A/N Thank you all so much for reading, reviewing, following, favoriting. It means a lot. In this chapter we're going to discover a little more about what's going on with Daryl Dixon, it's a complicated situation. As dark as things may seem now, there will be light.

Daryl

I couldn't believe Merle was makin' me go out on my own, he knew I wasn't ready, but it was that VA doctor that pushed him to it. Doc's always wantin' me to do shit I don't wanna do. I ain't ready. I don't wanna live in a house by myself. Course I don't wanna live in a house with no one else either, just Merle and Carol and Sophia and James.

Merle promised me I just got to do this for six months then if I can't take it anymore, I get to move back home with him and Carol. That's what I'm lookin' forward to, goin' home to them. They're my family, I need 'em.

Merle has always looked out for me, yeah, he's messed with me plenty, teasin' at me and calling me girl names, dumb shit like that, but he never hurt me, and he damn sure never let anyone else bother me, he even tried hard to keep the old man away from me, but Merle couldn't be there all the time. He was off to the Army as soon as he hit 17. But when he got back, he got his business started up, and he kept me with him. I know he's scared for me, and it ain't like I don't wanna get my head back on, but damn. I can't seem to get there.

Beth, she seems real nice. Course I's embarrassed as all fuckin' get out when I woke up and she was in my room. I swore and got mad and all, and I shouldn't a done that, but fuck, I just woke up from a hard sleep, and another one a them fuckin' nightmares, and I sure didn't expect to see a pretty little blond there with me.

She is awful pretty, I like her hair a lot, and she's got those pretty blue eyes. She's way outta my league. No one like her would ever want anythin' to do with a totally fucked up piece a shit like me. Nah, she's the type a gal who should be with a doctor or a lawyer, not a loser who can't get it together. But before she finds that guy, and before I move back in with Merle, I sure am gonna enjoy listenin' to her sing. That, and just lookin' at her pretty self when she don't even know I'm lookin'. Course she's always lookin' at me too, I ain't sure why.

I still think I done the right thing when I joined the Army. What the hell else was I gonna do? Well, yeah, Merle wanted me to come to work for him full time, but I'd been working there every day after school and all summer ever since I's 14, seemed like I ought to try sumthin' different out. I's tryin' to be adventurous. It was something, but I wouldn't call it an adventure.

That wasn't the way it always was. Merle had been a sharpshooter when he went in the Army, and shit Merle knows how to do damn near everythin', but I'm still a better shot, with a pistol, a rifle, a shotgun or a bow, hell, even a damn throwin' knife. So I figured that's what I'd be good at in the Army. I had no idea what I's in for. They seen me shoot, and then they found out about my trackin' skills. That wasn't anythin' I'd ever actually studied at, but it was just sumthin' I's naturally good at. And they wanted me in Rangers, and I wanted it too. It was good, and I did real good. Shit, everythin' was just peachy, 'til that day with my best bud Tommy Wayne Johnson. That there? That was the worst fuckin' day a my life, worse even than when Mama sent herself up in flames, yeah, that's the day that changed me forever, that's the day everyone is always wantin' me to talk about, and that's the day I ain't ever gonna talk about, never.

Merle

Damn I felt so guilty, but the doc told me, if I kept takin' care of Daryl, Daryl was never gonna take care of himself again. And I went along, mostly. I seen the apartment come up for rent, but I made Daryl make the call, talk ta the landlord, reminded him he was a man and I couldn't keep doin' everythin' for him. But there's no way I'm just gonna leave him there, not check on him n make sure he's okay. Daryl's my baby brother, I'm responsible for him. There's just no fuckin' way I'ma walk away from the boy, not now, not ever. And Carol, she agrees, Daryl needs someone lookin' out for him.

I picked him up that first Sunday mornin' after he moved in, ta take him back to our place to eat and visit. I wasn't gonna risk just tellin' him ta come over, there's too many possible pitfalls. Daryl drinks too much when he ain't workin', Doc says it's just another one a them PTSD things. It ain't outta the question he'd be a few beers in by 11 on a Sunday mornin'. Better'n drugs I s'pose.

Little Brother, he does just fine when it comes ta work, it's about the only thing he likes anymore. The boy always has loved motorcycles, and it's like he finds some kinda peace workin' on 'em. But anythin' else, sometimes Daryl just gets kinda overwhelmed.

But I gotta focus on the positive, Daryl ain't in the hospital anymore, he's made it this far. I'd been thinkin' it might never happen, he was practically catatonic when he first come back from that war, I don't know what the boy seen or done, but it's gone right ta the core of him, it has a grip on him n the boy can't shake it.

He was always kinda shy n awkward, not a big loudmouth like me. Daryl never much cared for folks talkin' ta him, n there's even fewer he'd say a word to. I swear, half the time Little Brother seems ta communicate in nuthin' more than a series of shrugs, grunts, and one word responses, "uhhuh" or "nah."

The little blond who rented him the place seemed real nice, I'm hopin' if Daryl starts his screamin' in the middle a the night she won't decide she can't live with that, n he'll have ta go. It's just more a that PTSD stuff, we understand that better now, me, Carol and the kids, we got used to it. I'd just sit there by his bed n try talkin' him awake. But it's different, we know him, love him. This little gal don't know Daryl from Adam.

xxxx

When Merle picked Daryl up on that first Sunday, it put his mind at ease a little about that. He told Merle he'd been awakened by the woman, she was in her nightgown telling him to wake up, it was only a dream. It seems she'd just gotten the extra key and gone right on in, scared for him, and she'd apologized for that. The boy was beside himself embarrassed, but Merle just felt relieved. Obviously she was a good person. That brought some comfort to Merle. He told little brother, "Nuthin' ta be embarrassed about son, lotsa folks get bad nightmares, sounds like she was just concerned for ya, that was real nice."

And now, three weeks later, Daryl told him that Friday night she asked him to come on over and listen to a song she wrote, and then she played him some other songs too, and they had a couple a beers. And he told Merle she sang real nice, and she knew good songs, but he'd started to feel like he couldn't breathe, he was scared he was gonna have a full on anxiety attack, and he told her he had to go. "Well that was real good though son, ya got out, ya done sumthin', even if it was just for a little while. And Beth, she sounds like good people."

"Yeah, Merle, she's real nice." And then he was chewing on the side a that thumb like he might chew the damn thing right off.

But Merle had a little glimmer of hope, maybe this woman could draw the boy out, she'd gotten him to do something, and that was a start.

One week later

Monday night he got home at 6:30, just like he always did. But unlike any other Monday, this Monday there was a lidded pot in front of his door. A note scotch taped to the top read, "Hi Daryl, I was craving chicken and dumplings, and dang, I only know how to make the family size portion, so I hope you'll share. L, Beth."

What the hell did the 'L" mean? He had no fuckin' idea, but damn, that smelled good. A lot better than that fast food cheeseburger he'd brought home. He went in, washed up, and he ate right from the pot, and it was the best fuckin' meal he'd ever had in his life. Course he wouldn't tell Carol that part, cuz Carol had been so good to him, she'd cooked him a million real nice meals, but this here? This was his idea of heaven. Hell, he hadn't even cracked a beer yet and it was nearly seven.

Beth was nervous about trying it, but Mama and Grandma had always told her, the surest way to a man's heart was through his stomach. She figured it was worth a shot, and besides, she could go for a little plate of chicken and dumplings herself. She was peeking out the window when he got home, and sure enough, he took the pot in. She hoped he liked it, it had to be better for him than that fast food stuff he always brought home.

She wasn't sure she wanted him in a romantic kind of way, but there was definitely something about him she wanted, he intrigued her, and he was so handsome, and so shy. Oh sure, she knew he was damaged, but how could she fault him for that? She knew how deep pain could run, after all, she was just barely climbing up out of her own Deep Blue Funk. And there was something, something pulling her toward him, like a little tugging at her heart. Yeah, she said to herself, I have no idea what I'm doing here, but my whole life I've just sat back and let life happen, well now I'm going to make things happen in my life.

The next morning when she opened the door the pot was sitting there freshly washed, the note was taped back on top and he'd written his own message on it, "Thanks, it was real good. Daryl." And the way her heart just did a back flip you would have thought it said, "I worship you, please marry me and let's run off to Fiji."

She made her mind up about something right then, she was going all out, but she didn't want to put pressure on him. It was obvious being social didn't come easy to Daryl Dixon, and she had no intention of scaring him off.

Wednesday night there was another pot in front of his door, again there was a note taped to it, this one said, "I really hope you like stew Daryl because I don't know what I was thinking, but dang, I made a ton. Please help me get rid of it! L, Beth."

And this time he shook his head a little, picked it up and again, washed up fast, took a big spoon and started eating right from the pot. But he was wondering, "What's she after?" Cuz Daryl couldn't believe someone would be nice just to be nice, or neighborly, or whatever. People only did something nice for you cuz they wanted something out of you, but what could she want outta him? Someone to work on her car? Do her yard work? Beat up her ex-boyfriend? He didn't know but he wasn't gonna do it, and he wasn't takin' no hand-outs either.

The next morning the clean pot was in front of her door with the note taped to it, and a $20 bill. The message said, "It was real good, but I can't give you anything, and I don't accept charity, I pay my own way. Thanks, Daryl."

That threw her for a loop. Was he offended because she'd shared with him? What could he possibly think she wanted in return? Was he really so jaded that he couldn't accept an act of kindness? She wasn't sure, but she was going to find out.

That night she waited until he got home, she waited exactly five minutes after he walked in. Then she went over there and she had something she was pretty dang sure he'd like, and she knocked loudly on the door.

He opened it a moment later and said, "Yeah?"

"Well hello to you too Daryl. I felt the need to come over and get something cleared up with you. I've made some homemade salsa and I have some chips, also a nice bottle of wine, for me, I know you like beer, I prefer wine. I think you should invite me in, and we should get a couple of things worked out."

Daryl didn't know what to say or do, he didn't interact well with females even before he got broken. So he just shrugged and answered, "K."

"Thank you, where would you like me to set the chips and stuff?" She looked at him and again he just shrugged. So she opened her bag, pulled them out, and set them on the coffee table. "I opened the wine at my place, I don't think you're a wine drinker and I didn't know if you'd have a corkscrew." And she gave him a broad smile, "But I could sure use a glass."

He looked at her, hard, "Whaddya want from me girl? I got nuthin' to give you. I'm a fuckin' mess. I can't even take care a myself, what the hell do you think I'ma do for you?" He stormed to the kitchen and a minute later he was shoving a glass in her hand.

She was proud of how she was able to keep her cool, act like he hadn't just really stunned her, she didn't think he was trying to upset her, she thought he was just under some kind of self-imposed pressure. "Well Daryl, as boring as this might sound I'm trying to be neighborly with you, friendly. We live next door to each other, I thought it would be nice if we could have a friendly relationship. I haven't been in Savannah long and I haven't made any friends yet, but maybe you have all the friends you need." And she shrugged and poured herself a glass of wine.

He didn't say anything, he just went in the kitchen and got himself a beer. She'd opened the chips and the container with the salsa. "I got a cheeseburger on the way home, but I just got the one, didn't know you was comin' over." Now that was impressive, he may be having some kind of breakdown but he still had manners.

"Daryl, please eat your burger, that won't bother me at all. I just had a tuna sandwich." That wasn't exactly true, it was more like noon, but she didn't want to keep him from eating his dinner.

"You don't wanna be my friend Beth, I ain't a good friend. My friends? They die."

She was a little shocked, well no, she was quite shocked, but she tried hard to maintain a poker face, although that didn't matter either, because he wasn't even looking at her. He was just checking out those darn shoes.

She felt heaviness deep in her heart for him. She could tell he was hurting so badly, and that whatever it was that was hurting him, he wasn't ready to share that yet, heck, maybe he never would be. She wasn't going to press him. She'd been through her own trauma, the last thing a person wanted was more pressure.

She thought the best thing to do was change the subject, then get the heck out and let him get drunk or whatever he needed to do. "I've been on a real songwriting binge lately, I have so many new ones it's kind of exciting. You got me so interested in old school country again, I guess I'd just kind of forgotten how great the older songs were. So anyway, I've really started to write a lot of stuff in the genre."

And now she felt a little embarrassed because, well let's face it, she'd been babbling. But he really surprised her when he said, you know, to his shoes, "I'd really like to hear yer songs. You write good ones and you got a real soothin' kinda voice. I like it."

"Really, well you let me know when you'd like to hear them, because I'd love to play them for you." She was all smiles now. Relieved the tension seemed to be broken.

"Uh, don't know, maybe tomorrow? It's Friday and all. I mean, if you ain't busy or anythin'. I could come to yer place, you know, case I need to leave or sumthin'." And she didn't ask what that meant because she was pretty sure she knew. Life on life's terms could be just a little too much for Daryl Dixon and his Deep Blue Funk.

"That would be perfect Daryl, we'll have some dinner, and it won't be anything fancy, and you don't owe me anything, but if you wanted to bring wine, well, I'd probably drink it. How's that?" She smiled at him, and he even looked at her, only for a second, but it was something.

"K, sounds fair, oh, and nice. Sorry, I forget my manners a lot."

Oh my gawd, this man. What was she doing? She didn't know but she wasn't going to stop, because although Daryl Dixon had the worst case of Deep Blue Funk she'd ever seen, and he seemed screwed up almost beyond hope, there was something about the man. She just felt it, if he ever could breakaway from whatever had a grip on him she knew, deep in her own wounded heart, he was an incredibly good soul with an equally incredible heart. She wanted so badly to get there with him.

He couldn't believe he'd agreed to dinner and listening to music. He had no fucking business hanging out with this woman. But dammit, she was like that old song said, she was sunshine on a cloudy day. And if there was one thing he needed, it was some sunshine in his life. She didn't pressure him, or ask him a lot of questions. She let him just be. He liked that about her. Well, and she was awful damn pretty, no denying that.

A/N Just a little progress, but any progress is a good thing. The next chapter is going to be a wild ride, it'll be posting next week. Thanks so much for reading, please let me know your thoughts xo

FYI - I am not an expert in PTSD. I do know there are many different symptoms, and no two people are the same. It's my intent to respect those who suffer, but please keep in mind, this is a work of fiction.