AN: Sorry for all of you out there who hate me now... but this story has a plan, and I would think by now y'all would know to look elsewhere for fluff and rainbows. Besides, if you've gotten this far, you live for the angst and you know it. Thank you, always, for your reviews and kind words. You're keeping this story alive.
Daryl, at Beth's request, gave her some time alone when they got back to the house. He saw her pick up the journal from the nightstand and sit down on the bed. Beth tucked her legs under her, and when she looked up and saw him still standing there, she gave him a small, tight smile.
"I'll be fine, Daryl," she said softly.
He gave a curt nod and closed the door behind him. All the thoughts that he had turned off in his mind to comfort her came roaring up; they were loud and insistent, chewing away at the gray matter. Beth was raped. Beth was tortured - almost killed. And now she's pregnant. Beth is pregnant. One of those fuckers - Beth is pregnant.
Daryl clenched his fist so tightly the knuckles cracked. She was up there, alone, and she was pregnant. His teeth sliced into the side of his cheek, biting angrily until his mouth filled with blood he didn't taste. Someone else had touched her, and she hadn't wanted it. She was small, and afraid, and crying. Beth's pale skin dark with bruises. Beth's bright eyes dark with fear. The sum of that nightmare growing inside of her.
He stomped outside, slamming the door with more force than necessary - it rocked and swayed on its hinges, creaking fiercely. Kill, the anger inside of him snarled. Daryl shook his head, breathing heavily. He scanned the yard around him, but found it empty. No walkers, no animals, nothing. Just him. And his heart, thundering. And the stars, like the world wasn't ending.
Daryl grabbed the logs sitting at the side of the house and threw them into the pit they had dug. Just make a fire, he told himself. Just make a fire and don't lose your shit, Dixon. He forgot himself in the process until the spark turned to flames and the wood went up.
While Beth was inside, fighting herself, going between the girl on the farm who would never consider abortion and the girl who knew the worst of the world and the men inside of it, Daryl watched the fire. Wished for a moment Maggie was there, or Rick, or Michonne; they were pillars in his mind, people with instinct, and goodness, where he was fumbling about for a sentence, maybe two, if he was lucky.
Beth deserved better - had always deserved better.
And now there was life inside of her. Some tiny heartbeat. And he couldn't imagine how she would make this decision. Daryl looked up at the window to see the lit candle still glowing. He hoped Beth wasn't crying. You're a piece of shit, he hurled at himself, if you could've just not fucked up keeping her safe, just once, this wouldn't have happened.
Daryl sat, and tried not to think about his mother, who had not wanted children; who had gotten drunk and told them as much, several times over. How he had felt her resentment towards him and his brother their whole lives, and had chased anything that could erase the feeling of not being wanted. If she had this baby, would it end up just like him, or like Merle? No, Beth would never... could never... he couldn't make his mother's words come out of Beth's mouth, not even in his imagination.
He couldn't make out how long it had been, an hour, maybe two, before Beth came down to sit with him. The fire had burned out a while ago, but Daryl had made no move to get another one going. She set a small hand on his shoulder, drawing him from his thoughts.
"I'm gonna keep it," she said quietly, "and it's going to be my baby."
"Alright," Daryl agreed.
Beth was silent for a long moment. She turned her eyes towards the burned out logs, as though they were still lit, and just stared. Daryl watched her wringing her hands nervously. He ached to reach out to her, but didn't want to interrupt the gathering up of her courage. Beth opened her mouth and shut it again, then once more before she spoke.
"And, I was hopin', that you... I mean, I wouldn't want them to know... and if anything happened, I would want to know they'd have a parent... so, would it be okay..."
"It's mine," Daryl said with a gruffness that contrasted how tenderly he put his hand on her stomach. "Y'don't have to think about it again, Beth. This baby will be mine and yours."
She seemed to relax at his words. Beth's knotted up shoulders unfurled and she slouched down a little. Daryl could make out the blush of pink against her cheeks. She smiled at him, her lips trembling slightly, as though she might just cry.
Daryl brought his hand up to her face. He traced a thumb down the length of her cheek. Beth turned into his touch, nuzzling slightly against his hand. Daryl felt the action down to his toes - the warmth of her skin, the breathlessness of her affection.
"Is this alright?" he asked her softly.
"Yes," she answered.
"And this?" Daryl asked as he brought his other hand up to cradle the back of her neck.
"Mmm," she hummed softly, eyes fluttering shut.
"No, girl," he said gently. "Look at me."
By the time Beth's eyes opened again, he had brought his face close to hers. Daryl could feel her breath on his face. He leaned in to touch his forehead against hers. Beth did not pull away.
"Beth, I..." he started, "I want to..."
Beth nodded.
Daryl brought their lips together gently. He felt her breath catch and release. Imagined his was doing the same. He kissed her slowly, cautiously, until her mouth opened to him. Even then, Daryl contented himself with nibbling and sucking on her bottom lip, not wanting to go too fast - not wanting to listen to the call of his body that was telling him more and now; but when Beth moaned all that kept him in check was burying his hand in her blonde hair.
When they pulled apart, Beth slid easily underneath his arm, and they sat there like that for a long while; drawing heat from each other's bodies, drawing light from each other's hearts.