A/N: Alright everyone, I hope you enjoy chapter 22! I hope you're all happy that I didn't leave you in cliffhanger hell for too long this time around. Right? RIGHT?!

As always, I really appreciate all of the reviews! Almost everyone really likes the story, so I'm glad that the really slow burn hasn't bored everyone to tears. I wasn't lying when I said I liked the slow build-ups best. Also, welcome to all of my newer followers and favoriters.

Enjoy!

Chapter 22

"He's been gone too long," Beth said for the tenth time. Her anxiety was escalating as she and Sasha sat and waited inside Sasha's little SUV. The sleet had finally begun to show a reprieve and the visibility was somewhat returning, at least. A few officers and leftover volunteers who'd opted to wait out the storm had eventually started to trickle back into the woods to resume their search efforts.

Daryl, meanwhile, hadn't shown back up since he left her at the ambulance, which was hours ago. As she waited, her mind tortured her with a hundred different scenarios of him in peril while she sat around in relative warmth. He could have fallen into another river or that ravine, or gotten himself caught in a trap, or even fell and hurt himself and couldn't make it back on his own…

But Daryl is nothing like her, Beth reminded herself over and over again. Daryl knew the woods more intimately than some men knew their own wives, and if anyone could survive the storm and find Sophia in the impossible elements, it would be Daryl Dixon.

Sasha patted Beth's hand comfortingly, although she looked half asleep with her head resting on her arm that was draped over her steering wheel. They'd all been out there for hours; the sun would come up pretty soon.

Suddenly, through the closed windows, they heard raised voices and shouts back and forth between the searchers in the woods. They both climbed out of the car to see what all of the commotion was about.

Finally, a figure broke through the trees, and Beth let out a choked laugh that bordered on a sob; it was Daryl. He was limping slightly as he walked, and Beth noted that his sleeveless arms were bare; his hair was caked at the tips with ice. Her eyes drifted over him, pausing at the smear of bright red blood, still freshly running, from his forearm, which looked torn and gruesome.

Lastly, her mind allowed her to shift her focus to the bundle he had in his arms.

Daryl was cradling a small body wrapped entirely in his jacket. Only two limp, skinny, pajama-clad legs protruded out from his huge coat, slung over his bloody forearm, swinging with each step that brought him closer. Beth felt the strength leaving her legs, and she sank to her knees on the sodden ground.

He'd done it; he'd found Sophia just like Beth knew he would. But they'd been too late.

Searchers had surrounded him, but Beth could only focus on the little legs slung over Daryl's mysterious injury, the little kittens and cupcakes printed on the pajamas blurring as tears filled Beth's eyes. Rick had walked over and Beth knew Daryl was saying something to him, but her ears were too filled with white noise to make out their conversation, and she was worried she was going to lose consciousness. It had been hours since she'd eaten, drank, or slept, and now that it was all over… her spent energy and heightened stress had left her nothing but a husk.

She thought about tiny little Sophia, with her short, light brown hair, her freckles and her beautiful eyes, hunkered down in the woods, alone, afraid, and freezing; until the life had left her small body. Beth couldn't help but wonder, if Daryl hadn't needed to carry her all the way back to the highway earlier, would he have found Sophia in time?

Someone had finally found and alerted Carol, and Beth's heart hurt as she watched the older woman lurch forward toward Daryl and Sophia. Boldly, Carol peeled Daryl's jacket away from Sophia's face; Beth could see that the child had a couple of scratches on her. She looked so peaceful, as though she could have been asleep.

Then, the girl's eyelids fluttered open, and a huge smile broke across her face at the sight of her mom standing over her. Carol plucked Sophia out of Daryl's arms and crushed her to her body, simultaneously laughing and crying as she swung the girl around in circles. The crowd had erupted in cheers and applause, plenty of people coming over to pat Daryl on the back or tell him he did a great job.

Beth suddenly realized that no one else looked as shocked as she felt; apparently, she'd missed the announcement that Sophia had been found alive. She seemed to be the only person who'd assumed the worst, and although she felt a little ashamed of that fact, it was eclipsed by the rush of relief. Sophia would go on to celebrate her eleventh birthday.

Beth climbed back to her feet, thankful that the painkillers the EMT had given her earlier hadn't yet worn off. He'd informed her that her ankle wasn't broken, but the bones were definitely badly bruised and possibly fractured, although only an X-ray could tell her for sure. He'd urged her to get to the hospital and have it looked at, but Beth had refused to leave without Daryl.

She turned her attention to the man in question, making her way through the crowd that had gathered around the scene. The pain in her ankle was still present, but dull, so she was able to hobble under her own power.

As she squeezed her way through the throng of people, she found Daryl staring down at Rick, who was crouched next to a giant dog. Not just any dog, Beth realized; it was the red monster that had chased her into the bramble bushes right before she'd met Daryl for the first time.

Carol set Sophia down on the ground, and the girl rushed over to the dog.

"Wait!" Beth shouted, stepping forward on her back ankle and cringing; but it was too late. The girl dropped to her knees and wrapped her skinny arms around the beast's massive neck, burying her face in its fur. Although Beth had expected a vicious retaliation, the dog just sat still and panted, not seeming to mind the young girl's affections.

Daryl turned to Beth after she cried out, his eyebrows raised in surprise. People were still trying to shake his hand and congratulate him, but Daryl ignored them and walked away, closing the distance between him and Beth until he was right in front of her.

"What the hell are you still doin' here?" he asked, unconsciously putting his hand on her arm. She loved that he'd gotten comfortable enough that touching her didn't weird him out so bad anymore.

She was so happy to see him; elated even. She wanted to tell him how much she'd missed him, and how brave and selfless he was. It shocked her when the first words out of her mouth were, "What the hell took you so long?"

"Excuse me?" he said, his eyebrows pinching down in a scowl.

"You were gone for hours," she accused, feeling herself falling apart. The tears came quickly and streaked down her face in a flood. "I was so worried; I thought something terrible had happened to you! No one knew where you were, and you hadn't come back all night; you were just gone, Daryl! I thought you'd fallen into that ravine, or… or…"

"I think she's going into shock," Sasha whispered at Daryl's elbow as she came around to look at Beth with concern written all over her face. "Beth, sweetie, it's fine. Daryl brought Sophia back; everyone is safe. There's no need to be upset anymore, okay?"

Beth nodded, knowing how ridiculous she sounded. She covered her mouth with her hands, finding it impossible to quit crying. If anything, trying to stop was only making it worse.

Sasha elbowed Daryl and looked pointedly in Beth's direction. In turn, he glared at her until she left them alone.

As soon as Sasha strode off to go see to Carol, Daryl stepped forward and threw his jacket over Beth's shoulders, despite the fact that she still had her own jacket on.

"I'm so sorry," she said, wiping at her face. "I don't know what's wrong with me… If you hadn't been out there looking as hard as you did, Sophia wouldn't even be here. That was such a selfish outburst… I just… I thought something terrible had happened to you. I had such a bad feeling that something was wrong…"

She wasn't sure if Daryl was mad at her for yelling at him or not, but at the moment, all she needed was his comfort, so she did one more selfish thing and wrapped her arms around his waist. She pressed her face into his chest and inhaled his mixed scent of sweat and motor oil. Being pressed against him, having him solidly under her hands was exactly what she'd needed, and she felt herself calming down.

"I'm sorry I scared you," Daryl murmured quietly, wrapping his arms around her in return.

"What happened to your arm, anyway?" she asked, looking down at the torn skin. The sight made her a little ill; it was very gory. So she turned her face to the other side and closed her eyes, listening to the erratic thumping of his heart, willing her stomach to settle.

"Your stuffed animal's fuckin' doppelganger attacked me," Daryl said, his voice rumbling through his chest.

"So something bad did happen to you," she said accusingly, lifting her head to look up at him.

Daryl only smirked at her. "Maybe this time. Just 'cause you get chased into bramble bushes an' step into damned animal traps while you're 'n the woods, doesn't mean we're all so accident prone, though…"

"I seem to remember you falling into a river, once," Beth pointed out.

"Yeah, well, that fuckin' dog came at me, an' I slipped. Tha' shit was hardly my fault," Daryl argued.

"Wait, what dog? That dog?" Beth asked, pointing to the red beast that was eying the crowd of people like he was willing to eat one of them.

"No," Daryl said, but she could tell by the way his jaw clenched that he was lying.

"You mean to tell me that you accused me of over-reacting and exaggerating my story about that red monster chasing me into those thorny bushes, and this whole time, you've been keeping it from me that the damn thing chased you into a river?!" She couldn't believe it! Although, it really explained how Daryl was able to buy her a stuffed animal that was spot-on. She hadn't even remembered telling him the thing was red; but he'd apparently seen it up close and personal himself.

Before he could answer her, Rick came over and slapped Daryl on the back. "You did a great job, Daryl," he said. "I've been wrong about you for a long time, it seems. Without you, I don't know that we'd have found that little girl in time. Thank you."

Rick held out his hand, which Daryl hesitantly accepted, keeping one arm wrapped around Beth for support.

As they shook hands, Rick paused and checked over Daryl's bloody forearm. "That looks pretty serious; did the dog do that?"

"Yeah," Daryl admitted, "but he was jus' protectin' the girl. He was keepin' her warm; I think without the dog, she might not've survived out here so long. They were curled up t'gether near a fallen tree when I stumbled across 'em."

Rick nodded and said, "Pretty admirable of him, too, I guess. Just to be safe, I'm going to have the animal shelter take him in for observation for a few days, though. Let me know if the hospital needs any blood samples from him or anything."

Daryl nodded, and Rick smiled at Beth, tipping his hat. "Thank you, as well, Beth, for helping; and for calling in Daryl. You two saved the day."

Beth smiled at the sheriff and nodded, although she felt like getting caught in an animal trap and needing to be carried back by Daryl wasn't exactly her definition of 'helping.'

As Rick was walking away, Carol came over, and Beth felt Daryl tense around her. She could tell that so much attention from all these people was wearing him thin.

"Daryl, thank you so much," Carol said with tears streaming down her face. "I don't know how I'll ever repay you for what you did for Sophia and me. You saved both of us. Just… thank you."

Beth stepped forward and gave Carol a huge hug, saving Daryl the awkwardness of responding. "We're so glad she's safe," Beth said. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Once they broke out of their embrace, Carol wiped her eyes and laughed a little bit. "I don't know if loss is the right word. Ed was my husband, and I loved him, but…" Carol pressed her lips together as if what she had to say was too terrible to speak. Beth understood all too well; she still felt guilty over what happened to Zach, and that wasn't anyone's fault. But he'd still been a terrible, awful person.

Finally, Carol looked back over at Daryl and told him, "You've done more tonight for my little girl than her daddy did for her in his entire life. You're a good man, Daryl Dixon. A good man."

After Carol walked back over to Sophia and the dog, Beth looked up at Daryl and realized his face was burning red.

"Well, I guess your secret's out," she said, hiding a smile as she looked back over the scene. People were finally departing, and getting back into their vehicles. News crews were off to the sidelines; Rick wouldn't let them past the perimeter he'd taped up. All in all, it turned out to be a great night.

"What secret?" Daryl asked gruffly.

"That you're an amazing person," she said, smiling at him.

"Didja hit your head while I was gone?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her; but if anything, his face had gotten redder.

"You can be mad about it all you want, Daryl, but it's done. Your bad reputation is hereby ruined."

"Shut it," he told her, but she should see the smirk on his face. "This is more fuckin' painful than the damn dog bite."

"Yeah, we should really get that looked at," Beth said, glancing back down at the torn skin.

Daryl grunted, but he held on tight to Beth as they both limped their way over to the last ambulance left; Carol and Sophia had already been ushered into the first one and it was on its way to the hospital with a police escort.

The medic that attended to Daryl in the back of the ambulance sterilized his wound and wrapped it up for him, but warned him that they needed to get to the emergency room so that he could get a host of shots to combat infection. As they made their way to Daryl's truck that was sitting desolate and alone further down the highway, now that most of the volunteers had cleared out and gone home, Beth felt her ankle begging to give out on her. Daryl seemed to notice, too, so without a word, he swept her up into his arms and carried her the rest of the way to the truck. After they were all buckled in, he pulled back onto the highway and headed for the nearest 24-hour Emergency center.

Once in the ER, they were handed clipboards with forms to fill out and directed to take their seats in the waiting room. The night had gotten anti-climatic pretty quickly, and Beth felt the grogginess taking over. She curled up in the chair next to Daryl and laid her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes for a moment, listening to the soft scratching of the pen against the paper as he filled out his set of forms.

She was nearly asleep when she felt him slip the clipboard out from under her folded arms. She heard scratching against that one, too, and he asked, "Is 'Beth' short for 'Elizabeth'?"

"No," she said, snuggling into his shoulder more. "It's just Beth."

"Middle name?"

"Emily."

"Birthday?"

"December 12th, 1990" she said, yawning.

"…December 12th is today's date," Daryl responded.

Realizing she wasn't going to get any sleep, she sat up in her chair and stretched, smiling at Daryl's frowning face.

"Believe it or not, this isn't the worst place I've spent a birthday," she told him. "The year before last, when I was still with Zach, he texted me this random address of the place I was supposed to meet him at, but wouldn't tell me anything else. He said he wanted it to be a surprise. I got there, and it was this weird hole-in-the-wall place with older, creepy patrons and fire dancers that were practically having intercourse on stage. It was extremely disturbing, and I kept getting leered at by this one older guy who looked like he was more interested in wearing my skin as a suit. So I got the hell out of there, but by then my phone had died, and I couldn't find another cab to hail to get back to my part of the city. I had to walk three blocks before I found a cabbie willing to pull over; it was terrifying. Then I got home and got my phone plugged in, and I'd had like 6 missed calls from Zach, and a whole slew of voicemails and texts of him basically telling me how terrible he thought I was for blowing him off, not answering my phone, and ruining the big night he supposedly had planned."

Beth laughed a little at the memory as she looked down and scraped some dirt off of her nail bed. She definitely needed a long, hot bubble bath whenever she made it back home; she was just as desperate to wash off the lingering memories as she was the mud.

She glanced over at Daryl and realized that he was glaring at the page in front of him, pen still poised to write, but he was tense and still, his jaw muscles clenched and hard.

"Don't let it bother you," she told him. She knew where his thoughts had led him. For someone who seemed so antisocial and aggressive upon first impression, Daryl had become shockingly protective of her as time went on. It was no use having him stress out over events that occurred before they'd even met, though.

"I hate tha' fucker," Daryl said simply, glancing over at her from under his bangs.

She shrugged off his anger, trying for a lighter mood. "It was an adventure. That's all life is, Daryl; a series of adventures. You go from one to the next and hopefully you're made whole by the good experiences and you learn from the bad. It was an unfortunate time in my life, but now I know what warning signs to look for in people like Zach; next time, I'll know to not get involved. And that misadventure led me here, to the cabin; to Carol and Sophia, Lori and Rick, Sasha… it led me to you."

They stared at each other for a moment until the door to the waiting room opened and a nurse with a clipboard called out "Daryl Dixon."

He hesitated, obviously not comfortable with leaving her alone. She smiled at him as he considered what to do. "I'll be right behind you. I'll meet you back out here when we're all patched up, okay?"

Chewing his lip, Daryl nodded. He handed her clipboard back to her and then went over to the nurse with his paperwork. Before stepping through the door, he glanced back at Beth like he was concerned about leaving her still.

She stuck her tongue out at him, which earned her a confused scowl before the door shut, and she was alone.

Not long after, Beth's name was called, and they wheeled her back for X-rays. Thankfully, just as the EMT at the site had said, her bones were pretty bruised, but nothing had been broken or fractured. They re-wrapped her foot tightly, put her sock back onto her, and then Velcroed one of the blue boots onto her to keep her ankle sturdy when she walked on it.

Since she'd forgotten her purse at Sasha's, Daryl paid for both of their visits; Beth was thankful that her medical insurance wouldn't lapse until the very end of the year, so she got by with only a minor co-pay to worry about before she had to worry about the X-ray bills rolling in.

As they had driven back to Beth's cabin, the storm was raging on. The windshield wipers were on full-blast in the attempt to keep the view of the road clear, and Beth was so thankful that Daryl had been able to locate Sophia in time.

Beth laid her head back against the seat in the truck because it had become too heavy to hold up. The exhaustion of the day, combined with the painkillers that the ER issued her, were mixing into a concoction of drowsiness that she hadn't experienced in quite awhile. She rolled her head to the side and stared up at Daryl's profile as he drove, the blue glow from the after-market CD player lit up the edges of his face, touching upon every little hair on his stubbly chin, making him seem otherworldly.

After a few minutes, Daryl glanced at her and visibly flinched. "Jesus Christ… what the hell are you starin' at me for? I though' you were asleep."

"Will you stay with me tonight?" she asked.

Daryl shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but glanced back over at her briefly, contemplating his answer.

"Yeah, I guess I could stay," he said slowly. "Still too scared, bein' in the cabin alone?"

"No, not tonight," she said with a smile, feeling her eyes slide closed.

She woke whenever she felt Daryl park and shut the truck off. The elements were viciously attacking the outside of the vehicle, and as she sat up, Beth knew getting into the cabin wasn't going to be fun.

Daryl cursed under his breath, seeming to realize something. "I forgot y'left your purse at what's-her-face's house…"

"Sasha," Beth corrected him, grinning at his general disinterest in people; except for her, apparently. "But it's no big deal; I keep a spare key hidden outside, just in case."

"A'right," he said. "Ready when you are, then."

Beth felt like her head was swimming a bit; whatever they'd given her at the hospital to manage her pain was a lot stronger than what she'd taken in the ambulance a few hours ago.

Feeling a little disconnected, but pleasantly so, Beth grinned over at Daryl and said, "Okay, on three. One… Two…" Daryl frowned at her sudden onset of energy, as she shouted, "THREE!"

She jumped out of the truck, slamming the door behind her. She slid in the mud a bit, but made a ridiculous running-hobble toward the house. The sky poured down on them, and before she even made it across the driveway, she was drenched. Daryl came around to her and grasped her under the elbow to keep her from slipping and falling. She headed off to the side of the porch and waded into her flooded flower beds, digging around in the mud.

"What the fuck are you doin'?" Daryl said above the noise of the rain as he stood there being pelted with it.

"Looking for my hide-a-key rock!" Beth answered back.

"Why the hell is it down here 'n your garden with th' rest of th' damn rocks?" Daryl shouted back.

She flashed him a ridiculous grin as she looked over and saw how all of his dark hair was slicked down over the contours of his grumpy face. "I thought it'd be harder for someone to find," she admitted, laughing.

"Good call," he answered back sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Hurry up!"

She finally found the pile of rocks she sought and grabbed all four of them, hobbling over to the front steps. Daryl steadied her again as they climbed up into the shelter of her covered porch.

He eyed her armful of rocks and said, "You've gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me."

"It's one of these," she told him, dropping them all on her Welcome mat and rolling them over until she found the one with the hidden plastic cap that contained her key. After she popped it out, she unlocked her door and they both went inside.

Daryl shook the water out of his hair like a dog as soon as she got the door closed, and then he glared at her. "No damn sense at all," he told her; a comment reminiscent of when she'd hopped in front of his grocery cart about a week after he'd led her out of the woods for the first time.

"Well, I figured having a lone rock sitting on my porch might be kind of obvious," she said, smirking at him.

He grunted at her as a response, but she could see the slight upturn of his lips as he turned around to take his muddy boots off.

The burst of energy she'd expended from the truck to her cabin left her more fatigued than she had been beforehand, so she turned and limped across the floor, not bothering to worry about the muddy footprints she was leaving in her wake.

She heard Daryl pad over to her softly in his bare feet, barely even limping anymore; they'd apparently given him something to take the edge off of his injuries, too. He picked her up without a word, and carried her back through her bedroom and into her bathroom, where he set her back down and helped her take a seat on the edge of her tub.

He took her muddied blue boot off, tossing it into the bathtub, and then peeled her sock off of her foot. Luckily, the elastic medical wrap underneath was still clean and dry. He wet a towel she had lying next to her sink and then wrung it out before handing it over to her. She thanked him, wiping down her face and arms.

"You need dry clothes," he said.

"They're all in my dresser," she told him, standing from the edge of the tub. By the time she'd made it to the door jam, Daryl was already standing at her dresser.

"Top drawer," she told him, when he hesitated, awaiting instructions.

He opened it, froze, and then slammed it back shut again, turning to glare at her. She could see his ears turning red.

Beth had to work at holding back her laugh, and she nonchalantly said, "What? I need new panties, too. Unless you think I should just go to bed buck na…" She was interrupted by the pair of underwear that Daryl quickly plucked out of her drawer and tossed at her face; he seemed very intent on stopping her from finishing her sentence.

Despite her exhaustion, she couldn't help the huge smile adorning her face. Sometimes, he was just too easy to screw with.

"The second drawer has pants, and the third drawer has all of my casual shirts. There's a red one in there that was my older brother, Shaun's. I took it to sleep in, but it's huge; it'll probably fit you."

Daryl narrowed her eyes at her like he didn't quite trust her not to pull another trick on him, but then he finally complied, riffling through the rest of the dresser and plucking out things for them to sleep in.

After he'd tossed her whatever pajamas he'd grabbed, she went back into the bathroom and closed the door to give them both the privacy to change. After clumsily pulling her dry clothes on, she ran the wash cloth across her hair and ponytail, just trying to get off as much dirt as possible before going to sleep on her nice pillow.

When she came back out of the bathroom, Daryl had on the red shirt, which did indeed fit him, albeit slightly more snug than he generally wore his clothing. But he was standing in the middle of her room with his arms crossed, still wearing his soggy pants. That would pose a problem; not because she cared if Daryl was in his underwear, but because he was strangely prude for a huntsman. She got the feeling he didn't let his guard down around very many people, even when it was for something as trivial as taking some wet clothes off.

"If you take your pants off, I can throw them in the dryer for you," she said, sitting on her bed. The effort of standing and walking was too much; she was fading quickly.

Daryl shifted uncomfortably, biting the inside of his cheek. "I don' really wanna be walkin' aroun' your place half naked," he said.

"I've already seen you in your boxers, remember?" she told him.

His eyes widened in alarm and he asked, "What? When?"

"The night you fell into the river. You were so out of it by the time we got back that you didn't even wait for me to leave the room before you started to undress."

All he said was, "Oh…"

"I won't peek, if that's what you're worried about. Scout's honor," she said, grinning at him a little.

He swayed on his feet a bit as he contemplated his dilemma; his pants were soaked and cold, and he couldn't sleep anywhere wearing them anyway. He told her he'd stay the night, and it was still storming out, so he couldn't drive home. Finally, with his own fatigue settling in on his face, he began undoing his belt, and untangling himself from his sodden trousers.

Beth pulled the covers back and crawled into bed, tossing the second pillow down beside her. "Come on. Try to get some sleep."

She expected him to argue, or at least act appalled at what she was suggesting. It was a testament to how out of it he was as well, though, when he barely hesitated before grabbing a folded blanket off of her chair by the window, and then laid down next to her in bed, on top of her comforter. He pulled the blanket onto himself and they both lay side by side, staring up at the ceiling. Beth reached up and turned out her bedside lamp, enveloping both of them in darkness.

Apparently, while most people felt more weak and afraid in the darkness, it only seemed to give Daryl strength and make him bolder.

"I spent one o' my birthdays here," he told her, continuing the conversation she'd started in the waiting room.

"Here?" she asked, confused.

"Yeah, 'n this cabin," he confirmed, shifting to get more comfortable. "When my da' would really get his temper goin', I used t' sneak outta the trailer when I could, an' I'd come here. It was so buried 'n the woods, no one really knew about it, not even Merle or my da'. So I'd hide out here; lay low. One year, I think I was turnin' ten or eleven, an' it was righ' in the middle o' summer, so I was home all day with my da' most o' the time. Merle'd always had places t' be durin' the summers anyway, but I think that summer, he'd been locked away in juvie… Anyhow, da'd gotten himself plastered, an' he got into a rage 'bout somethin' or other; he started cussin', throwin' liquor bottles at me… Most o' the time, Merle was a shit brother, but he at least usually remembered my birthdays. Maybe not the exact day or anythin', but he'd at least remember it sometime within the week an' get me somethin'. He'd bring me home a handful o' candy bars or whatever. But this year, he wasn't aroun' an' my da' had plum forgot. So when his temper flared, I snuck out the bathroom window. I walked all the way t' town an' jacked a slice o' cheesecake outta the grocery store. I didn't even like cheesecake, it was just the only thing not in full view of the baker who worked there; he knew me an' my brother in a bad way, so he'd have been eyin' me if he'd seen me in there. I stuffed the cheesecake in my jacket, an' then walked all the way back t' the cabin. I spent my birthday on the roof, watchin' the fireflies in the trees."

Beth listened quietly to the story until he was finished, and then they laid in silence for a minute; him caught up in memories, and her envisioning Daryl as a kid, laying on her roof, celebrating his summer birthday with stolen cheesecake and fireflies.

"How often did you come here, back then?" she asked, feeling like the answer was important for some reason.

"A lot," he answered simply. "It was the only place I ever felt safe."

"Do you still feel safe here?" she asked, turning her face to him, although she couldn't make out his features in the blackness blanketing them.

"Yeah," he whispered hoarsely. "I do."

Smiling at his honesty, Beth turned her head back to the ceiling.

"Happy birthday," he said quietly.

"Thank you..."

Much like she'd done that first night she slept in his apartment, she felt Daryl's hand search hers out in the dark, and when they touched, he twined his fingers with hers. The warm, rough texture of his hand was both exhilarating and comforting at the same time. She squeezed his hand in a thankful gesture, and together, they drifted off into their drug-induced abyss.

A/N: I realized after I posted that the sun was set to come up soon after Daryl showed up.. and then I ended it in darkness. I didn't forget about the sunlight, I'm just super tired and totally didn't do a good job of implying that the darkness is from the overcast storm. So, sorry about that... but yeah. That's why it's dark. It's winter and stormy, and just... dark. I'm done with words for today... =P