...
Daryl leaned over the popped hood of the car, eyes moving quickly over the engine and what he could see of the cylinders. He knew without looking at Beth was behind him, attempting to inconspicuously poke around in his tool boxes. "Wanna hand me the ratchet wrench? Top drawer."
For the past couple of weeks, since that night by the fences when she'd stopped things with Zach and he'd thrown that bird necklace over the fence, Beth had taken to finding him at some point throughout the day. After dinner, when Rick would disappear into his room for an hour or two, Lil' Asskicker in one arm and some sort of farming manual under the other, she'd have a little time to herself. She'd tag along if he was walking the fence, or sit by if he was taking watch or working on a car. Daryl found he didn't mind too much, because she never brought up him throwing her necklace over the fence, only asking questions about things like sparkplugs and walkers and the woods around the prison. Sometimes she'd talk about what was going on inside the prison, and other times she sit around and read a book or write in that little notebook of hers.
Daryl could hear her humming under her breath as she rummaged around, then her steps as she walked over to stand beside him. His eyes caught for a minute on her hips, on the way her jeans fit tight to her body. Forcing his gaze up to her eyes, trying not to look too hard at the vee of her blouse, he nodded his thanks and took the wrench from her. She smiled, heading back to his assorted junk. She was quiet for a bit, probably settling down with her book to do some reading.
"Where'd you get all this stuff?" Beth finally asked.
Still fiddling with the corroded battery cable, he answered. "Here and there. Mostly from a garage, maybe fifteen miles away, that hadn't been picked over." Sighing, he wiped his fingers off on his rag. Probably should just take the cable off and replace it, if he ever wanted the car to start reliably. Daryl turned around, taking in the sight of Beth, her back propped up against his big tool box and her legs stretched out in front of her, ankles crossed. Her hair was up, like always, the blonde mass falling over her left shoulder and she read in the fading evening light, book in her lap. She looked up at him expectantly, and he felt the back of his neck heat up. He gestured at the big tool chest she was leaning against, muttering. "I just gotta get in there real quick."
Beth scooted out of the way a bit, sitting next to the chest instead of against it. She had her eyes on her book, but he still felt awkward, walking over there and digging around for a replacement battery cable with her sitting right there like it was nothing to have her so close to him. She'd been doing stuff like that these past two weeks, standing close to him or brushing past him as they walked around, and it was more than he was used to. Feeling uncomfortably warm as he dug around, he accidentally rammed a bit of loose wire under his thumbnail and he unthinkingly swore a blue streak, shaking his hand. Looking down at Beth, he saw she was rolling her eyes, a smile tugging at her mouth. "Why don' you help me with this, then, Miss Manners?" he said, raising a brow and almost smiling at her expression.
Beth set down her book and stood up, brushing off her hands. Big blue eyes looking up at him, smiling. "What can I do?"
Going back to digging around, he gestured with his head to a different toolbox. "Find some cleanin' shit. An' a rag." By the time she'd found some spray and a ragged, stained cloth, he'd managed to dig out a replacement battery cable that looked long enough. She stood beside him in front of the car, brow furrowed and biting her lip as she watched him disconnect the terminals and lift the battery out of the car. "Here," he said, a bit gruffly, handing the battery off to her. "Clean them terminals up, okay?" he said, running a finger around the metal knobs. Daryl stalled for a second, watching her set the battery down on the pavement. She crouched down, her jeans pulling down a fraction of an inch and her t-shirt riding up just a bit, giving him a clear view of her lower back, barely showing off those dimples just above the curve of her ass.
"Fuck," he mumbled under his breath, too quiet for her to hear. Daryl pulled his eyes away, feeling more like a fucking scumbag than he had in a long time. His motions were jerky as he detached the corroded cable from the engine block, and he almost dropped the cover. He'd been spending a lot of time with Beth lately, but that wasn't any excuse for thinking about her like that. She was just looking to get outside the normal pile up of people inside the prison, get away from Zach, get some time to herself, maybe get some different conversation. Not that he was so good with talking, but even still, there wasn't any call for imagining the most private sort of things about the youngest Greene girl.
As he was attaching the new cable, Daryl tried to think about something besides Beth's bare skin. It'd been easy to keep it all in one corner of his mind, back when he'd not been spending much time around her. Now that she spending time with him almost every day, Daryl was having a harder time keeping those thoughts where they belonged. She been cropping up in his dreams more often, sun-streaked flashes of his hand on her bare waist, his thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts, or his mouth tracing the curve of her spine as she arched beneath him. He'd thought about what her legs might feel like, wrapped around his waist. And he'd thought way more than he should about what her bare skin would taste like. When it came down to it, Daryl had been doing a lot of thinking about Beth at night. And none of it was making it easy to face her in the light of day.
Real trouble was, he was getting to know Beth more. Daryl was getting used to the way she talked, the way she moved. He was learning the sorts of things that made her smile, like the wildflowers growing by the laundry line or some new thing Jude was up to. And he was seeing some of the things that made her frown, like the time a "motherfucker" slipped out of his mouth in front of a group of little kids in the cafeteria. He was getting used to seeing her tug on her necklace and the way she chewed on her lip when she was reading or writing. And seeing so much of Beth was making him think about the raw more he'd been avoiding for longer than he could remember, pulling all his x-rated imaginings into the light of day.
Beth lifted the battery, handing it over to him, the terminals all cleaned. Daryl settled it back into the car, taking more care than he had to because concentrating on the car was safer than looking at her. Beth hovered near his shoulder, watching as he quickly reattached the cables to the terminals. It was getting to the point where he could feel her near him, sense her without looking too hard at what she was up to. He'd feel a certain warmth and just know, from across the cafeteria or across the yard, that Beth was around. Daryl had always been observant, and could usually tell who was nearby, to a certain extent. But he'd just be playing the fool if he didn't admit that when it came to Beth, it was different.
"Alright," he said, slamming the hood down with finality after finishing up. He fished the keys out of his pocket, hooking a finger through the ring. Daryl raised an eyebrow at Beth, who was watching him with a tentative smile. He tossed the keys to her, and she caught them deftly, smiling in delight. "Start 'er up and drive her back."
Beth scooted happily into the driver's seat and he slid into the passenger, and he half-smiled, watching her gleefully adjust the mirrors and her seat. One thin white arm hung onto the steering wheel as she slid the key into the ignition and twisted. She sighed happily as it started up easily. Looking around carefully, Beth put the car into gear and backed out of Daryl's corner, then pulled around, driving it over to the gate where all the other vehicles were parked. She drove better than he figured she would, and he thought about saying as much as she put the car in park and cut the engine.
"Wanna hear something silly?" she asked, looking over at him with a blush on her cheeks.
"What?" Daryl answered, propping an elbow up against the window and digging his knuckles into his hair.
Beth turned towards him a little more, slouching a bit in her seat, "I used to want to be a race car driver. For a summer, after I turned fifteen and got my permit. Driving just seemed so cool. I used to watch Nascar with Otis and Shawn and, my goodness, I used to just imagine myself doing crazy stunts when driving around the farm in Daddy's old truck."
"Y' ain't the only one," he said. Daryl grinned, thinking about a younger, smaller Beth bouncing around the cab of a beat up truck, a serious look on her face, practicing for the Daytona 500 inside her head. "Everyone gets real excited about finally bein' able to drive."
Beth smiled. "I miss it, sometimes," she said. "I'd rather be inside the gates, don't get me wrong. But I miss just being out for a drive, by myself. Miss watching everything move past me as I keep going forward. And I really miss singin' along to the radio. Everybody sounds better when the radio's on." She flashed him a smile he was getting used to, something halfway between happy and sad, as she pulled the keys out of the ignition and dropped them in the cup holder. They'd all taken to leaving the keys in the car, just in case.
Daryl kept his eyes on her and she looked up at him, the fading sunlight setting over her shoulder, casting a gold light over her shoulders. Something about the sun made her look pretty, lit her soft skin up from underneath. He felt like a perfect fucking ass, sitting across the car from a girl like Beth Greene and thinking about her soft skin and that wavy blonde tangle of hair. And he was getting used to her eyes, too, those looks she'd give him. Daryl couldn't figure out if he was getting better at reading those eyes of her, or if he was just getting used to not always being able to read her. Another one of those things he decided not to think about too much.
"Probably oughtta get back in and get Judy ready for bed," she said, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. "Thanks for lettin' me drive."
"Ya earned it," he said as they got out of the car. They walked around to the front of the car and stood for a minute, just facing each other.
Beth was squinting, facing into the sun with her hands tucked into her back pockets, elbows sticking out away from her thin frame. "I'll see you later," she said, smiling up at him as best she could with the sun in her eyes. He nodded, giving her a half-smile, and Beth turned away, heading back into the prison.
Daryl let his eyes wander over to her disappearing form as he walked back over to his tools, and by the time he was back with all his shit, Beth had vanished into the main door to C-block. He was starting to put stuff away, cleaning off the tools he'd used that day, when he noticed that she'd left her book sitting next to his big tool chest, the one she'd been leaning up against. Bending over, he picked it up, brushing some gravel off the back. She was still reading Gone With the Wind, but if the bit of scrap paper poking out between some pages was any indication, she was pretty close to the end. He set it down on top of his tool boxes as he finished picking up, deciding he'd have to bring it on in to her when he'd finished up out here.
As soon as everything was back in place, Daryl grabbed the book and headed back inside. A few people were milling about, and he was forced to chat with a few different folks from Woodbury, all of them asking him questions about upcoming runs, guard duty and shit like that. He kept his hands wrapped around the book, trying to cover up as much of the damn thing as possible, curling it inwards with the force of his grip. He was about two minutes away from an aneurysm when he finally managed to escape the questions. Daryl practically took the stairs three at a time in an attempt to get away.
Around the time he reached the top of the stairs, a few cells away from Beth's, he unclenched his hands around the book and realized he'd bent the book practically in half. Grumbling under his breath, annoyed by the people that had swarmed him downstairs and the fact that he'd crumpled her book to shit, he tried curling the book in the opposite direction, hoping to smooth it out as best he could. There was a slight crease in Clark Gable's face, and Daryl rubbed his thumb over it repeatedly as he stomped towards Beth's cell, still mumbling curses and complaints under his breath. The curtain over her door was open, and he strode right in, eyes still fixed on the wrinkle he'd made in Clark Gable's face.
"Beth, ya left…" The rest of his words died in his throat when he looked up to find a startled looking Maggie staring at him from where she was perched on the edge of Beth's bed. Beth was standing next to Maggie, swaying gently with Lil' Asskicker in her arms, the baby all dressed for bed in pink footie pajamas and looking sleepy, little eyes all droopy and unfocused. Suddenly aware he'd left his mouth hanging open, he forced words to come out of his mouth. "Left this outside," he finally managed, his eyes fixed on some indeterminate space between the sisters' kneecaps. Daryl held the book up for a moment before setting it down on the table by the cell door. Clark Gable's creased face looked up at him sardonically, and he was pretty sure he could feel Maggie's stare boring twin little holes into his forehead.
"Oh, thank you," she said. Beth bounced Judith slightly. "I'm about to put her down. Wanna say goodnight?" Without waiting for a reply, she stepped forward, the light from the lamp in her cell flickering in her eyes. Feeling a little like he had his back to the wall, he focused on the baby, the tired pout she wore and the tiny fist she had tangled in Beth's ponytail. The girl had her head snuggled under Beth's chin and blinked sleepily up at Daryl, a tiny smile on her face. He was a little used to the way people would stare when he was with the baby, everybody always a little confused by the sight. But it was a little different, knowing it was just Maggie who was staring at him, staring at him running a hand over the downy hair on Judith's head, staring at him as he stood a few inches shy of her baby sister. Daryl stole a quick look at Maggie over Beth's shoulder, sitting there looking at them with the strangest look on her face.
Daryl yanked his hand away when his pinkie brushed the hand Beth had on Judy's back, mentally cursing because he knew Maggie had eyes like a hawk. It was time to get the hell out of there and away from the Greene sisters. Time to get away from everyone. "Alright," was all he said, sparing a quick look at Beth's face and an even quicker one at Maggie as he ran one finger along the bottom of Judith's foot. Daryl nodded at no one in particular, and just left without another goddamn word, feeling like he'd just had a near miss with something even more awful than a walker. Working to blank out his mind, blotting out everything, he headed off to walk the fences again and check on whoever was on watch in the tower. Nothing like something to do to keep a man sane.
Whole evening, starting with Beth's shirt riding up and ending with the look on Maggie's face, was a fucking wash. Woodbury people asking him questions, like he had answers. Beth standing so close to him, holding onto that baby, looking at him with her big blue eyes, not giving a shit that her sister was just sitting there in silence, watching the three of them.
Too many goddamn people around. That's what it came down to. Daryl kicked one of the metal fence posts, probably a little more forcefully than he should have, judging by the dull throb in his big toe. When it came to Beth, he hadn't really reckoned on other people seeing them spending so much time together. Wasn't like they'd spent much time together before, and they weren't exactly likely friends. He'd been a moron, thinking it was something people wouldn't notice eventually. Might just be Maggie staring at him a little funny for now, but pretty soon others might start saying something. And it didn't take a genius to figure out the sort of thing they'd be saying about the dirty old redneck and the pretty girl. Worst part was knowing that he was a dirty old redneck. Hadn't he just been thinking about her like that less than an hour ago? And that was the least of the thinking he'd been doing.
Of course, the growling voice in the back of his head reasoned, might be all those Woodbury assholes would leave him alone if they thought he was the sort of guy to hang around with jailbait.
Trouble was, he wasn't that guy and never had been. He'd been trying to do right for as long as he could remember. Daryl might not have always lived up to it in the past, but he'd been trying to be good to his brother and to the rest of the world and it wasn't always easy to do all that at once. And now that it was just him and Rick and everybody else counting on them, he'd been better at it. There were people that needed him. And that was that. Life wasn't so complicated when it was just a matter of figuring out what other people needed and then trying to get it for them as best he could. Shit got a little murky when it came to everything else, like pretty Beth Greene, who was a million things at once.
Too much for him, all of this goddamn shit. He was really starting to miss the days when his tent was on the far side of the Greene's yard, close enough to help in case of trouble, far enough away that he didn't have to feel too suffocated. Yeah, those were the fucking days.
…
Daryl spent the next day steering clear of just about everybody. He ran off into the woods first thing in the morning, using hunting as an always reasonable excuse.
When he returned to the prison just before dinnertime, Daryl was covered in dirt and blood and feeling only marginally better for being out all day and making a mess. He'd had a run in with a few hungry walkers that had caused him to lose the first buck he'd had in his sights, and that had pissed him off for a while. He'd finally gotten lucky sometime in mid-afternoon, finding a bigger fellow than the one he'd lost, which improved his mood as much as anything else. Not much.
He stayed out in the grassy far side of the yard while skinning the deer, and was relieved when no one approached him. By the time he'd finished up gutting the deer, he was pretty sure dinner was all but over, and it was probably safe enough to head on in. Daryl slunk into the kitchen, dragging in everything he had and grunting at Pauline, who took it in stride. He had the feeling she was used to shit like that.
Daryl made it to his cell and down the showers without running into much of anybody, just Glenn, who seemed the same as always. After checking the bathroom was empty, then jamming the door shut for good measure, he took a quick camp shower, scrubbing the grime out of his hair and the blood out from under his nails. His mood improved a bit, standing under the spray and scrubbing off the grime, but he still wasn't about to be winning any awards for congeniality any time soon. He got dressed in record time, still a little damp, and decided to stick to the plan of avoiding most everybody, especially Beth. Seeing Rick, however, was probably a safe enough bet. Daryl could work on sorting out that big run with him, which would keep Beth out of his hair and out of his mind. After stowing his gear back in his room, he set off to find Rick.
Rick was sitting in his cell, casually flipping through a book on corn genetics. Daryl rapped his knuckles against the cell door, and Rick looked up. "Hey," Rick said, tossing the book onto his bed. There was a whole stack of farming books piled up next to the folding chair Rick was sitting in, along with a raggedy looking notebook open to a page covered in chicken scratch and a diagram Daryl couldn't make heads or tails of.
Daryl raised a brow. "What the hell are you gonna do to the goddamn corn?" He didn't know the first thing about corn genetics, but the book looked like it had been pulled from one of the dustier, older corners of the library and Daryl reckoned the whole thing wasn't ever going to come to much of anything.
Scrubbing a hand over his face, Rick laughed. "Nothing, probably. Can't figure out a damn thing the book's saying to me." The man was looking better lately, now that the prison was starting to pull together, starting to look more and more like the sort of place they'd really be able to maintain. He was starting to look a little like he had before Lori's death. Not hopeful, really. But something a little like it.
Daryl nodded, still leaning against the doorway. "So, I was thinking about the big run we were talkin' about earlier. Probably ought to do that soon."
Rick didn't reply right away, sort of staring through Daryl blankly, which made him a bit uncomfortable. Finally, he spoke, sounding more than a little unconcerned. "Yeah, man, whatever you think's good."
Daryl studied Rick in silence for a minute. Rick had been like that for a while now, brushing off any plans a body brought to him. Wasn't decisive anymore, not like before. "Anybody you think I should bring along? Thinking I should wait to see if Michonne comes on through, soon."
"Nah, man. You're the boss, here. It's your show." Daryl clenched his teeth but kept his face even.
Nodding, he crossed his arms. "Alright," he said. "Let you get back to your corn. Gotta go check the fences."
Rick waved in reply, picking up his notebook. "Later, man."
Daryl shoved off, starting to head for the yard without a backwards glance. Looking back, he wasn't really sure why he'd come inside in the first place. Should've just stayed outside, stewing in his own filth out in the woods. He could sleep in a tree. Maybe it was time to start building a perch for long hunting trips. If they came across the right hunting goods store, he might be able to find some sort of readymade thing that would d. Better than taking a hammer and nails out into the woods and banging until all the walkers in a twenty-five mile radius were hanging out under his perch, like a bunch of coon dogs with their eyes fixed on a particularly big raccoon, stuck in a tree with nowhere to go.
Just when he was about to make it all the way through the cell block, the big door to the yard right in his sights, he heard a familiar voice call out his name. He ground his teeth, trying to decide if he should turn around or not, when Zach caught up to him. "Hey, man. You still talking about heading out on that big run soon?"
"Talkin' about it," Daryl ground out, still walking towards the door, deliberately not looking in Zach's direction. Damn kid couldn't take a hint, though, and kept on chattering.
"Well, if you're going to do it, I really want to come along. I mean, it's something I can help out with." Daryl spared a glance for college boy, who was looking up at him with an earnest expression. Trouble with fucking Zach was that he was like a fucking dog, looking at you with nothing but what he was thinking on his face. Kid didn't lie, didn't keep secrets. He liked Beth, so he followed her around like a puppy. He got her a necklace, thinking it'd make her happy. And he kept away after she told him to go, didn't bother her none or anything. Starting to feel subtle throbbing behind his eyes, Daryl clenched his fists, trying not to think about the sight of that stupid necklace sailing over the barbed wire fence and straight into a bunch of walkers.
"Still plannin'," Daryl finally said. "Reckon if you want in, there's space for you. Now let me be." Without waiting for another word from the kid, Daryl pushed through the heavy door and out into the night.
When he got out to his side of the yard, Daryl halfheartedly fooled around with an alternator he'd found a while back. It got darker and darker, and he hadn't accomplished much of anything besides scratching at the metal some and maybe stripping some screws. He'd been working on keeping his mind blank, but he could feel all those thoughts, squirming around underneath the blanket he'd thrown over them. Wasn't accomplishing shit tonight, and his thoughts weren't about to get settled anytime soon. Hunting had taken all day, Rick was avoiding talking about the run, and Zach had pissed him off even more by showing off his puppy dog face. Feeling particularly spiteful and giving up on trying to be nice, he chucked the alternator into one of his piles of junk and fished his cigarettes and lighter out of his pocket.
Daryl ended up stretched out on the pavement, smoking and staring up at the slowly coming into focus stars. Wasn't exactly comfortable, but he didn't want to head inside and he figured if he was laying down, no one would see him out here. And although he was getting used to seeing her, which was probably the root of all his troubles, he didn't want Beth catching sight of him out here and coming out to sit with him.
When he'd smoked down to the filter, he stubbed it out and flicked the butt away. A part of his mind was already clamoring for the next one, but he wasn't listening to it. While he wasn't exactly running low, he wasn't about to waste them on laying out in the yard and staring at the sky. Sighing a bit, Daryl started running plans through his mind, thinking about how many people it might be good to bring along on the big run. Based on how far away the place was, they couldn't afford to take too many people away from the prison. Needed to make sure the place was well defended, in case they were gone for a while. They'd have to take a few of the bigger vehicles, too, load them up real good. Depending on what shape the place was in, they might be able to make a bunch of runs over the upcoming months, stockpile what they needed. Might be good to have someplace reliable. Keep the questions to a minimum if they could just do the same run for a while.
He hated to admit it, but Rick clearly wasn't going to be helping him out on this one. And it wasn't like Daryl needed Rick's help, but he wanted it anyways. Wanted to feel like Rick had his mind on something other than making purple corn or whatever you did with corn genetics. Rick did better with the nonstop questions, could reassure people with his words. All Daryl ever did when opening his mouth was piss people off, scare them, or say something stupid.
He could field some questions here and there, but it wasn't like that. And on top of all the questions he was getting, Daryl could see that people were looking at him like he had answers, like he knew what he was doing. Like he was some sort of leader. And he knew that wasn't true. Maybe he was helping out more that Rick was keeping busy with his crops. But that was it, even if no one saw it that way. All of it was making him itchy, making him hate the grey walls of the prison and the pile up of people looking up at him like he could do something for them, do something more than take down some animals or organize a group of people for a run. If he could just do that, maybe they'd leave him alone for a little while.
Fixing his eyes on the Ursa Major, the bear constellation, Daryl concluded to himself that he probably wasn't going to be left alone anytime soon. Nothing was ever that simple.
Maybe he deserved that second cigarette after all.
Daryl was scrounging around in his pockets when he heard the quiet footfalls, boots on pavement. He screwed his eyes shut, instantly giving up the search for nicotine and putting his hands behind his head.
The quiet footsteps stopped, and Daryl just thought of breathing. "Hey," Beth said, quiet. He didn't reply, and he heard her shuffling around a bit. Eyes still shut, he heard her sit down, then lay out on the pavement next to him. Didn't have to look to know there wasn't anything more than a handful of inches of gravelly pavement between them. He just thought about keeping his breathing even, not letting his mind settle on the girl stretched out in the yard next to him.
"Heard you're talking about going on a run soon," she said after a few minutes.
"All's I get is questions. Didn't expect it from you, too." He kept his eyes shut, and he wondered if her eyes were too, or if she was looking up at the sky, like he had been.
"Of course they're askin' you questions, Daryl. You're their leader." She said it all straightforward, quiet and calm, like she was telling him what they were having for dinner.
Daryl breathed out through his nose. "That's fuckin' bullshit, Beth."
"No, it isn't." There wasn't anything plaintive about her voice, just that same sort of quiet confidence she'd had for some time now. Beth wasn't trying to convince him. All she was doing was telling him.
Suddenly Daryl sat up, leaning on one elbow to face Beth as best he could in the dark. He could just barely see the shape of her face in the dark, and he was reminded of that night two weeks ago, the calm look on her face when he'd chucked that necklace over the fence, the cool assessment in her eyes. Beth turned to look at him, the moonlight glinting off her eyes and the heart necklace resting on her chest, rising and falling with her breath, just barely moving under his blue eyes. He let his eyes skim down her body, on the way her shirt rode up over her hips, showing off the curve of bone under pale skin, the rise and fall of her flat belly and small breasts. Daryl felt taunted, goaded by the fact that she was sitting near him, looking at him like that, looking the way she did. Pretty, and still so fucking tempting.
"Maybe I should start askin' you questions. See how you like it."
He felt her eyes then, really felt them and all the weight they put on him, pressing all the anger out of him. In one blistering moment, Daryl had the sudden feeling that he was on the other side of his crossbow's sight. He was the poor fucker in the crosshairs, and Beth was the one pinning him down with her eyes. She was breathing easy. He was the one counting every one of his last breaths.
"It isn't so bad, havin' those people look up to you, is it?" Beth was genuinely curious, he could hear in her voice, the slight inflection she put on is it?
"I just ain't Rick," he admitted, pressing his hands into his eyes as he laid back down. Daryl felt like the words were being pulled from him, making him feel slightly sick and relieved, his stomach churning but his mind calming down a bit, thoughts settling like leaves on a quiet pond.
"Rick ain't exactly Rick right now, either." She sounded a little wry when she said that, something almost like sarcastic, but more gentle than that. He looked over at her, and he saw her hand moving across her chest. Playing with her necklace again. She met his eyes. "It's not forever, you know. And you're good at it. People look up to you."
Daryl kept silent, pressing his hands to his eyes again. He could hear her breathing again, could hear the walkers moaning and hissing at the fence. There was a little noise coming from the prison, sounds dragged through the yard by the wind. Didn't like hearing those walkers so close to Beth, didn't like the way her exhale of breath sounded next to their constant groaning. He couldn't trace all the moments that somehow got him here with her, talking about him having to lead the prison while Rick took a break to get his shit together. He didn't want to admit that Rick needed that, because that meant telling himself it really was time to really step into Rick's shoes for a little while, instead of hanging back.
Beth moved again, a slight rustle of her sweater he heard and nearly felt. Her warm hand landed on his arm, fingers resting against his bicep, and he felt her thumb move back and forth slowly, a soothing motion that made him go completely still. "All of us know you're doing this for Rick." She pressed her fingers into him for a moment, squeezing. "But you don't need us to tell you that. You've been doing it all along, picking up where he can't. Have to be blind not to see it." Beth's thumb moved again, one long, slow sweeping motion across his arm, and he stayed utterly still under the still-foreign feeling of being touched like that. After a long, tense moment, she pulled her hand away. He could still feel it though, like the sweet sting of the Georgia sun in July.
"It's going to get better," Beth said.
Daryl pulled his hands away from his eyes and hauled himself up on one elbow at that. "And how the hell do you know that?"
It was dark, but he could still see that hard calmness in her eyes, same as that day by the laundry line, same as that night he'd thrown her necklace over the fence. It was a look he was getting used to seeing, maybe even something he liked seeing from time to time.
"I just believe it. I have to." she said simply, looking him dead in the eye. She didn't have to say it out loud, because he heard her voice in his head just the same: And so do you.
And damn it if she wasn't right.
...
A/N: Thank you to everyone that's taken the time to read, review, favorite... anything! I can't say how much it means to me. I'm feeling a little overwhelmed with all this! You guys have been absolutely amazing to me. THANK YOU!
This chapter was a tough one! Daryl was being so grumpy, I was trying to work in something resembling plot... Just, ugh. I was trying to work through his growing interest in Beth, his guilt over that, and how he's still uncomfortable with taking over for Rick while he's getting his farmer on. The Rick/Daryl dynamic is really important in the show, and I want to try to keep it that way in my story. Please tell me if I'm trying to cram too much into a 6,000 word chapter!
I'm trying to keep to a once-a-week update schedule, but as a sort of warning, I am a masters student and don't always have as much free time as I'd like. However! Working on this story is really high up on my list of priorities, and I'm going to be keeping it as such as best I can.
Happy watching this Sunday! I know I am beyond excited, and I'm sure you are, too! A Bethyl episode?! Be still my heart.