Daryl could see Maggie and Beth over Glenn's shoulder, eating breakfast and talking. He crammed huge spoonfuls of oatmeal into his mouth as he watched them, only listening with half an ear to Glenn and Rick talking about the day's plans. Glenn hadn't said anything when Maggie didn't join him for the meal, hadn't reacted at all when she and her sister sat way on the opposite side of the cafeteria. It wasn't normal. Glenn and Maggie were always up each other's asses. But there was Maggie, gesturing with her hands as she talked to her sister. And Glenn was sitting across from Rick and Daryl, chatting casually about fixing up the pigpen like this was the usual seating arrangement. He felt all the muscles in his back and belly tightening as blood pounded through him. Not like rage, though. Something different, something more like running for too long and waiting for the muscles to tear themselves from the bone. He wiped his mouth with his rag, pulling in a deep lungful of air, and then another. Then dove back into the last of his oatmeal when the simmering in his belly had cooled a little.
Daryl watched her closely as she fed the baby, Judy sitting up in her high chair and fighting Beth over every spoonful of mushy cereal. Beth had her hair pulled back from her face and hanging over her shoulder, the same mass of soft, clean hair that had brushed across his arm two nights ago when she'd laid her head on his shoulder. Sunlight streaked in through the windows, falling in bright panes of light over her bare arms and the clean white of her t-shirt, light glinting off her yellow hair. Beth looked good, cooing at the baby with her pink mouth in a perfect o, her thin body perched on the edge of her seat, one arm raised and moving a spoon towards the little girl's mouth. She looked elegant doing it, like some kind of dancer, the gentle lines of her arm and the bend of her elbow, a careful balance as she fed the baby. She would pull her arm back to the table, wrist moving quickly as she spooned up more grey-white mush, and then the dance would begin again, spoon angling at Lil' Asskicker's mouth, the smooth motions of her forearm swaying the food back and forth to entice the baby. He couldn't hear what she said, but she turned to face her sister for a minute, pink lips moving quickly and baby blue eyes rolling. Daryl scraped the sides of his bowl noisily, interrupting Rick.
"Are ya just about ready to get a move on?" he asked, looking between Glenn and Rick while shoving the last remnants of his breakfast into his mouth. "It's gettin' late."
Rick and Glenn shared a look, which didn't go unnoticed by Daryl, but they started eating more quickly all the same. He knew it was still pretty damn early. Most folks hadn't even made it down to breakfast, but that was fine by him. Daryl was hoping to get outside and start working before Hershel came on down to the cafeteria.
After what felt like too long, Rick and Glenn finished up their breakfast. "Alright," Glenn said. "Let me just say goodbye to Maggie. I'll catch up." They all stood, Rick gathering up their dishes to drop them off in the kitchen. Daryl made a beeline for the door and leaned his back and hips up against bar, pressing it open a handful of inches and leaning slightly into the sun-bright yard. He watched as Glenn ambled over to Maggie, both of the sisters looking up at his approach and Lil' Asskicker waving around fists covered in clumps of baby food. Beth's eyes fell from Glenn and he felt her gaze move to him, dark blue irises pinning him down and the flicker of her eyes sweeping him from head to toe. He studied her, too, watched her draw in a deep breath, chest moving up and down and the sunlight hitting the silver hearts hanging from her neck. Saw her hips shift in her seat as her shoulders fell. Daryl ground his teeth together, pushing the door open some more, moving further into the yard and taking his eyes off of her. Still felt her eyes on him, though, and he crossed his arms and looked up at the bright morning sun, squinting but not turning away from the blinding light until green-black spots in front of his eyes threatened to blot out the sun.
He turned his gaze back into the cafeteria in time to catch Rick walking towards him, back from dropping the dishes off in the kitchens. After one last kiss, Glenn made his way over to the two men by the door pushing his hair back from his eyes. "'Bout time," Daryl grumbled as he pushed the door open the rest of the way, shoving out into the light of the yard, Rick and Glenn following.
They made their way over to Rick's crops, planning on tinkering with the irrigation system a bit. Daryl kept to himself, although Rick and Glenn kept up a conversation about trying to find some solar panels and where and how they should be set up. The work was mindless, for the most part, and he found himself getting stuck on the sight of Beth Greene from across the cafeteria, staring him down. He hadn't spoken to her for going on two days now, though he'd been keeping an eye on her and he'd felt her eyes on him in return. Daryl couldn't help but think of the new distance he'd put between them, mostly because he felt it constantly, like the tired rub of his crossbow strap against his shoulder, pressing into his skin and leaving marks. Only this was a less welcome sort of ache.
Yesterday, the day after he'd told Beth he didn't feel anything for her, he'd spent most of his day like he was today, hiding out in the yard with Rick and Glenn. He'd thought about going out hunting, but wasn't too keen on leaving the prison at the moment, not so soon after that run going to complete shit. Spending all this time out with the plants, he could almost understand why Rick never wanted to get outside of the walls. Almost. Even knowing just how dangerous it was, Daryl still needed to get out of the gates from time to time, needed to feel the air on his face as he rode his bike down some crumbling state highway. Needed to get out and know he was doing his part, filling his role. Rick had his role, and Daryl had his. Everyone did. But today wasn't about that. Today was about trying to work out the extra thoughts in his mind, maybe trying to figure out where to go from here. They'd find a new place to raid. And he'd figure out a way to sit in a cafeteria and not feel like he was burning alive, looking at Beth.
Daryl had hauled himself back under the Oldsmobile after dinner yesterday. The whole time he'd been checking the brake lines, he'd been listening, hoping to hear the sounds of her boots on the pavement. She never came out, of course, and he stayed out under that goddamn car until it was too dark to see his own hand in front of his face. And when he went back inside, he repeated what he'd done the night before. Cleaned his weapons, did his rounds. And then he sat outside Beth's cell for a little while, listening to her sing to the baby, her voice sleep-slurred and heavy but gradually lightening as she crooned her way through some Tom Waits. Sitting out in the middle of the cellblock, not making a damn sound, he could almost imagine her, moving around in the dim light of her cell with the baby in her arms. Barely more than a few feet from him, but he may as well have been on the other side of the fence for all the good that did him. Even still, Daryl knew he'd probably end up doing the same thing tonight. Sitting outside her cell and pretending he hadn't gone and fucked it all up by asking her about them in the first place.
Daryl must've cursed out loud or something, fumbling with the clamp on a couple of jerry-rigged-together hoses, because he heard Glenn heave a dramatic sigh behind him.
"What?" he snapped, swiveling his head around to find that both men were staring at him, Rick with a coil of hose over his shoulder, and Glenn leaning against a shovel.
The younger man raised his eyebrows, scoffing a little. "You've been a dick for the last two days. Beth and Maggie have retreated into sister mode, getting all angry talking about boys they dated in the tenth grade and finishing each other's sentences. I haven't messed up lately." Glenn looked at Daryl expectantly.
"And?" Daryl prompted turning around to look more fully at the two men. Rick just had a blank look on his face, eyes moving between Daryl and Glenn. For his part, Daryl focused on keeping his face neutral as he stared at both of them in turn.
"Whatever, man," Glenn. "Just don't make the mistake of thinking you're smarter or more stubborn than either of them." The younger man's lips curled up into a wicked grin as he wiped sweat off his forehead. "Those girls will mow you down."
Getting back to his work, Daryl thought about what Glenn said. Stubborn. Beth was that, he was realizing. She'd found her way to him every day for weeks on end. She'd stared him down that night in the kitchen, curled her tiny hand into his shirt and flat out told him to reconsider. And just today, she'd ran her eyes over him until he was the one to duck away. Girl like that probably could eat him alive. She'd already been eating away at him for weeks, months.
After a time, Pauline brought out some lunch for them. Glenn went back inside, wanting to eat with Maggie, but Rick and Daryl stayed outside, parking themselves in a bit of shade by the garden. Shortly after the two men had sat down to eat, the big door opened and Beth, holding Judy, went on out to the yard, a handful of kids trailing after her. Two of the older kids were shuffling along and hefting baskets with both hands, and a couple smaller ones had blankets draped over their arms and trailing on the pavement. Carol brought up the rear, making sure the door shut behind her and keeping an eye on the kids as they raced off to a grassy patch of the yard a little away from Rick's crops, laughing and whooping as they went speeding past Beth.
Daryl and Rick both watched as the blankets were spread out and baskets emptied, Beth and Carol supervising as the kids set up a picnic. The group was far away, meaning he couldn't see too much, just the white of her t-shirt and the yellow of her hair. Saw a pink blob with a mop of dark hair squirming in her arms as she settled down on the blankets next to Carol. Daryl could tell the sunlight was hitting all over Beth's bare arms, probably making her flush a little, maybe making her freckles pop. He wondered about her necklace, if it was swaying against her chest, or if she had it tucked into her shirt. Wondered about the look on her face, the shape of her mouth as she looked down at the little girl in her arms. Wondered how her skin would feel, if he could press his palm to the small of her back, slip has hand just under her shirt and slide his fingers over her sun-warm skin.
"She's good with kids, isn't she?" Rick said, breaking into Daryl's reverie. "Good to have her looking after Judith."
Daryl grunted, looking down and swishing the water around in his water bottle before downing a huge gulp.
"You can't blame us for being curious, man." Daryl turned, looking at Rick a little incredulously. Rick had a small grin on his face.
Daryl looked back over at the little picnic, watching Beth mediate some sort of argument between two little boys, Judith balanced on her hip and ponytail swinging as she shook her head emphatically at them. "Nothin' to be curious about."
The two of them lapsed into silence, chewing their hard cornbread and watching the pile of kids. Some walkers moved down the fence, drawn in by the sound of the children hollering and talking over one another, but there weren't too many at the moment. Just have to keep his eye on it, maybe pick some off when the kids weren't looking.
"You know, it never made too much sense to me," Rick began again. "You and her." Daryl turned back, and Rick met his eyes, looking back at him with that earnest cop look he hadn't seen in a while. That look Rick used when he had something to say and wanted people to listen. "It started to, though. Beth's strong. Does what she has to. Same as you, just in different ways." Daryl nodded, sorting through Rick's words. "You're less of a dick around her, anyway," the older man finished, laughing a little as he borrowed some words from Glenn.
"Told her no," Daryl finally said, looking back over at the kids, now swarming around Beth, cheering about something.
"Think we all figured on something like that, man," Rick offered.
They fell back into silence, finishing off their meals and sitting still for a moment, enjoying a small breeze that kept them from getting too hot. They both noticed Glenn at the same time, walking towards them across the yard, dragging his feet because Maggie was hanging onto his hand.
Rick took a deep breath, looking out at the walkers hanging onto the fence, and began to talk quietly, not looking at Daryl. "I told Lori no. And I never really had a chance to take it back. Maybe me and her were never good together. Maybe me and her were never going to have enough time to work all that out. But I could've told her yes, and I never did."
Daryl looked over at Rick, taking in the man's profile, sitting on the ground and staring out at the walkers clinging to the fence, the sheriff's thumb and trigger finger twitching. Rick turned to him, meeting his eyes, and not hiding from it. Rick didn't have that wild look, not like he used to, but there was a flicker of regret in the man's pale eyes, something that reminded Daryl of Rick screaming into the cellblock all those months ago. He huffed out a breath through his nose, feeling that old ache settle on his shoulders.
Glenn finally reached the men, flopping down on the grass across from the other men and waving at Maggie, who was walking over to join Carol and Beth with the kids. Rick and Daryl looked over at Glenn, both their faces composed, like they'd never been talking about how any of them could be gone at any minute.
"Alright," Glenn said. "What are we doing this afternoon, guys?"
Daryl looked over at Glenn, keeping his face impassive. "You're shovelin' pig shit and Rick and I are gonna go back on inside an' take a break."
Glenn shot Daryl a dirty look. "Ha, ha," he replied, drily, cracking a smile all the same. He looked over at Rick for a real answer.
"We're all shoveling pig shit," Rick answered. Glenn groaned, and Daryl bit down on his grin. But he reckoned Glenn knew, anyways.
…
Daryl was sitting in the dim library, twisting a bolt between his fingers and staring off into the distance, blankly surveying the fraying dictionaries across the room. He'd been in here since dinner ended, started out trying to read more of that book, but quickly gave up and settled for staring at the wall and fiddling with his crossbow. After helping out Rick, he and Glenn made up some plans to go out scouting possible run locations over the next couple days, talking all through dinner before going their separate ways. Glenn went off with Maggie to do a quick perimeter check, and Daryl headed off to sit in the quiet dark of the library. Hadn't wanted to work on the car again tonight. Last night, spending the whole evening with the muscles in his back stretched tight and his belly burning, just waiting for her to show up, hadn't done him a lick of good. Hadn't done the car a lick of good, either. And Daryl wasn't about to spend another night pretending otherwise.
So he'd gone and sat in the library, sitting at one of the big tables, watching the incremental set of the sun and trying not to think about the evening he'd spent in here with Beth, the night she'd slept on the floor and he'd run his dirty hand over her cheek. Back when he thought he could be around her and not let all the wanting tear him apart. Daryl ran a thumb over the tip of his bolt, slowly, feeling the sting of the point press into his skin. Sighed. Went back to idly turning the bolt between his fingers.
The door creaked open and he looked up to see Beth slipping through the door, still wearing that white shirt and her usual jeans, her little green notebook tucked under her arm. Her eyes fell on him, but she didn't look surprised to see him sitting there. Didn't look happy to see him, neither, but it almost felt as nice as all those weeks where she'd been seeking him out every day, smiling when they met up and settled into their evening routine. She bit her lip as she looked at his face, and he shifted in his seat, the bolt having long since gone still between his fingers. Beth walked over to the table and sat down at the table, right across from him. Set her notebook and pencil right on the table, not looking at him anymore, and flipped through her book until she reached a blank page. And then started to write.
It was the first time he'd seen her up close in two days. First time he'd really gotten a real good look at her since she'd gotten in his face, wrapping those little fingers around his shirt and asking him to give her a chance. Daryl blew out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
She looked good, ponytail and braid falling over her shoulder, the ends brushing against the worn table as she wrote. Beth's face was a little red from the sun, a brightness in her face that made her look like a day out by the water, a day spent laying out on docks, hands running down a bikini-bare body and the taste of salty sweet skin under his mouth. He didn't bother trying to read her loopy, upside down cursive, but he liked watching her hand move across the page, filling a page quicker than he ever would've been able to. As much as he liked watching movies, and sometimes reading, he didn't have much to say for himself. He just liked seeing things happen in front of him. That was good enough.
Beth looked up after a while, after she'd filled the front and back of a page. She turned her head, looking out at the sun finally falling low in the sky, the red-orange light falling over her skin and casting shadows in the delicate shell of her ear and on the slender curve of her neck. After a long moment, Beth turned back, then shut the book and set the pencil aside. Her eyes finally really met his, and her eyes were baby blue again. Not hard, and not that glass-clear blue he'd seen that night in the kitchens. Her gaze was soft, and she smiled a little, lips curling up like she didn't really know what else to do around him. He looked down at the bolt in his hands, feeling a little trapped, but still not wanting to try getting away, not even a little bit. Daryl twisted his fingers around the shaft, the edge of the table digging into his forearms and unease moving down his spine like a cold sweat.
"Nothin's gotta change, okay?" Her soprano words, that gorgeous drawl, made him look up at her. "I was your friend. I still can be."
The way she looked at him, when she said those words, eyes still so soft like a little piece of summer-blue sky on a clear day, made it all worse. Her hands were tangled up in her necklace again, the leather cord following the v-neck of her t-shirt. The tumble of blond hair brushed the skin of her raised arm, brushed against the swell of her breast. She licked her lips, looking at him with something like concern. After all the long, searching looks, all that time feeling the weight of her stone-blue eyes on him, it felt wrong to have her looking at him like this, like she was offering him an easy way out. The bolt was pressed so tight beneath Daryl's fingers, the curvature of it pressing past skin to his very bones, making him ache.
"Beth—" he began to say, his voice barely more than a growl, but she cut him off.
"I want whatever you can give me, okay?" Her voice cracked on the last word, and he felt how much he had hurt her, like a fist to the gut. Maybe all that softness he'd been seeing in her face was more like sadness, after all. As close as she could get, these days. "Maybe I was stupid. But don't tell me we can't still have this."
Daryl growled out a breath, throwing the bolt down on the table and lacing his fingers behind his head in one quick, agitated motion. "Y'ain't stupid, Beth." He laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "Y'ain't fucking stupid."
Beth had the bigger heart on her necklace pressed between her thumb and forefinger, and she looked at him, all that concern washed away. It was strange, looking at her eyes shining but the blue of her irises darkening with that hardness he was used to.
"Look," he began, "I'm an asshole, alrigh'? That's all I got."
Beth sighed, shoulders dropping a bit as she looked at him. "We both know that ain't it, Daryl."
The words were harsh sounding, forced out of his mouth. His fingers tightened behind his head, fingertips digging into the soft spaces between the knuckles of his hands. "That's all I got, Beth," he repeated.
While he watched, Beth tucked some hair behind her ear, leaning back in her seat as she looked at him. After a moment, she picked up her notebook and pencil, holding them between her two small hands. She looked down her fingers wrapped around the small green book and the pencil trapped under a thumb, giving a soft sigh and shaking her head a little. And then she looked right back up at him, hard blue eyes telling him just what she thought of that. But Beth didn't say anything to Daryl. Just stood up, and he let his eyes fall down the gentle lines of her body, the curves and the hollows, the shadows and the light spots illuminated by the last tiny bit of sun. She had the notebook and pencil in one hand now, and he had the strangest hope she'd reach out to him with her free hand, maybe let her fingers trail down his arm again or press against shoulder. Maybe she'd curl her fingers into his shirt again, and he'd feel the bite of her nails through the fabric, feel the heat of her hand warming him up.
But she didn't do anything like that. Just looked at him with another look he couldn't figure out, and walked away.
…
Daryl stood looking out at the woods around the prison, one hand curled around his crossbow strap, the other resting near the knife handle at his hip. He'd just finished checking all the gates and outer section of fencing, keeping one eye on the growing pile-up of walkers clinging onto the fences. Something to take care of tomorrow.
He couldn't see much in the woods, given how dark it was. But he could hear some coyotes, calling out to each other and generally raising a ruckus. He'd hunted them from time to time, back before, but didn't much care for it. They were always a good challenge, damn smart animals that took a lot of time to learn how to track. But after he'd killed a few, back maybe nine, ten years ago, Daryl had started feeling off about it. Wasn't any point to killing them, even if they weren't supposed to be in Georgia in the first place. Some dumb fucks had brought them down here a long time ago, let them run loose, and they were just doing what they needed to survive. Wasn't like he needed the skins or meat or anything, so he'd given up on it. Still tracked them from time to time, for the fun of it. Or, at least, he used to. Before.
Some shrieking cry sounded in the far reaches in the woods, a keening cry that almost sounded like a baby, if babies had canines and claws, and it raised the hair on his bare arms. With the world going to shit, who knew what was out in those woods?
The walkers still clawed at the fences, but Daryl just stared at the forest for few minutes, trying to figure out what was out there. Who the hell knew? Give the woods a couple decades, then take a look at all this. Everything would be different. Even more different than it already was.
Daryl turned to head back inside, listening to all the noises echoing in the empty yard around him, the ruthlessly hissing walkers, the cries of the coyotes, the breeze sweeping through the trees. He felt tired. Felt old, again. Too goddamn old for the world to be falling apart like this. Too goddamn old for all this running. Too goddamn old for a lot of things. His feet ached in his boots and his arms and back throbbed from all the work he'd been distracting himself with.
He headed inside after he finished checking the interior fencing and the doors. Wasn't too late yet, a few folks still awake and chatting or relaxing in their cells. Daryl ambled past Rick's cell, saw Carl sprawled out on the bunk, reading some careworn, colorful comic while Rick was sitting back in his chair, leisurely flipping through an old almanac. Carol was folding up some laundry, putting things to rights around her cell. Saw Michonne carefully wiping down the blade of that sword of hers. Heard Maggie and Glenn talking, voices muffled by their curtain but still easy and calm sounding. And walking past Beth's, he could hear her humming as she worked on that baby book, carefully writing on the thick paper with those special pens and markers he'd found her all that time ago. Hesitated for only a second, letting his eyes linger on her in the orangey light of her cell and letting the sound of her wash over his mind, and kept on moving.
When he reached the quiet emptiness of his cell, he set down all his gear, shedding most of his spare knives and setting his crossbow down carefully. Unlaced his boots and stretched out on his bed, figuring on taking a quick nap before checking on the cell block. Hadn't been sleeping well the past few nights, and all the walking and shoveling and hauling shit around the yard with Rick was getting to him. Laid his head back with a sigh, shutting his eyes and willing his shoulders to relax. Let the breath slip in and out of him, slow and steady, and fell asleep.
Daryl awoke with a start sometime later, his cell pitch black and the arm under his body burning with pins and needles. He groaned as he rolled out of bed, stumbling to his feet and nearly tripping over his own goddamn boots. Rubbing his fist over his sleep swollen eyes, he jammed his boots on, then stretched his back as he bent to tie them up. Checked that his big knife was still on his belt, deciding to leave his bow behind for the night. Shaking his head, he pushed his raggedy sheet out of the way and walked out of his cell.
Taking off towards the bathrooms, he walked quietly through the cellblock, yawning as he went. Must've been early in the morning, maybe around three or so. Still dark out, temperature still low. No one moving around, just the usual sounds of sleep and rustles of bedclothes.
The bathroom was damp, echoing with the sounds of leaking faucets, but still somehow relaxing. Daryl washed his face off with a bit of cool water, feeling restless and grimy and hoping to work the sleep out of his eyes. He could just barely make out his reflection in the mirror, shadows covering much of his face. Just saw the shine of his eyes and water dripping from the ends of his too-long hair and onto his cheeks. Almost wished for a little bit of light in here, just so he could take a good look at himself, try to figure out what sort of man he was looking like these days. Wasn't actually sure when he'd last looked at himself. Was never much for it before all this, and even less so, now.
What Glenn had said to him, what Rick had said, out there by the corn and the pigs and all that, it was sticking with him. Wasn't thinking too much on it, anyway, but it was like a bad burn. Always hurt, in some fucked up corner of your mind, even when you weren't thinking on how it felt to have your skin cracked, blistering, and oozing. Wasn't a mystery that he'd been acting like a dick for the past two days. Didn't feel too surprised, either, that Rick and Glenn had picked up on the why of it. But how was he supposed to tell men like that why he'd done what he'd done? Couldn't even put it into words for Beth herself. Couldn't figure how to even think about it. End of the day, this wasn't really something for talking about. Wasn't something you could just plan a run for, get what you need and haul ass back with the solution. Wished it was, though. Make it a whole hell of a lot easier on him.
When Beth had sat down across from him in that empty library, he hadn't known what to do. Rick's words, Rick's words about Lori, had been burning a hole under the tarp in his mind, but he just couldn't let them out into the open. And then she'd offered friendship, just letting all that she'd said, all that she'd did, her hand wrapped up in his shirt and her eyes burning into his, just letting all that go. And what Daryl had realized that it felt an awful lot like the coward's way out. But saying yes to Beth Greene was something for a good man, something for someone far better and younger than him. Something for someone that knew a damn thing about what she was asking for. Because Daryl knew himself pretty well. Knew he wasn't any better than fucking a girl once or twice and never saying a goddamn word. Daryl was about keeping his shirt and boots on while he was inside a woman. About falling asleep alone and never disappointing himself or anybody else with trying anything more. So that left him sitting in the library with Beth Greene staring him down, trapped between being a coward and trying at something he could never be.
But, even as he told her what an asshole he was, Rick's words still cracked and oozed and blistered in the back of his mind. I told Lori no. And I never really had a chance to take it back.
World like this, the threat of losing someone was a reason to keep them at arms' length, all while trying to pull them as close to you as possible. Glenn and Maggie. Every second of their lives was for each other, about getting so close they were living under the other's skin, a tattoo. Rick and Lori. Never got a chance to take it back, and Rick had lost his mind over it. Where did that leave Daryl? Mostly just felt like him being a dick, being alone in the evenings and burning up from wanting to touch Beth Greene. Felt like looking at her pretty face and wanting all sorts of things that were never meant to be his, like that gentle look on her face when she looked down at the baby, or the feel of her fingers running down his arm. Soft skin and all that tangled up golden hair brushing up against him as she leaned into him. Wanting to hear her voice, talking about everything going on inside as he worked on the cars, all that humming and soft-singing she did under her breath without even realizing it.
Wanting all that from her wasn't enough of a reason, though. Just because he wanted something didn't mean he had to have it. Wanted plenty of shit he never got. Wanting her wasn't enough of a reason to have her. Wanting her didn't mean he could do right by her.
So Daryl settled for coward. But knowing he was being a coward didn't sit right with him. It settled heavy on his back, making him even more tired, and it fueled the rancid burning in his belly.
Leaving the bathroom, he double checked all the doors and gates, making sure everything was all locked up. And then he headed back up to the cellblock, moving smoothly past all the cells and listening for the sounds of everyone breathing, relaxing only when he heard everyone just where they were supposed to be. Daryl slowed down some when he got close to Beth's cell, not wanting the sound of his boots to wake anyone, least of all her. Didn't need to make it any worse by letting her know he was hanging out around her cell like some kind of fucking snake. Didn't matter if he only did to make sure everything was as it should be, it was still fucking wrong to spend a few minutes pressed up against the wall and thinking on her pretty face and quiet voice.
The blanket she used as a door was pushed open a few inches, and his sharp eyes automatically fell on that space before he could tell himself to look away. It was a lifelong habit, only reinforced more by the past few years, to take a good look at what was going on around him. And before he knew it, Daryl's eyes were catching on Beth's blue ones, her face caught in shadows and the little bit of light coming in through the door. She was leaning over the baby's crib, hands curled around the scarred wooden railing, surprise written across her face. Her blue eyes wide open, lips parted. He was frozen the instant her eyes hit his, like all his bones were stuck together. After a tense moment, though, Beth dropped her hands from the crib and gave him a tiny smile, one side of her mouth lifting up. And then she moved towards him, a long, thin line of slim body, just wearing a tight tank-top and loose-fitting sweatpants that hung from her hips, showing off a few inches of curved bone and flat belly, the indent of her navel. His eyes traced the smooth line from ribs to thin waist to the smooth roundness of her hips. Without making any noise, she pushed the curtain out of her way and stood in her doorway, looking up at him.
Daryl's eyes locked on the curve of her shoulders, the white skin and the handful of freckles. And then her slender hand found his, cool fingers circling his wrist before Beth slid her palm down against his. His eyes moved up the line of her neck, marking where a few loose waves were brushing against where her pulse beat, before traveling over the soft curve of her jaw, over her pretty mouth and his eyes slanted up her high cheekbones before meeting her steady gaze. Daryl could feel Beth's eyes searching his, just like he was trying to do with her, but it was just too goddamn dark for it. Could still feel her eyes on him all the same, though. And just like that, his shoulders fell, all the tension draining out of him.
Beth didn't give him any warning, just tugged his hand, drawing him just past her curtain, the soft fabric brushing against his bare arms. And once he was in there, she pressed her face into his chest, her forehead right near the collar of his shirt and her hand clutching at the shoulder of his shirt, her tiny fist pressed against his collarbone. Felt her sigh, her breath a warmth reaching through the worn fabric of his shirt, and he fought to keep still. Daryl just let one hand slide low across her back, pressing his fingers and palm to the bare skin of her back, those few precious inches he'd spent far too long thinking about. His thumb swept under the hem of her tank top, pushing it up higher, and he stroked the soft skin he found, the motion of his thumb and the heat of her skin soothing him somehow, traveling up his arm to the rest of his body.
"I couldn't sleep," she whispered into his chest, so quiet he almost thought he'd made up the sound of her voice.
Daryl didn't reply, just lowered his head and let his face brush against her head. He felt the soft brush of her hair against his jaw, on his cheek. Breathed her in, the sweet and the raw female scent, and it left him aching, left him wanting. Beth's breath hitched, fingers curling tighter into his shoulder, other hand curling tighter around his hand. Her hips shifted against him as she blew out a shaky breath, and he knew she felt him, hard and pressed against her soft belly. Daryl found his hand pressing harder against her lower back, searching for all the softness he could, maybe pulling her into him a little further. And it sure felt an awful lot like she was pressing into his touch, pressing up against him, arching herself just a tiny bit.
Daryl wasn't a good man. But he wasn't a coward.
"Me neither," he whispered, his voice gravelly maybe out of want, maybe just because it was darker than sin in there. Beth made a soft noise in her throat as she shifted against him, her chest pressed against him, and he felt the soft rub through his shirt, and he closed his eyes.
They stayed like that for some time, Daryl just breathing in the scent of her, feeling her and wanting her. The skin of Beth's back was warm against his palm, and he could feel gooseflesh under the steady sweep of his thumb. After a while, the fist at his collarbone started getting looser, and she made a sleepy noise, something that was quieter than an unrepentant moan, but he felt the sound like a jolt, low in his body, all the same.
"Beth," he murmured, moving his hand to her hip, slowly disentangling himself from her. She blinked slowly, her hand falling from his shoulder and the other giving his big hand a weak squeeze before letting go.
Daryl kept his hand on her hip for a moment, looking down at her and trying to search out her eyes. Just saw a soft glint of light, a hint of light blue looking back up at him. Couldn't really be sure, but he had the feeling they were that soft, glass blue.
"I can't say yes," he whispered, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hip, craving the outline of her very bones. "But I ain't sayin' no to you."
Beth didn't say anything, just tilted her head up a bit more and lifted her hand, slowly, towards his face. She brushed her fingertips, soft and cool, against his cheekbone, once, twice, and then dropped her hand. Her body felt pliant to him, all soft acquiescence in the curve of her spine and the loose set of her shoulders, no tension threading her tiny form. Felt like enough of an acceptance to him, just like her fingertips had been something like forgiveness.
After a long moment, Daryl let go of her hip, finally stepping away from her altogether. He nodded at her, and with the dim light of the moon filtering in, he could just make out her answering nod. And then he stepped out of her cell, bound for the cold solitude of his own, but maybe feeling a little less alone, after all.
…
A/N: Good lord, you guys. This chapter has been haunting me. I have been writing, rewriting, editing, cutting scenes left and right… But it's been a glorious time! I'm sorry it took an extra day or two, but I think (hope?) it was worth the wait.
First and foremost, I owe a tremendous debt to JenniferCarolyn, who was beyond helpful in getting the first part of this chapter into good shape. Honest and constructive criticism makes a story better, and if this chapter's any good at all, it's because of her!
Second, I've been remiss in thanking my guest reviewers, so many of whom have left wonderful, thoughtful comments. Thank you, guys! And thank you to anyone who's left a review. I do try to respond to every review, so if I've missed you, I do apologize. But you guys seriously make my day, and you make writing this so much easier.
Third, I'd love for you all to hit me up on tumblr, user name CoraRochester. Tumblr is my special little addiction (besides this freakin' story!) and I'd love to chat with you all!