The Saints

Chapter 5

They'd only been on the road for a few minutes before Beth moved. She started looking through the bags for the medical supplies. Once she'd found them she climbed into the middle again, perching herself on the console and started to patch up Connor, her back to Daryl. He didn't know what to say or what he could do to make any of this better for her. He wished he could go back in time, take it all back, never take her, but now she was here, and in the middle of all of this. Connor thanked her softly as she turned around on the console, facing Daryl. He growled, darkly, lowly, when he saw the bruise on her face from where she'd been slapped.

She flinched away from him and he felt worse. Slowly she relaxed again and started to look at the wound on his right shoulder. She huffed when she couldn't look at it right and slid off the center console so she was sitting in his lap, straddling him. Daryl tensed up but didn't say anything, or miss the smirk Connor shot at him. He tried to ignore the way she felt on his lap, the way her hands felt against his skin, the way her eyes were concentrated on him, fierce and intense.

She quickly stitched him up and covered the wound with a bandage before jumping into the back seat again. They still weren't talking to each other. Connor pulled into Merle's driveway and they found their cousin outside, working on his motorcycle. He looked up, wiping his hands as they climbed out of the car. "Well, ain't this a surprise?" he asked, hugging them both. "Been a while."

Connor nodded his head. "Aye, do you mind if we hang out for a bit?" he asked.

Merle shook his head and eyed Beth. "Course not. Who's she?" he asked as he grabbed the bags out of the back. Daryl went over and took them from her.

"A friend," Daryl assured him, leading her inside. "There's a room down the hall on the left," he told her, handing her the bag with all of her things inside of it. She didn't say a word as she took the bag and walked down the hall. Daryl sighed and ran his hand through his hair, following her back. "Do you need anything?" he asked.

"No, I just want to sleep."

Daryl nodded his head and slowly walked out, closing the door behind him. He rubbed his face as he walked back to the living room where Connor was filling Merle in on everything that had happened. "So you kidnapped a girl, and now you're supposed to be protecting her?" Merle asked.

Connor nodded his head. "That about sums it up, yeah." He sighed and lit a cigarette, handing it to Daryl as he sat down. "What could we do, we couldn't just let her die, it's sort of our fault she's here."

Merle sighed and rubbed his face. "Well, what are you gonna do now?"

Daryl took a long hit from his cigarette. "We have two choices; either we get out of the country, or we kill 'em all."

Merle sighed and grabbed three beers from the fridge. "Well, let's face it; you two ain't gonna just leave the country and let them Italians and Russians run around." He sighed, leaning back in his chair and lighting his own cigarette. "Whatever you guys need, I got your backs."

Connor and Daryl both nodded, thanking him. "We're going to have to take them down at the same time. If they're working together, that shouldn't be hard to do…"

…

Beth could hear them talking, they were planning to go to war with the Italians and the Russians and she didn't like it; not one bit. Connor and Daryl had saved her life twice now. Once back at the apartment, and again today when the Russians and Italians had attacked the house. She couldn't let them risk their lives again, not for her; especially now that she realized she was in love with Daryl. How could she not be? He'd risked his life for hers twice, taken bullets for her, twice. He was always making sure she was alright; that she had what she needed, always taking care of her, and the way he'd acted when he'd seen the bruise on her face? It had been game over from there.

She curled up into a ball and tried to talk herself out of it, tried to convince herself that falling for Daryl was a bad idea. But, for ever reason her brain came up with one reason it was a bad idea, her heart came up with two reasons why it was a good idea. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She was in too deep now; there was no way she was going to get out of this one. She laid there and thought about everything that had happened that had led to this point.

She was conflicted. How could she be happy? How could she admit that she was in love with someone when her family was dead, and she was the next target? How could she even tell Daryl how she felt when he was getting ready to go to war with the Russian and Italians mobs to keep her safe? She couldn't put that weight on his shoulders. She knew that he blamed himself for getting her into this mess, but the more she thought about it the more she realized that she'd be dead if it wasn't for him. The Russians and Italians still would have found out about her father and killed them all. She'd be six feet under if Daryl hadn't kidnapped her. Stockholm syndrome or no, she was in love with Daryl.

Later, after she'd heard their voices get replaced by the television, he knocked on the door and slowly walked into the room. "Just came to see if you needed anything." He slowly walked over to the bed as she sat up.

Beth shook her head, looking up at him as he stared down at her with those blue diamond eyes. "No," she said softly, sitting up on her knees. She bit her lip, wondering if this was a good idea. He watched her as she slowly reached up and cupped his face in her hands, leaning in and kissing him. She could feel him starting to kiss back; she took that as a good sign, especially when his arms encircled his waist. She pressed against him, moaning softly. That seemed to snap him out of it. He pulled away and ran a hand through his hair as he back against the wall. "Daryl?"

He shook his head. "We can't." He turned and left, letting the door click shut behind him. Beth sighed and curled up on the bed again staring at the wall. She was such an idiot.