There were nearly forty or so walkers, pressed up against the fence. The whole herd was growling and snapping like mad, teeth opening and closing on empty air, hands trying to reach through the fence, searching for anything warm and alive. The early morning sun beat down, too hot already and making the stench of all those rotting bodies even worse. There'd been a handful of walkers out by the fences when he went in for bed last night. But nothing even close to this. This was more than they had ever gotten overnight before. And they were putting too much pressure on the fence. Without even getting too close, he could see it starting to give way under all that weight.
Was always just a matter of goddamn time before something started falling apart.
Daryl had gotten out of bed at the ass crack of dawn, having not slept a damn minute after coming back to his own cell from Beth's. Just meant to just do a quick loop of the yard while Pauline cooked up some oatmeal. But then he'd seen the huge herd of walkers jammed up against the fence, and went back inside to gather up some help. None of the volunteers got any breakfast, they'd just gathered up some weapons and headed for the fences, stone faced, hungry, and all of them with a glint of hate in their eyes as they rushed out to the pile up, the walkers concentrated on one small bit of fencing, instead of spreading out like they usually did.
Hadn't been that many out here when he'd gone in the night before, he kept thinking. The herd had way more than doubled, raising a horrible ruckus and drawing in even more walkers from the forest. Maggie and Sasha were working on drawing some walkers away from the crowd before killing them, while he and Rick worked with Glenn and Tyrese on taking out as many from the center as they could. A herd of that size pressing against the chain link fence made it sag dangerously, steel screeching as it moved under the press of decaying, ravenous bodies. They all worked without pause, jamming sharpened bits of metal or wood through the walkers' brains. Daryl had his teeth gritted together and his hands wrapped tight around the crowbar he was using, feeling a numbness underneath both the burning in his arms and the absent gnawing feeling in his belly. He could hear the dry hissing and dissonant groans of the walkers mixed in with the grunts and labored breathing of the men working alongside him, and all of it was echoing louder in his head when he started to realize the herd didn't seem to be getting much smaller, the more he was seeing that the fence wasn't sagging any less.
Daryl heard Maggie's screams and Rick's shouting same time he saw the fence moving downward, finally beginning a slow collapse, bent nearly in half under all those walkers. And then he heard Sasha, voice hoarse with disbelief as she shouted to the group. "Are you guys seeing this? Someone's been feeding them!" The walkers grew more frantic at all the noise, the fence bending inwards just a little bit more.
"Back away from the fence!" Daryl shouted, and they all took big steps backwards, watching the fence sag towards them a little more. Daryl took a step towards Sasha. Took one look at the half-eaten mice scattered along the fence line, all of them oozing red-black sludge onto the weeds, and Daryl felt that old urge, the urge to crack open skulls in an effort to get the world sorted again. Felt it burn through him in a way he hadn't in a long, long time. Who could be so fucking stupid? Feeling more than a little unhinged, he turned back to Rick, who looked ashen. The sheriff scrubbed a hand over his face as he looked around wildly, from the sinking fence to the tall walls of the prison, out to the conspicuously empty yard and over by the green of the gardens and back again.
"This fence is gonna fall if we don't do something," Sasha said, vehemence making her voice low and loud all at once. Daryl felt the same burning she did, the same rage. Watched the fence sink a little more under the writhing mass of dead skin and bone and brain. Beth flickered across his mind for a second, making the heat flaring its way over him go burning cold in an instant. Wasn't going to let this fence fall, wasn't going to let the walkers any closer than they already were. They had to do something, and picking them off one by one wasn't going to cut it this time. He looked over to Rick, mind turning like a fan belt, but nothing was coming to him aside from mowing the walkers down with the rifles, which was too dangerous with them still pressed up against the fence. Too loud, as well.
"I know what to do," Rick replied to Daryl's unanswered question. "Get the truck," he said, their eyes locked as Daryl nodded, already moving.
The two men ran for the cars, their boots not making a single noise to be heard over the walkers at their fences. The butt of his crossbow slammed into his back a couple times, and he felt it without really noticing it, just a dull throb that he'd fully register hours or even days later. Rick pointed to the jeep, the one with the trailer already hitched up. "The pigpen," Rick shouted, slapping the dented hood of the vehicle as he ran passed. Daryl vaulted into driver's seat, digging for the keys briefly before slamming them into the ignition and starting her up with a quick wrench of his wrist.
Daryl drove over the yard as quickly as he could without tipping that damn trailer, though it fishtailed a little as he went. Came to a hard stop in front of the pen, watching Rick heft one of the piglets. Figured out, for certain, just what the man was up to. Saw in written in the grim set of his mouth, in the blank look in his eyes. He jumped out of the driver's seat and helped Rick gather up the final two piglets, stowing them in the big crate they kept on the back of the trailer, the crate they used for runs, for loose odds and ends. Getting a new use today, it seemed. Daryl almost directed Rick to take the wheel, but Rick was had already climbed onto the back of the trailer, sitting next to the big crate with a grim look on his face, so Daryl got back behind the wheel and took off for the gate.
Maggie was hauling the last gate open just in time, and Daryl drove them out beyond the prison fencing, kicking up a spray of loose stone and sand as they sped past. He circled around the prison, weaving his way through the tall grass and revving the engine as he went, hoping to draw the attention of as many walkers as he could. They started to trail after him, slowly dragging themselves away from the fence, drawn in by the newer, louder sounds. Rick called out for him to stop, and he shifted gears and stepped on the brake, turning his head to keep an eye on Rick and the approaching walkers.
Rick grabbed one of the piglets, lifting it out of the box. Daryl saw the man hesitate, shifting the knife in his hand as he looked down at the pink animal squirming around in his grip, raising holy hell and squealing like a bastard. The walkers were interested, alright. Daryl shifted his sweaty, greasy hand on the wheel, his right hand restlessly itching to shift the jeep into gear. "Com'on, man. Let's go!"
Rick finally took the knife to the pig, slashing a long, deep cut into its flank. Then dumped the pig on the ground as Daryl drove further away from the prison, drawing more walkers further away from the fence as others collapsed around the felled pig.
"Alright," Rick yelled, banging on the trailer, and Daryl stopped. Rick repeated the process on the second piglet, not hesitating as much this time. And then they moved on.
When he came to a stop the third time, Daryl turned around fully, surveying the walkers straggling from the fence towards the idling jeep. Craning his head, he could make out Sasha, Tyrese and Glenn working on reinforcing the fence with big wooden stakes, hauled over from fuck knows where. His eyes fell on Rick, itching to get moving again, get working on taking care of all the walkers clawing at the ground, fighting for a mouthful of pig guts. Rick had the smallest piglet now, wriggling and squealing like crazy. The man looked paler than he had before, knife hand shakier as it hovered over the pig's spotted flank. And, the quiet thought cutting through the cold rage in his mind, Daryl realized that this wasn't easy for Rick, not like it would've been for Daryl. Wasn't easy, cutting up the piglets and leaving them to get ripped to shreds. That had been Rick's work, what had been keeping Rick sane in all this. And now nearly all of that was gone, fed to the never-ending stream of fucking walkers. Might've been easier for Daryl to be the one cutting those pigs open, but Rick had known, and now Daryl was seeing, Rick had to be the one to do it.
Daryl didn't tell Rick to get a move on this time. Just watched in silence, keeping an eye on the doggedly approaching walkers. Knew the man would take care of it when he was ready, and not a minute before. Not a minute too late, neither. And Rick did take care if it, drawing the serrated edge of his blade across the pig's haunch, a spray of blood hitting his face when he did. Rick's face twisted up as he dropped the pig to the ground, wiping at the blood on his face with the backs of his hands. Daryl shifted the jeep into gear roughly, momentarily satisfied by the grinding gears and rattling engine. Twisted the wheel and headed back to the prison gates, too fast for any of the walkers trying to catch up.
All of them worked for what felt like hours, Glenn, Rick and Tyrese working on fixing up and reinforcing the fencing while Daryl, Maggie and Sasha used the long range rifles to put down walkers. Wanted to put down as many of them as they could before they all wandered back over to the fences. There was too many of them out there for them to just go out and fight face to face, so Daryl decided the all the noise the rifles would make was worth the risk, so long as they were careful with their shots.
The sun was pretty damn high in the sky by the time the fence was fixed up and enough walkers had been mowed down to risk heading out there and taking care of the corpses. They worked in tandem to take down as many stragglers as they could, any last snapping walkers that lacked a bullet or knife to the brain, keeping an eye on any loners dragging themselves out of the woods. They used the flatbed to drag the bodies away from the prison, taking them to the usual spot. They made several smaller piles, then doused them with as much gasoline as they could risk sparing, and lit them up.
Rick and Daryl hung back when everyone went back inside to finally get some food, lingering by the newly repaired fence. Rick tightened up some wires and rechecked the wooden braces they'd put up, while Daryl chucked the last little bits of half-eaten mice over the fence, throwing them as far away as he could manage. They worked in silence before finally heading over to the hoses to wash up a bit.
The water was cold, and the men didn't talk too much as they scrubbed the dried blood from their hands and arms. "Who you reckon's been feeding 'em?" Daryl finally asked, scrubbing at his forearm.
Rick sighed. "Not a goddamn clue." He met Daryl's eyes, sighing as he tried to get some of the blood off of his neck. "They were on our side of the fence. It's got to be one of our own. Just can't see who'd be doing this."
Daryl nodded his agreement. "Too many goddamn Woodbury people to keep track of."
"We're just lucky there weren't any kids out there," Rick said. "Lucky you were out there." He held Daryl's gaze for a moment longer. "Thanks, man."
"Shoulda seen it last night."
Rick shook his head. "Who knows when they were out there with those mice..." Put his hands on his hips as he trailed off, and looked out over at the now abandoned pigpen. Sighed, looking older and more tired than he usually did. Daryl felt the steady drip of cold water running down the side of his face, feeling dirty and dog tired. Another enemy in the dark. Another asshole out there putting everyone in danger. Another day spent fighting and nothing to show for it but losing something else.
Daryl looked out over at the yard. Saw the garden in the distance, the pigpen. The fence, always in sight no matter where he turned his head. Saw some folks moving around the courtyard, sticking close to the prison as they did work around the yard. And he had the feeling that was just what Rick saw too. Felt bad about those goddamn pigs. Felt better for knowing that the herd had been taken care of, that everybody inside still had their hides. And Daryl didn't begrudge Rick his moment of self-pity over the damn pigs. Wasn't easy, killing something you'd raised. Had to be done, and Rick had done it, even if he didn't want to.
"Goin' in for lunch?" Daryl asked.
"Nah," Rick answered, cutting his eyes to Daryl real quick before looking back out at his garden and pigpen. "Got some things to take care of."
Daryl clapped his hand to Rick's shoulder. "Alright, man."
…
After sneaking into the showers and jamming the doors shut, Daryl took a quick shower, scrubbing himself clean and trying to work the grit from his tired eyes. Wasn't usual for him to take a shower in the middle of the day like this, even after working all morning like he had been, but after coming inside and leaving Rick out in the yard, he'd just wanted to get cleaner than just a rinse with a hose, even before getting some food.
Felt fuckin' tired. More than usual. Hadn't slept for a damn second after coming back from Beth's cell. Just laid there, still smelling her, still feeling her. He'd gotten out of bed that morning, mind blurry with thoughts of her soft skin under his hands and trying to figure out what he was supposed to say to her next time he saw her. And Daryl hadn't figured out a damn thing, because then he'd seen the herd of walkers up against the fence, wiping his mind. Couldn't think about her then, because that moment was about keeping her and everybody else in these walls safe. But now, standing under the lukewarm spray of water, she was all he could think about. Thought about how the bared skin of her back had felt under his big hand, the play of muscles under soft skin as she arched into him, pressing herself into him. Thought about inhaling her scent as her hair brushed against his neck, thought about those tiny sounds she'd made as her chest rubbed against his. The feel of her body against him, even with the layers of clothing that separated them.
Daryl hadn't forgotten what he'd said to Beth. Hadn't forgotten how he'd held onto her hip so hard he must have left bruises, the proof that his hand had been there, on the soft white of her body. And there was some part of him that couldn't feel bad about it. Some part of him that just felt satisfied for leaving that mark there, a reminder of his skin on hers. Just like he couldn't feel regret for what he'd said to her. Wasn't any point in trying to tell a girl like Beth Greene no. Only thing a man like him could do for her was to not make any promises he couldn't keep. Daryl could only try to keep her safe. From him, from walkers, from whatever was outside those goddamn walls. Just give her what he could and hope like hell it wasn't a damn mistake.
The water was starting to run a little cold, and he'd almost thought about turning the water off and getting dressed, but he was still burning up, feeling almost the same heat that he had last night. Felt the same need for her that had kept him up all night, no matter what he did about it. He was just as hard now as he had been last night, memory and imagination tangled up in his mind and making it hard to think or breathe.
Making a strangled noise halfway between a groan and a sigh, he gave in, wrapping a hand around himself. With his eyes closed, Daryl could almost feel her again, pressed up against him. He could imagine her trembling as he pressed his mouth to where her pulse beat in her neck, her nails scratching at his shoulders as she clung to him. He could almost hear her breathing hard and heavy, face pressed to his chest as he slid his hand over the gentle curve of her belly. Daryl could see his hand sliding over her hip, his fingers running over the bruises he'd left on her, hear her sharp intake of breath, a tiny gasp of pleasure. Thought about what it'd be like to move his hand down into the front of her sweatpants, his fingers gently running over the insides of her trembling thighs before pressing into her and finding her wet. Didn't take more than the thought of her wet for him, and he was coming hard, jaw tight to keep the groan from falling from his mouth.
Felt like ages before he shook his head clear, feeling a little less on edge, small fissures of pleasure still running down the length of his back. Daryl cracked his neck as he used up the last of the warm water, rinsing from head to toe one final time before shutting the water off.
He dressed quickly, suddenly feeling aware of how long he'd been locked in there. Didn't need anyone saying anything about the shower door being jammed shut for too long. So he gathered up his shit and got the hell out of there, trying not too think too much on why he was feeling a little better leaving the shower room than he had going in.
Daryl had ditched his stuff in his cell and was heading on down for lunch when he heard the soft sound of Beth signing coming from further on down the cell block. Both times he passed by, her cell had been empty. She'd probably been out helping with the chores. But now, judging by the low, soothing sound of her voice, she was back in her cell, putting Lil' Asskicker down for a nap. And, so instead of going on down to scrounge for some lunch, he found himself walking down the cell block, drawn in by her signing.
Beth was standing near the baby's crib, voice dropping off as she gently swayed Judy. She was signing another one of those songs he didn't recognize, words sliding in and out of focus as she began to hum a bit. The baby was curled in against Beth's chest, fingers still wrapped around the longest yellow-blonde lock hanging from Beth's ponytail. Daryl watched the gentle motion of her hips as rocked the baby, the shift of her body as she moved back and forth. His eyes caught on her clean hand, rubbing small circles on Judith's back, her fingertips just a light pressure on the pale pink cotton of the baby's onesie. Got caught up looking her over, from her rounded shoulders to the crook of her elbow, from the twist of her hips to the bend of her knee.
Beth stopped singing, voice trailing off unexpectedly, and Daryl jerked his head up from studying the curve of her thigh. His neck heated up when he met her eyes, Beth staring at him just like he'd been doing to her. For the second time in less than a day, she'd caught him watching her, standing outside her cell like some kind of slack-jawed fool. He itched to cross his arms over his chest, but he didn't. Beth's blue eyes were cloudy and she was biting her lip, studying him with something like a frown on her face, her lips pursed a bit, shining a little bit where her tongue and teeth had worried the pale pink skin. Daryl instantly felt that old tightening in his belly, making him curl his hands into fists, nails digging into hard skin. Before he could figure out whatever was in her eyes, she was bending over, gently laying a sleeping Judy down. And when she looked up, her lower lip was reddening where she'd bit into it, but her eyes had gentled some, maybe looking at him with something a little more like normal. The last few days had fucked him up so bad, Daryl didn't know what was usual between them anymore. He was losing track of how a girl like her should be looking at a man like him.
Beth walked over to him, coming out of her cell to stand next to him. She twisted all those bracelets she had around her wrist, the ones covering up the scar no one ever talked about. The gnawing and tightening in his belly got worse, heat climbing up his back like the sharpened claws of some angry animal.
"Saw the fence almost went down," she said. "Carol an' I were watching through the windows. Tried to keep the kids from looking, but we were staring the whole time."
Daryl watched as she let go of the tangle of bracelets on her wrist, the leather cuff and the ribbons and braided string she always wore there. Her fist closed around empty space, clenching up for a second, and then her fingers were tugging at the hem of his flannel button-up, just above his left jeans pocket. Held his breath as she rubbed the material between her thumb and forefinger before curling her fingers into his shirt, her knuckles just barely brushing against the skin above his belt, where they'd disappeared under his shirt. Beth had her head bent, and it seemed like both of them were looking down at her tiny hand, holding onto the hem of his dirty brown shirt for dear life. Daryl's own hands felt heavy, and he thought about what he'd done that night out by the car, before he asked her what they were doing. Thought about how good it had felt to let his hands slide down her arms. Almost did it again.
But Beth finally looked up at him, and he could breathe again when her eyes hit his. They were that beautiful clear blue glass shade again, early afternoon light lighting her up and making her eyes seem lighter than usual. "I got some time before she wakes up. I can get you some lunch," she offered. "We can stay up here, if you want."
Daryl's lips twitched a bit at that. Knew why she was offering. She knew better than anyone how much he hated the way people looked to him or Rick for answers the second something fell apart. Never gave a man a damn minute to think anything through before hounding him.
"Yeah," he said. "Sounds good." Beth smiled at that, lips curving. Her knuckles brushed against the skin of his waist one more time as she let go of his shirt. His skin felt warm still, after that, the way he still felt the sun in his skin long after going inside.
As she walked away, he leaned back against the wall outside her cell, crossing his arms and huffing a breath out through his nose. Willed his skin to stop burning where she'd rubbed against him, tried to stop thinking about the way her lip had looked after she'd bit it. He made himself take slow, deep breaths as he waited for her. Tried to empty his mind as best he could, tried to cover up the thoughts of her that were driving him crazy. Might not be able to blank them all out, but Daryl reckoned he might try keeping them from taking over his mind.
Only a handful of minutes later, Beth was coming back up the stairs with a bowl of food and a bottle of water. She was walking that way she did whenever she was taking care of something for somebody, or when she had the baby in her arms. Careful and quick moving all at once, steady and still somehow lithe, a supple line from neck down her spine that always kept her graceful.
"Where do you wanna sit?" she asked. "Just don't want to get too far away, 'case she wakes up."
Looked down at the concrete floor he was standing on, that familiar bit of worn concrete outside her cell. "Here's fine," Daryl said, taking the bowl of rice and meat from her and then sitting his ass down, back to the wall. Looked up at her, standing over him with the water bottle in her hands. "You sittin'?" he asked, one brow raised.
She rolled her eyes at him before sitting down next to him, scooting close enough that his arm touched hers every time he brought his fork to his mouth. He felt better after wolfing down his late lunch, suddenly realizing just how good it felt to get some food in him after working from before breakfast until after lunch. No matter how used to all this shit he was, desensitized or numb or whatever anybody wanted to call it, there was always some part of him that, for a few minutes of recognition at least, felt off-balance.
One time when he was a kid, Daryl had gone out into the woods alone, trying to catch frogs in the crick a couple of miles out from home. He'd been walking barefoot across the slimy, algae green rocks, when a big bull frog had caught his attention. Made a lunging move for it, hands outstretched. But everything slowed down, nearly to a halt, when his foot slid off the side of the rock, his whole body tipping, weightless, belly up in his throat and lungs between his ears. Everything was still, sound gone and air not rushing past him, just holding him upright for one long second as his eyes took in everything around him. Saw the smooth, hard river rocks and cold water beneath his falling body. Saw the frog leaping away from his empty hands. Saw his own skinny arms, sunburnt, freckled, bruised and cut up. And just as soon as he saw all that, really felt all that in every part of his body, he was hitting the shallow water and the rocks underneath. His ankle was twisted to shit, bruises and cuts up and down his body and clothes soaked with stinky, stagnant crick water. It took him so long to get home that Merle had even bothered to come out looking for him, cigarette between his lips and dime bag in his back pocket. After thwacking him over the head and bitching him out, his brother had given him a piggyback ride back to the house. Got him a popsicle and a hunk of frozen pork belly to put on his ankle before heading out to go drinking with the other older kids, leaving Daryl alone on the threadbare couch with the funny pages.
Daryl always remembered that feeling of falling, the way it shook him up from head to toe, pulling everything out of focus before pushing it all, crystal clear, back into his face. Remembered it because he always felt it, in all those moments when shit had gone to hell and back. Remembered it because he'd learned the hard way to catch himself before hitting the water and the rocks below.
Rubbing at his forehead with the side of his hand, he set his empty bowl down. Beth held up the water bottle and he took it from her, drinking down half of it in one go before capping it off and setting that down too.
They both sat there, legs stretched out in front of them and backs pressed to the wall, Beth humming and Daryl just breathing steady, feeling more put together than he had in days. Felt good to be just sitting there, listening to Beth hum as she leaned towards him, her arm pressing against him, worn cotton and velvet-fine skin cool against his hot skin. She was humming a melody that made him think of her standing on stage in some backwoods bar, hair down around her shoulders, her voice silvery and smoky all at once. Not that a girl like her would've ever been caught in any of the bars he and Merle had gone to. But it was nice to think about. Nice to imagine drinking a cold beer and having a smoke while she sang to a building full of people. Nice to imagine getting to hear her sing like that, and then have her come next to him in a booth, just like she was now, bare arms pressed together and legs brushing against each other under the table. Nice to imagine her hand on his thigh and his mouth to her ear as everybody else looked on, jealous as a snake.
Beth had her head ducked down, and whatever song she was humming had started to meander. "You tired?" he asked, watching her fingers where she was tapping out a slow-moving rhythm on her jean clad thighs.
"Hmm?" Beth said, lifting up her head to look at him. Her brows were pulled together and she was biting her lip again. "Oh," she said on an inhalation. "Mind's just wandering," she supplied, giving him a half smile. She turned back out to the big windows, squinting and breathing out a quiet sigh as she peered at the sun. Daryl watched as she stretched her hands, fingers flexing before they settled back down on her thighs.
His own hands were just resting in his lap, and he thought about how easy it might be, to just reach over and pick up one of her small hands in his own huge one. Beth could slide her hand into his without even thinking about it. Without him resisting for one goddamn second. She'd done it the night before when she'd pulled him into her cell. And here he was, older than her by nearly twenty years and he couldn't figure out how she went about it. Daryl's whole body felt like it was pulled tight, all muscles strapped to bone and getting tighter. And his mind just wouldn't let go of the thought of being able to put his hand around hers.
Beth's hair brushed against his arm, her shoulders slumped a little more, and then she was leaning against him, resting against him more fully. "I lied," she murmured. "I'm so awfully tired."
Daryl reached out, careful not to jostle her too much. Found her tiny wrist with his hand, then slid his hand down further. Let his whole hand cover up those tiny fingers of hers and the underside of his forearm rest against hers. Not squeezing or lacing their fingers together. Just his hand wrapped around hers, and Daryl closed his eyes, feeling nothing but all the places their bodies were touching. Her hair against his arm, and the soft curve of her cheek. Her hip lined up with his and their forearms pressed together on her thigh. And then, her hand resting in his, all fine-boned and soft compared to the heavy weight and callused surface of his own. He could feel Beth's thumb, moving up and down against his smallest finger, feather-light repetition that made his whole mind slow down, made every bit of blood moving just under the skin throb just that much more.
"Yeah," Daryl gruffly mumbled back. "Me, too."
They stayed like that for some time, alone in the quiet, empty cellblock, just the muffled sounds of whatever was going on below. Daryl just kept his eyes closed and mind blank, feeling her next to him and her hand under his. Just breathing in and out, smelling her sweet scent and enjoying her warmth. Stayed like that until Judith woke up with a grumbling cry and Beth gently disentangled herself from him. She gave his hand a quick squeeze before getting on her feet, and he stayed on the ground for another moment, watching her move. Tried to memorize the tighten and release of her muscles, the way they moved under her skin as she stretched her back and arms, that arching, inward curve under the back of her shirt, before getting to his own feet.
Daryl moved to the entrance of her cell, leaning against the cement and watched as Beth scooped up Judith, who was gnawing on her fist and kicking her legs a bit. "After dinner?" he asked.
Beth gave him one of those soft smiles, the kind that made her eyes gentle. "Yeah." So he nodded, giving her one last look, and then he was off.
Always something else to get done.
…
Daryl leaned back against the couch, map book of Georgia open in front of him, but he wasn't looking at it, not thinking about the whispers and questions that had been directed at him and Rick all through dinner. Instead, he was watching Beth, who was slowly walking in front of the stacks, and had been for going on ten minutes now. She kept pulling books down off the shelf, reading the backs and flipping through them, sometimes with her nose wrinkled up, other times frowning or rubbing at the back of her neck. She'd lean on one leg, scuffing the opposite foot against the linoleum floor, flipping through the book for a minute or two before putting it back on the shelf. And then she'd begin all over again.
As he watched, a book on the top shelf caught her attention. Beth stood on her tiptoes, balancing one hand on a shelf and reaching up. Her back, that long line of her spine, the inward dip of her waist and the wider curve of her hips, all on display for him. Saw the just right curve of her ass, the perfect roundness for a girl as slender as her. Daryl thought about getting up, standing behind her and pressing his hips into hers, pinning her between his body and the shelf. Thought about whatever sound she might make. Thought about burying his face in her hair before finding the back of her ear and putting his mouth there. And he was torn, because he was thinking of how impossible it would be, to just walk over and help her take down that book like he didn't want to fuck her right where she stood. But Daryl got to his feet anyways, knowing that there was a big difference between wanting a girl like that and actually being able to go through with it. Any other girl, it would've been easy. Just act on it.
But a girl like her? Girl he knew he didn't deserve to be around? Wanting didn't mean the same thing to him. Not these days.
And then she was reaching further, her shirt pulling up. His mouth went dry as he took in the white curve of her hip and the dark smudge of a shadowy purple bruise just where his thumb had been the night before. Not big, not dark. Just a tiny mark that could've been from anything. And everything around him slowed, stilled, just like it had when he was a kid, falling from a rock. Saw his own big hands, dark and scarred up. And he saw the curve of her tiny white hip, remembered just how it had fit right in his palm. Saw her hair, sweeping across her back, and the tilt of her head from where she was looking up at the top of the shelf. Felt his body react, his blood running hot and a tightness in his back and shoulders that had nothing to do with any of the work he'd done today. And all the shit about wanting, the shit he thought he knew, when straight out of his mind.
It was only a few steps and he was behind Beth, his left arm hooked hard around her belly, dragging her against him, her soft ass right pressed up against his erection. Daryl had his other hand gripping the shelf above her head, knuckles white and the metal cold on his skin. He heard her gasp and the hitch in her breathing that followed it. Felt the jolt in her body before she settled against him, one hand on her necklace, the other arm on top of the arm digging into her belly, her small, smooth hand stretched out over the back of his big one. He heard the harshness of his own breath, all of it echoing loudly in his ears or the quiet of the room, he couldn't tell. Just knew his breath was coming in pants against the back of her head, her ponytail brushing his jaw. Daryl could smell her, and that raw scent was stronger than ever, raising straight off her skin and hitting him straight in the chest. He stood still for a long minute, his fingers wrapping around her waist and his forearm locked just above the waist of her jeans. He could see over her shoulder, his eyes sliding down her sternum, watching her breasts rise and fall under her shirt as she took unsteady, shallow breaths. Saw the flush spreading across Beth's soft, white skin.
Involuntarily, his fingers tightened on the yielding flesh of her waist, and she made a quiet noise, halfway between a moan and a cry, arching her hips back into him just a little more. She felt so good, pressed against him like she was, shivering, and he growled, squeezing his eyes shut. His hand tightened on the bookshelf, the sharp metal lip digging into his thumb, and he fought the urge to let his hands do whatever they wanted. Letting out one long, shaky breath, he squeezed her hip one last time and let her go, still hanging onto the bookshelf, eyes still closed.
Beth brushed against him as she twisted around. He flinched when her hands pressed against his chest, her fingers gripping his shirt. "Daryl," she whispered. "Daryl."
He opened up his eyes, and she was looking up at him, studying him with blue eyes darker than he'd ever seen before. "Beth… I—"
"Don't. We don't have time for that. I don't have time for that." Her eyes were burning, so dark they were almost a new shade of blue, something he'd never seen before. Burning up his skin as her eyes searched his face. "You can walk away, or you can stay right here. But don't you dare waste my time by lyin' to me."
He stared at her, just hearing the ragged sound of his breath and the blood pounding in his ears. Beth's expression softened after a moment, seeing something there in his face. Her eyes were still dark, dark blue, weighing heavily on his face, but her mouth was softening, lips parting. Felt her right hand loosen up on his shirt, the pads of her fingers rubbing against him softly. Daryl dropped his head, staring down at her wrists and arms, her fingers gripping his dirty brown shirt. "Look. We can talk it to death later. We can never talk about it, if that's what you have to do. But right now, don't pretend with me. It was always going to come down to this. So don't you lie to me again." Beth's voice was almost pleading, but he knew that she didn't do that. Knew she wouldn't ever beg him. She'd offer herself to him a handful of times. Only let him get away with lying to her so many times. How many times did he have left?
Daryl felt her hands shift, holding on more firmly. He felt her move close, the brush of her hips as she shifted her weight. And then he felt the lightest touch, her soft lips brushing at the corner of his mouth. Felt the warmth of her skin as he breathed her in, still that raw scent that was all her. Felt how soft her lips were, just a little wet where they pressed into his skin, as the tip of her nose rubbed across his cheek for a brief second. Felt the whole world, moving slower than ever, just so he could remember every bit of Beth Greene kissing him.
Just like that, the world snapped back into focus. And Daryl just reacted. Lowered his head, angling his jaw, and pressed his lips to hers. Daryl closed his eyes at the feel of her mouth under his, her lips full and yielding as she returned the kiss. Gentler than he was used to, more aching. But rougher, too. More raw. Beth shivered, a tremble he felt in all the places their bodies were locked together. Felt his body echo hers, a cold heat spreading across the width his shoulders and down the long curve of his spine.
Dropping his hand from the shelf, he let it brush against the long, tangled waves of her ponytail before he placed it on the back of her neck, all her delicate vertebrae shifting under his calloused palm while his thumb stroked her pulse. His free arm wrapped around her waist, more gently than the hard desperation of earlier. Beth stepped closer to him, breasts brushing against him more fully. In the next instant, he nipped her, just a little pressure on the soft, plump skin of her wet lower lip. Felt her hands tighten, curling into fists against his chest, and he had to fight the shudder that threatened to ripple over his shoulders. Beth opened her mouth to him when his teeth let go of her lower lip, making a noise in her throat, a noise he felt so acutely it was almost like pain. She tasted good, he realized, as he stroked his tongue against hers. Better than anything he'd ever had his mouth on. Unable to stop, his hand gripped her neck just a little harder. Felt the blood pounding in his body and hers, and his other hand swept upwards, searching out the small of her back, clenching her shirt in his fist.
As his mouth slanted over hers, Daryl felt strangely at peace, all while his body was burning. Didn't want to fuck her where she stood. Not yet. Just wanted to taste her. Just wanted his hand on her neck. Wanted her fingers wrapped up in his shirt and her body brushing against his. Just wanted this moment up against the stacks. Beth was right. It was always going to come down to this, whatever was between them. There was always going to be some moment like this, where he finally gave into her. And this, just his mouth on hers, hands not straying too far, just this. This was enough for him. This was enough for now.
Pressing one last kiss to her mouth, Daryl pulled back, opening his eyes to the dim room around them. Stayed holding onto her, and she kept her hands on his shirt as she looked up at him with those dark, dark blue eyes he'd never seen before this night.
And then she just smiled up at him, swollen lips curving into satisfied smile. And Daryl had to ask himself how he took so goddamn long to get here.
…
A/N: Finally managed to get them kissing. Hope this extra-long chapter was worth the extra-long wait?! So, review, review! Tell me what you think! And thank you for your patience, and all the love the last chapter got. Seriously, love you all. Also, I apologize if there are any errors. I've been editing forever, and I'm just at the point where I want to get it out to you all.
This chapter has a special dedication to Niallbranson, for making, like, the best gif set on tumblr. It's Bethyl gif set, obviously, with lyrics from the Astronautalis song "The River, The Woods," because it gives me such feels for "Still" and "Alone." Like, ugh, everyone go listen to that song and find that gif set on my tumblr. And show Niallbranson all your love!
This is something I meant to address in last chapter's AN and I totally forgot. Someone asked in a review, and it's something I should share in general, as well. This story is sort of playing fast and loose with cannon. This story is more about character development than plot, and so I'm not going to include all of the plot of Season 4. There's going to be some deviation. I'm still working it out in my mind, but some of Season 4 will crop up in this story, and some of it won't. I'm stretching out the flu time line, giving me some more free time for Daryl and Beth to progress in their relationship, and honestly, I kind of want to just entirely alter ALL of the Governor business. Feel free to ask if you have more questions about this, and I'll be happy to answer (although I don't want to give too much away!)
Also, something else. There will be sex in this story (When, you ask?! You'll see!). I know some of you feel like you've been waiting an eternity for it. And I know some of you don't want this story to turn into one that's all about the sex. But what sex will happen in this story, is going to be important to Daryl's growth as a person, and important to their growth as a couple. It won't be gratuitous, but it will be there, and probably rather explicit, if this chapter has been any indication of what explicit means to you/me/the world at large. Message me if you have any concerns!
Okay, that's more than enough bullshit from me. Come chat me up on tumblr: CoraRochester.