'm better at it than you."

"What aren't you better than me at?" Beth asked. "Weapons, hunting, tracking - you name it, Daryl Dixon can do it."

"I ain't good at being alone," he said so quietly she wasn't sure she had heard him correctly.

It was the rare moment Daryl shared his feelings. He was a shell she had just been beginning to crack open before she had been taken. She liked to think he was getting used to having her around, maybe not hating it as much as he liked to pretend. He had almost admitted so that night, right before everything had changed. She hadn't even gotten to taste her own victory.

"You're stronger than you think, Daryl."

"I know I'm strong. I do what I need to," Daryl said, not taking his eyes off the road. "But I ain't never been strong enough to be alone. I followed Merle around as a kid - then I stuck with the group after Merle was gone. I fell in with some bad people after I lost ya, Beth. I ain't proud of it."

"Daryl..." Beth started, not sure what to say.

"I wasn't with 'em long. Found Rick and Carl and Michonne. We had to... it doesn't matter. But, girl, I ain't ever gonna be as strong as you. Alone all this time..."

"Stop," she said softly.

"You've got the kind o'strength... I don't know how to say it right..."

"So don't," Beth insisted.

"Alright," Daryl said, looking as though he was biting the inside of his cheek. Suddenly he pointed a little ways up and announced, "look at that one."

Beth followed his finger to the tree. She immediately saw which one he was talking about. In the middle of the field, standing all alone, was an oak tree. Its leaves were somewhere in between tight buds and blossoming. Suddenly a smile broke out on Beth's face, startling her as much as it seemed to Daryl.

"It's beautiful," Beth said.

"Yeah," Daryl said looking at her. "It's a damn sight, ain't it?"