Hello again. It has taken me awhile to post this chapter because I haven't had internet access. Daryl and Beth are such fun characters to write about and I really enjoyed going into their past a bit, I hope you enjoy!
Beth's POV
The crickets chirped from out in the woods. There wasn't a single moan of a walker, making the night seem almost peaceful. Both Daryl and Beth were emotionally worn out after their fight earlier in the day and Daryl's breakdown. Beth glanced over at Daryl, who sat opposite to her on the porch. He was staring off into the darkness, the slight wind was causing his long hair to fall into his face. Beth couldn't help but notice that Daryl was very attractive, if she were ten years older, maybe she would have had a chance with him. As it was, Beth was very happy just to be there with him. Daryl is a good guy. Beth had always known that, but after watching him breakdown today, she realized just how much he cared about her and everyone in the group. Beth reached down and picked up the jar of moonshine at her side. After a quick drink, Beth set it back down. Daryl quit staring out at the woods and started fidgeting with his knife, sticking it into the boards of the porch and twisting it around. Beth could tell he was a little bit uncomfortable after her seeing him cry. Beth wished she could tell him that seeing him like that didn't make her think any less of him, but she doubted he would believe it. The way Daryl had been raised, he had been taught to think that tears were weakness, for pussies. Beth had also gotten a lot of inside into his life when he had gone on his rant and she doubted that most people knew as much about Daryl as she did now. Daryl wasn't making eye contact and Beth imagined that he regretted showing so much of his past life and feelings while he was drunk. Beth wondered if her father had done similar things when he had gotten drunk. Hershel had quit drinking soon after Beth was born, only Maggie really remembered it, but she never talked about any of the incidences.
"I can see why my father stopped drinking," Beth said as she thought back on their crazy evening. Daryl glanced up and looked straight into her eyes for the first time since they had come to sit on the porch. "But I wish I could feel like this all the time," Beth added, enjoying the buzz in her head and her lack of worry and fear. "You're lucky you are a happy drunk," Daryl replied. Beth's hands clinched a little, remembering all the things Daryl had yelled at her. Then she unwound them, when she recollected some of what she had had yelled back. "Yeah," Beth answered, "real lucky. Some people can be real jerks when they drink." Beth smiled to show Daryl that there were no hard feelings, they had both said things they didn't mean. Daryl started using the knife on the wooden railing in front of him. Beth could tell he felt bad about what he had said to her earlier. Finally, in a gruff voice he said, "Yeah, I'm a dick when I'm drunk." He looked up at Beth and she felt that he was apologizing in the only way he knew how. She nodded at him and the tension between them suddenly cleared.
For a while, Daryl just picked at the wood with his knife. His biceps flexed with each jab, he had amazing arms. Beth shook her head; the moonshine must be getting to her. Suddenly, Daryl began talking. "Merle had this group of guys he hung out with. One was this little white guy called Tweeker. One day, we were over at his house. It wasn't even noon yet and we were all wasted, Merle was high." Daryl hung his head and suddenly found the porch floor very interesting. Beth could tell he wasn't used to telling people stories from his past and she even detected a bit of shame in his voice, as if he expected her to judge him. Instead of saying anything, she just moved a bit closer to Daryl and waited for him to finish. Daryl looked out at the woods, not really seeing it but lost in his past "We were watchin this show," he continued, "Merle was talkin all this dumb stuff about it. He wouldn't let up, Merle never could. Turns out, it was this Tweeker kid's favorite show and he had never seen this one episode before, so he punches Merle in the face." Daryl looked up at Beth with those bright blue eyes of his. Beth understood that he was trying to make up for getting angry earlier when she had asked about his past, but there was also something else in his story. Daryl was showing a part of his past as a way of showing that he trusted her. Never in her life would Beth have imagined that she would sit on a porch drinking and listening to the toughest man she knew open up to her. "So I started hitting the Tweeker, hard, hard as I can," Daryl said, making punching movements with his left arm. Beth tried not to smile as he began getting into the story. "Then," Daryl told Beth, "he pulls a gun and sticks it right here." Daryl points at his head and Beth couldn't help but think about how different their childhoods must have been. Daryl resumed the story, "He says 'I'm gonna kill you bitch.' So Merle pulls his gun on him. Everyone's yellin, I'm yellin. Thought I was dead, over a dumb cartoon about a talkin dog." Daryl quit talking and looked down at the ground. Beth couldn't hold her curiosity in. "How did you get out of it," she asked. Daryl glanced back up at her and seemed to debate finishing the story. "Well, the Tweeker punched me in the gut," Daryl said, "I puked. They both started laughin and forgot all about it." Beth didn't know what to say about Daryl's story. She was glad he had shared such an intimate detail about himself but it was also so different from how she grew up that she didn't even know how to reply.
Suddenly, Daryl's head snapped straight up and he looked at Beth. "Do you really want to know where I was before all of this," he asked. Beth didn't say anything, Daryl wasn't really asking, he knew that Beth was curious. "I was just drifting around with Merle," he admitted, "doing whatever he said we were going to be doing that day…..Nobody, nothin. A big red neck asshole with an even bigger redneck asshole for a brother." Beth hated the self-loathing in Daryl's voice. She also knew that despite how he talked about Merle, Daryl loved his brother. There was no other reason why Daryl would have followed Merle everywhere, Daryl was smart enough to not do things for no reason. "You miss him, don't you," Beth said gently, "I miss Maggie. I miss her bossing me around." Beth laughed, thinking of how different Merle and Maggie were. Both Beth and Daryl were younger siblings. "I miss my big brother, Shawn," Beth continued, "he was so annoying and over protective." She had always been close to Shawn and when she had started becoming interested in boys, Shawn had freaked out almost as much as Hershel had. The thought of Hershel made Beth's throat tighten. "And my dad," Beth managed to finish. Daryl hung his head a tiny bit at the last name. Beth kept talking though, because it felt good to finally say what she was actually feeling rather than try and keep on a tough face for the group.
"I thought, I mean, I had hoped he would just live the rest of his life in peace," Beth admitted. So much had changed in the past week, everything Beth had dreamed of was now impossible. Beth needed to talk about it and Daryl was a good listener. He seemed much more comfortable listening to her than telling about his own past. "I thought Maggie and Glenn would have a baby," Beth continued, rattling off all the silly fantasies she had. Beth had been so happy to see Maggie fall in love with Glenn. Although Maggie had tried not to show it, she had often been distant ever since her mom died. Beth hadn't seen her so happy and full of life until the day Glenn walked through the door. It was a miracle that Maggie had found someone in the middle of the world ending. Beth had hoped that someday she would as well, but the longer she lived, the less she believed that she would. Beth had always wanted to be a mother, but she would have been content being the aunt of Maggie's kids. "And he would get to be a grandpa," Beth said, thinking of the future that could have been. "We could have had birthdays and holidays and summer picnics," Beth continued, realizing how far her dreams were from the truth. "Eventually, he would get really old and it would happen, but it would be quiet," Beth said while trying to hold back her tears. Finally, Beth felt ready to finish, "He would surround by people who cared about him, the people he loved." She had finally said it, Beth had finally told someone all of her silly dreams that would never come true. In need of comfort, Beth reached for the moonshine once more and took a sip. "That's how incredibly stupid I am," she told Daryl, before taking another gulp, trying to drown the pain in her heart.
Daryl's POV
Daryl watched Beth as she fidgeted uncomfortably. Her eyes seemed shiny, like she was about to start crying. He had told Beth his story and she had just accepted it, she had accepted him as he was, an asshole redneck who hung out with the wrong crowd. To have someone just listen without making judgments was something Daryl had wanted for a long time, and Beth had done that for him. Then, she had told him about her dreams for her family. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about Maggie and Hershel made Daryl wonder what it would have been like if he had had a normal family. As Beth had gone on about birthdays and holidays, Daryl could only think about how pure and innocent she was. Despite all they had been through, Beth could still hope and dream, that was something Daryl had given up on long before the apocalypse. Her last statement still rang in his ears, her saying how stupid she was for dreaming. Daryl wished someone had been around to stop him from thinking the very same thing as a child. Beth sat across from him, holding onto the jar of moonshine like it was a life-preserver.
"That's how it should have been," Daryl said, referring to all of Beth's dreams for her family. He wanted to comfort her more, but Daryl didn't know how, he wasn't an expert at family, far from it actually. She looked over at him with sad eyes and said, "I wish I could just…change." Daryl was surprised. Sure, Beth wasn't the best fighter, but she had grown a lot stronger since the day he had first seen her on Hershel's farm. A couple of years ago, Beth wouldn't have been able to kill a walker or handle her father's death. "You did," Daryl told her. He wished he could tell her more. Daryl didn't want Beth to change; he liked the innocent way she always believed that things would work out. "Not like you," Beth replied, "It's like you were made for the way things are now." Daryl snorted in reply. Since when had he become a role model? The way Daryl had been raised and lived made him perfect for the world they were living in, but that didn't make him a good person, that didn't even make him decent. Yet, there was Beth staring at him like he was some superhero. Only in a shitty world like this.
"I'm just used to how things are, used to things being ugly," Daryl said, brushing off the compliment. He didn't deserve it, he wasn't the kind of person Beth thought he was. "I grew up in a place like this," he said, indicating his miserable childhood. The shack was so similar to his home that he half expected his paw to come out the door any second, red in the face and yelling at Daryl to get his ass inside. "But you got away from it," Beth insisted. He glanced around at the place that was almost exactly like his father's trailer, he could still hear his parent arguing in the middle of the night. "I haven't," he told Beth. "You have," she replied sternly. He obviously wasn't going to change her mind. Daryl wished he could be everything Beth seemed to think he was, but he just wasn't. "Maybe you just gotta keep on reminding me sometimes," Daryl said, trying to pacify her. "No," she instantly retorted, "You can't depend on anyone for anything, right?" Daryl tensed, she wasn't going to let the issue drop. "I will be gone someday," Beth continued. "Stop," Daryl said, he didn't like Beth talking like that. She was the only person he had left after the attack on the prison. Daryl didn't know if he could handle losing anyone more people. "I will," Beth said without a trace of doubt, "You're going to be the last man standing." Beth's absolute faith in him made Daryl feel uncomfortable, it wasn't often that he got compliments and this one wasn't the most cheerful one either. Never in his life had Daryl had anyone expect anything from him until the outbreak happened. Even then, people just expected him to do average stuff, hunting and fighting, the stuff he had always done. Half the time, even after helping out, Daryl would receive wary glances from the Woodbury folks or even from Hershel. Despite everything he had done, Daryl had always felt like those around him didn't approve. Yet, here was Beth who was telling him that not only was he a good survivor, but that he was a good person. "You're going to miss me so bad when I'm gone Daryl Dixon," Beth stated with a dreamy look in her eyes. Daryl felt as if a slab of concrete had been planted in his gut, he didn't like the sound of how Beth was talking at all. "You aren't a happy drunk, are you," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah, I'm happy, I'm just not blind," Beth declared.
Beth looked Daryl straight in the eyes and he couldn't tear his gaze away. "You gotta state who you are, not who you were," Beth instructed him, "places like this, you gotta put it away." Daryl stayed quiet for a minute. He could see his pa's house burning in his mind; he could hear the fire trucks as they came. Daryl could hear the kids at school whispering about how his mother had burned their house down, how she didn't make it out. "That what she gets for doing something crazy like that," they had said, which made Daryl punch them right in the face. Merle hadn't been around when it happened, he had gone off drinking at the coast with some of his buddies. Three weeks after his mom died, his pa had sat in his armchair and drowned his sorrows in beer. He started yelling at a picture of his wife, mad that she had left him. His pa had stomped all around their replacement trailer house and begun throwing bottles at the wall, knocking his mom's picture to the floor. Daryl had known it was time to leave so he had headed for the screen door, prepared to sleep outside that night. He never made it that far though. When Daryl was halfway across the living room, pa's gaze had landed on him. He could still see those brown bloodshot eyes staring him down. "You worthless piece of crap," the man had yelled, "you got that bitch's eyes." Daryl had backed away toward the door, but his pa was fast. No one lived nearby to hear Daryl's screams. Daryl had passed out midway through and woke up the next morning covered in blood.
After that, he has spent most of his time living out in the woods, until Merle came home. Merle was shocked enough by their mother's death that Daryl didn't bother telling him what had happened. Daryl's scars tightened at the memory. "What if you can't," Daryl asked Beth. "You have to," Beth replied without hesitation, "or it kills you." She brought her hand up over her heart. "In here," she whispered. Daryl stared at Beth, her words running around in his head. "We should go inside," he finally said. Beth didn't make a sound, so he glanced over at her. She was wearing a small grin on her face and there was a light in her eyes that hadn't been there since her father died. "We should burn it down," Beth suggested, her smirk turning into a full blown smile and she started giggling. Daryl looked up at the shack, his mother had apparently thought along the same lines as Beth. He looked back at her and her goofy smile. Daryl would never know if it was the alcohol or that smile that made him get up and take the jar of moonshine from her, but the next thing he knew, he was flinging it's contents against the wall. "We are going to need more booze," he told Beth, the corners of his mouth twisting up a bit.
Beth's POV
Beth headed after Daryl, he was already grabbing jars of moonshine from the crate and emptying them onto the floor. Beth took one and began emptying the contents onto the wall. Daryl walked past her as he was heading toward the living room. As he brushed by her shoulder, he flicked his fingers at Beth, causing moonshine to fly onto her face. "Hey," Beth protested. He just smiled with the corner of his mouth and began throwing the jars onto the floor. The tinkling of glass filled the air, the noise was sure to draw walkers, but that wasn't as important as what they were doing. Beth poured some alcohol on the couch, making sure the nasty furniture was drenched.
Finally, they ran out of fuel, so Beth began gathering up their stuff. Daryl picked up his bow and backpack before they headed outside. Daryl dug around and pulled out a wad of cash that he had taken from the country club. "You wanna," Daryl said, offering Beth some matches. Beth couldn't help but smile. "Hell ya," she said, allowing her language to slip in the excitement of the moment. She pulled out a match and struck it against the box. A thin flame appeared on the end, which Daryl put the money over. Soon, the paper had caught fire. In one graceful motion, Daryl tossed the burning cash into the shack, where it immediately began to spread. Flames leaped up at walls of the shack and ran across the porch. Heat began radiating from the fire, so Daryl and Beth retreated farther away. When Beth looked back again, the whole front of the house was on fire. On whim, Beth stuck up her middle finger, something she would have never done in her past life, but things were different now. She glanced over at Daryl and caught him staring at her. Beth nudged him with her hand. After a moment, Daryl put his middle finger up too.
The both just stood there and watched the house burn, until a couple of walkers showed up. Daryl put his arm on Beth's back and pushed her toward the forest. It's time to go. Beth turned and started walking, feeling safe with Daryl by her side. What they had just done, it didn't make any logical sense. They could have had a good night's sleep without worrying about walkers, rather than wandering around without shelter at night, but that wasn't the point. They had burned the shack because it stood for everything that had hurt them. For Beth it was the governor, it was the walkers, it was everything that had happened to her in the past few years. For Daryl, it was all of that and much more. Beth looked up to catch a smug look on Daryl's face and she knew that burning the shack down was just what he had needed.
I hope to have the next chapter up fairly soon as long as I have internet access. A special thanks to all my readers who are supporting my first fanfiction, ya'll are awesome!