AUTHOR'S NOTE: So... who missed me?
"I was wondering," Beth started, her wet hair drying in long ropes down her shoulders, "is the plan to stay here then? Like... long-term?"
"Good'a place as any," Daryl said. "Shouldn't move 'round too much if you don't wanna come 'cross anyone."
Beth hummed a little to herself and rested her hands on the oak table. Daryl noted that her nails had been scrubbed clean - hell, girl probably washed behind her ears, too. He smirked a little to himself, using the soup cans scattered on the table to make a tower.
"I probably wouldn't be much good runnin' around anyways," Beth muttered.
"You're getting there," Daryl said. "You'll be fixed up before y'know it."
"It's just hard," Beth replied. "Just sittin' around. Too much time to think. When... before... I would keep moving until I dropped. I miss that."
Daryl knew what she meant. For a long time after his brother died, that was exactly what Daryl had done. Just keep moving. Man the fences. Get supplies. Help people. Just keep moving. Because when he stopped his thoughts got dark - well, got darker. And when he laid down to sleep, there was nothing but his aching body and the night.
"You should come on the next hunt," Daryl said. "We don't hafta go too far."
"We're not even out of canned goods yet though," Beth commented.
"Ain't the point," he said gruffly. "You want out again, I'll get ya out, Beth."
"Can I use the crossbow?" she asked with a slight smile.
"Y'can try, but your arms look even punier than last time. Ain't got no clue how you hope to hold it up."
"Stronger than I look," she said.
"Ain't that the truth," he shot back, eyes scanning her face.
"So, how cold was the water?" she asked, referring to his swim in the lake earlier.
"You don't wanna know, Beth," he said. "Not when you'll be going in there soon enough."
"God, please, don't remind," Beth said, drawing the edges of her sweater closer to her body. "It was really nice, you know. The bath."
"Smelled like a gaden in there when you were done."
"You smell like a garden too - we used the same soap."
"Yeah," he said easily. "Guess I do."
"I still can't believe you did that for me."
"Cause I never do nice things for ya," Daryl teased.
"You do nice things for me all the time - they just don't always involve bubbles."
"Well, don't get used to it," Daryl said; but he knew if it would make her smile, make her feel just a little bit better, he would do it every day - blisters and pain be damned. And he didn't want to question too closely why her happiness was so damn important to him. He just knew that it was.
"I wouldn't dream of it, Mr. Dixon," Beth replied jokingly.
They settled into an easy silence. After a while, Beth held up a can of beans to him, to which he nodded. Picking up his crossbow, he went outside to start them a fire. Nothing worse than cold beans. Beth searched the kitchen for the can opener and a clean pot. It was a practiced dance they both knew the steps too; comforting and familiar.
Once they got the beans on, Daryl watched the flames. He remembered when he was younger that there were people who claimed they could see the future in them. All he could see were the bright colours bleeding into one another while his eyes watered from the smoke.
"Do you miss them?" Beth asked from beside him on the grass. Her voice was small and quiet.
"That's life," he said. "You're always missin' someone. I had you, but I was missin' everyone else. Then I had everyone else, but I was missin' you. Maggie had Sasha but was missin' Glenn. Then she had Glenn but was missin' you. It's always somethin'."
"I guess that's true," Beth said, resting her chin on her knees. "I just feel bad, keeping you from them."
"You ain't keepin' me from no one, girl," he said. "I'm a man. I go where I want when I want. If I wanted to go, I would."
"You might be a man, Daryl Dixon, but you're a good one. Even if you wanted to leave me here, you couldn't. Not in this state."
"'cept I don't wanna leave you here, or anywhere, so there ain't no damn point discussing it."
"It was easier alone," she said quietly. "I'm glad you're here. I really am. But I feel bad because sometimes I miss it."
"Ain't no point in feelin' bad. I think anyone left knows it's easier alone. You don't lose no one; leave no one behind. You can disappear, turn into a monster, and no one will pull you back."
"I just feel like I don't know what it means to be me anymore," she said to the toes of her shoes.
"You're a person. You ain't a toaster, or a chair."
"Are the beans done?" she asked abruptly.
"Just 'bout," Daryl said, not letting her change in subject startle him. Frankly, he was amazed she was sharing with him at all. She had been so quiet since he'd found her. "You wanna get the plates?"
Suddenly Daryl felt Beth's small hand in his. Her skin was so soft compared to his. Heat flooded into his face and rushed down his body - he could even feel it in the soles of his feet. She squeezed his hand gently. For a second, Daryl thought to himself, I wish I could freeze this moment right here but he could feel the end of it coming the second she touched him.
"I just..." Beth said, taking her hand away, "... you know... thank you, Daryl."
"Just beans, girl," he said awkwardly, trying not to think of that second where his fingers itched to close around hers and hold her there with him, for just a little bit longer.