A/N Thank you all so much for hanging in with me, you're the greatest. This one is definitely a bumpy ride, let's see how Daryl, Beth and their wounded hearts are doing.
It was Friday after work and he was surprised, he was kind of looking forward to going to her place. He never cared much for going anywhere anymore. Just work. He hadn't even been in the woods in months, and that used to be his favorite place, the perfect place. Doc had told him it was common with PTSD, yep, just another symptom: Lack of interest in activities you once enjoyed. Swell.
He'd been real nervous but Merle told him that mornin' at work, "Daryl she wouldn't a ask ya if she didn't want ya there. Ya said she don't put no pressure on ya, so don't put it on yerself. Just go, try ta relax n enjoy, and just be you little brother cuz maybe ya forgot, but yer a pretty great guy. Shit, maybe she sees what ya don't kid." And Merle had clapped him on the back and he felt a little better.
He'd paid attention to that wine she brought, so when he stopped at the store after work he just played it safe and got the same kind, and a sixer for himself.
He got to his place, washed his face and hands and put on a clean shirt. Now he was feeling a little nervous again, but he took a few deep breaths and tried to calm himself, then he hurried over there before he chickened out.
She looked so pretty. She had on some tight blue jeans and some kind of tank top thing. Her hair was in a funny looking ponytail, kind of like it was going sideways but he liked it, it looked real cute. She smiled that big smile at him, and he liked that too. It was a genuine one. Genuine meant a lot to Daryl Dixon.
He gave her the bottle of wine and he shrugged, "Just got you what you were drinkin' last night, cuz yer right, I don't know anythin' about wine. But I do know how to open it, and I'd open that for you."
She smiled and said, "This is perfect Daryl, thank you, and thanks for noticing." And she handed him the corkscrew.
She'd kept the dinner low key, she wasn't about to overwhelm him with some fancy meal. She'd fried a chicken, made some mashed potatoes and gravy, and corn. She had a feeling Daryl Dixon liked his food like he liked his music, old school. And she was right, he dug right in.
"This is real good Beth best fried chicken I ever ate, better even than Carol's, but don't tell her I said that, I wouldn't hurt her feelin's for nuthin'." And he shoveled in a big bite of potatoes and gravy.
No. He couldn't have a girlfriend could he? He always seemed to be home or at work. "Well I would never tell, but who's Carol?" She smiled.
"Merle's wife, ya know, my brother. She's a real nice lady, she's real special." And he nodded his head as if confirming that.
After dinner he suggested, "I could wash the dishes and you could dry 'em, it goes faster that way." She was impressed.
She smiled at him, "Thank you Daryl." He shrugged and she swore he blushed a little.
He didn't seem too uncomfortable, and she was thinking so far so good. It was probably the most she'd ever heard him talk. Although he didn't seem exactly relaxed, he did seem a little more at ease than usual.
She kept the conversation going while they did the clean-up. "I'm excited to play you my new songs Daryl, but I have to confess, I'm never sure if they're good, or if I just think they're good because they came from my heart, from my own feelings. Does that make sense?"
"Yeah I get that. You got a real nice voice, makes me feel kinda peaceful-like and I don't ever feel that way, and that one song you wrote, I liked it a lot. I wouldn't mind hearin' that one again."
"Oh my gosh Daryl thank you so much, you have no idea how nice it is to hear that. If it turns out you like these songs, I could make you a CD, I mean, you know, if you wanted it." She was beaming now, and she was pink in the cheeks and he was trying not to look at her too much because he didn't want to get too anxious, then he'd have to go home.
They made quick work of the kitchen and she asked him, "Would you rather sit on the front porch, the back porch, or in the living room? I'm happy with any of them, but I know you smoke, so you might prefer outside."
She was so nice, thoughtful, were people really that nice? "Um yeah, can we go out back maybe, if that's alright?"
And so they did, and she played him her three new songs. He didn't sit in the chair, he sat on the porch, knees up and leaning his head against the post. His eyes were closed like he was listening intently. In that moment he did look almost peaceful, and she thought he was feeling the music. But as much as she was attracted to this man she also knew it probably wasn't ever going to work. She couldn't see how he'd ever climb up out of whatever it was that had pushed him down so far. But she didn't have anything else she wanted to do more than hang out with Daryl Dixon, so she was going to just ride along and see how it all played out.
He was sitting there with his eyes closed enjoying the soothing quality of her voice, but also paying close attention to the lyrics of her songs. Although they didn't seem really sad on the surface of them, there was something there for sure, a kind of deep sorrow behind those lyrics and he wondered how that could be legit. Suddenly he felt angry. Just look at her, she was young, pretty, had her own place, she didn't even have a real job. And she seemed happy. What did she know about sadness, about pain? How could she know about gut-wrenching sorrow, about loss? Maybe she wasn't genuine like he'd thought. Maybe he'd been taken in by her just because she was a pretty girl that had paid attention to him.
Quickly the whole thing just got to be too much, he had to get out of here. He jumped up so fast he startled her, "Gotta go girl, thanks for dinner, it was real good. Yer songs were real good too, just not too believable comin' from a chick like you, what the hell could you know about sadness and pain? Yer words just ain't ringin' true, I ain't sure what yer up to, but don't play me." And just like that he hopped over that backyard wall and he was gone.
She was stunned. She had no idea what had brought that on. How could he say those things to her? He had no idea about her life. How could he just assume she didn't know anything about pain and sadness, or imply that she had some sort of motive?
And the more thought she gave it, the angrier she became with him, and in her anger she acted. Maybe not like she should have, but you know, sometimes when you're angry you don't really think about what you're doing.
And just like that, she hopped over that little wall too, and she went right up to that back porch door, and she banged on it like she was trying to beat it down.
He opened the door and the look on his face was as angry as the look on her face. "The fuck ya want Miss Sunshine?"
"You're being a jackass Daryl. Do you want to tell me what the hell that was all about?!"
"Yeah sure, I'll tell you what it's about. Yer writin' and singin' them songs like you know sumthin' about pain, sumthin' about how life can just jump up outta nowhere and stab you right in the fuckin' heart, break yer spirit and then break yer mind. You can't even begin to know about that shit Sunshine. So quit bein' a goddamn phony tryin' to get to me!" She swore he might start breathing fire next, but she was every bit as angry as him.
"How dare you Daryl Dixon, you have no idea the things I've been through in my life. How can you just assume I've been living on easy street and you're the only one who knows anything about pain? You're the pain, a big pain in the ass. Sitting around crying in your beer every night because you're afraid of life."
And damn if he didn't get right up in her face and point a finger right at her in anger and he yelled, "I ain't afraid a nuthin'!"
She stood her ground, "That's bullshit Daryl. You're full of shit. And just for the record, you really hurt my feelings, and you made me dredge up a lot of pain I thought I'd worked through, now I realize I'm not quite there yet."
And he just kept pushing the knife in deeper, "What? Some college boy break yer heart n you just can't get over gettin' yer ass dumped?"
For the first time in her life she wanted to punch someone. Those feelings she thought she'd mastered were all fresh again, and he was being so mean, and he'd just discounted her completely, tears were running from her eyes, but she didn't let that stop her, she let him have it with both barrels, "You're such an ass Dixon. You don't know anything. In one day I lost my Daddy, Mama and Brother. I was in a big emotional pit, just like you're in yours. The difference between you and me Daryl Dixon is, I didn't take mine out on everyone else, I took it out on myself. Quit thinking you're the only one who knows about pain. You're not." She was crying harder.
Daryl knew he was a jerk, he didn't know what to say to her and his own emotions were raw, he turned around and he had his head down, and damn if he wasn't crying too, and as mad as she was at him, and as much as she wanted to hate him, hit him, and tell him to go screw himself, she went up behind him and tried to hug him, at first he pushed her hand aside, but she didn't give up, she hugged him hard, laid her head on his back, and they both cried. And she heard him say, real softly, but she heard it, "Shoulda been able to do sumthin', I shoulda been able to save them. To save Tommy Wayne. I never wanted to be the last man standin'."
xxxx
They'd both calmed down now and seemed to be a little more at peace. They were back on her porch. Daryl was drinking beers and she was having her wine.
"'M sorry I said them things, there's no excuse for that. I'm a dick." He actually looked at her now, and gave her a small half smile.
"Okay, well it happened and we both said things we shouldn't have, mean things, I'm very sorry too. I'm just going to try and get passed it." She shrugged. She did want to move passed this, but she didn't know how they could. Maybe they'd been too mean to one another. Still, she believed Daryl Dixon was a good person with a badly wounded heart, she wasn't ready to give up on him quite yet.
And then he surprised her again, "I shouldn't have assumed I knew about yer life, I's wrong. Maybe me more than anyone else, I shoulda understood better. What happened Beth, to you, to yer family? I mean if you wanna tell."
And she told him her story. He never interrupted, never said anything, he just listened.
He looked right in her eyes then, more intently than he ever had, "What happened, that'd be real hard to go through Beth. I feel bad for all of it, for you n your family. You done a good job a gettin' right. I ain't that strong."
"Oh I think you are Daryl, maybe you're just not ready yet. Maybe you've got to trust someone enough to tell them your story, I don't think you can work it out in your own head until you can say it out loud to at least one other person, you're just going to have to find that one person you trust enough to tell."
"What if I can't?"
"You have to, you have to get yourself back. So you can live. You have to try." And they just looked at each other.
"Yeah, maybe you gotta keep remindin' me a that." And he smiled that shy little half smile at her. And she thought, this is the most relaxed I've ever seen the man, maybe he just needed to yell, and scream, and cry to feel better. And she wondered who Tommy Wayne was. In fact she had a lot of questions, but she wasn't going to ask them all, not yet. So she kept it simple.
"What was your job in the Army Daryl?" That seemed harmless, so his answer surprised her a little.
"I don't think I wanna talk about that, k?"
"Okay, so how old are you?"
"I'll soon be 26, how old are you?"
"I'm going to be 22." Then she added softly, "Sometimes I feel 122, but I'm getting better, my life is getting better."
"What did you call it, blue sumthin'?"
She smiled at him then, "My Deep Blue Funk. Now I feel that I've shifted to just a Powder Blue Funk, so, you know it's better. It gets better."
"Sounds nice, but I don't think it's gonna happen for me that way." That sounded so incredibly sad to her, and yet he looked oddly at peace with it, like he'd just given up, accepted that his life would always be sad. How terrible would that be?
xxxx
She'd been so proud of herself because ever since that first time, when she'd heard him screaming and thrashing about in his room, she'd stayed out of it. As hard as it was she'd stayed in her own place and just said a prayer for him. Sometimes it would last for what seemed like an extraordinarily long time, other bouts were a bit shorter. All of them sounded frightening and frankly, it was heartbreaking.
But after the crazy up and down night they'd had, and all of the emotions that had played out, when she heard the screaming and the thrashing start she knew she had to go to him. Maybe he'd be angry but she was taking her chances.
She got the key and went into his apartment. If anything the nightmare seemed to be escalating. She went to his room and stood there beside his bed, "Daryl, Daryl please wake up, please, Daryl wake up, it's a nightmare, please." And she just kept talking to him, repeating those words over and over.
Finally he woke, he was startled to see her there, "The fuck Beth? What're you doin' girl? You know you ain't s'posed to do this, it's my fuckin' place Beth." But the truth was he seemed more sad than angry.
"I know Daryl, I know and I'm sorry, but I just couldn't let you go through that alone again it sounds so scary, and my heart breaks for you when I hear it. Please don't be angry with me, please. I'm just trying to be your friend Daryl."
"Told you Beth, you don't wanna be my friend, I ain't a good friend. Only friends I ever had, they're all dead. I can't be anyone's friend."
"I'm willing to take a chance Daryl," by now she was lying next to him. Oddly, it didn't seem sexy, or romantic, it just seemed like they were drawing a little comfort from one another.
Then he rolled over on his side, back to her. In the light filtering in from outside, she could see the terrible lash marks, and the demons that were tattooed there. She knew that as horrifying as those scars on his back were, the ones on his heart and his soul were worse. He spoke, "I ain't gonna talk mean to you like that ever again Beth. 'M sorry I did, it was every kind of wrong, you ain't been nuthin' but real nice to me. Sometimes I just go off, lose my temper, start overreactin' and yellin'. I done that to you, and you didn't deserve anythin' like that. I don't think I can be a friend, don't know how anymore. If I hurt you, ya know yer feelings n all, then kick me outta here. I don't wanna be mean to you, ever."
She really had no idea what to say to that, she just knew she couldn't recall anyone ever sounding so sad, so much like they were completely drowning in some deep sorrow. It made tears come to her eyes, she fought to keep them from falling, and she didn't say anything, she just put an arm around his waist and lay her head on his back.
He usually didn't like anyone touching him, but he liked the feel of her arm around him. And he was surprised she hadn't said anything about the scars, nothing. Usually when someone got a look they'd gasp at least, even if they caught themselves after. Some expressed pity, or they'd seem repulsed by the look of him. But she had put her arm around him, and she laid that pretty blond head right against the mess that was him. Could she really be as special as she seemed?
They woke about 6:00am. It was awkward but she smiled at him, "See you later Daryl."
He just glanced up quickly, "Yeah, k, see you later, thanks Beth."
And she got herself out of there, and back in her own house and her own bed. She lay there thinking about all the events of the evening and the night before. This man, he was like the most complicated puzzle in the world. There was just so much about him she didn't understand, but she did know he was badly damaged, and if she had the sense God gave a goose she'd walk away. But she knew she couldn't, no matter what happened she knew she couldn't just walk away from Daryl Dixon.
He lay there in his bed for a while after she left. He was thinking about all the things that had happened between them in the past several hours. He'd been a fuckin' asshole and she'd been real sweet. 'Course she was a little ball a fire when she got pissed at him, but he had it comin', she was right, he was a jackass. And it kind of made him smile, and feel oddly proud of her because she'd stood right up to him, hadn't backed down, she totally pulled his cover. But he knew he wasn't good for her. Didn't deserve her as a friend, hell, didn't deserve her being in his life. He knew he was broken, he knew he'd probably never be fixed, and he knew he should stay away from her. But there was just something about her, the way she spoke, the way she smiled, the comfort he felt when she wrapped her arm around him. Damn, he didn't deserve to have her around, but he wanted her to be around.
xxxx
She finally gave up trying to get any more sleep, maybe a nap later, and she got up, got dressed, and thought she'd tidy up the house and do a couple of things before she went to Maggie and Glenn's for pancakes.
She heard his motorcycle start up and drive off. About 40 minutes later she heard the bike again. She peeked out the window and she saw the case of beer bungeed on the back, and he pulled a couple of bags of chips out of the saddlebag, but then she saw, he also had a bottle of wine. She just smiled. It wasn't much, but it was something, they were moving forward.
A/N It was a wild ride, but it seems to have brought Daryl and Beth closer. Thank you for reading, I'd appreciate your comments and reviews xo
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.