Daryl had a dilemma that he worked through on his way over to Beth's cell the next morning, the light glow of the sun pouring through the prison windows as he passed them. Once again, he was not able to sleep much, tossing and turning throughout the night in anticipation of the arrival of the morning light.
He felt like he needed to back out of this before it got too painful to do so.
The whole time that Daryl thought about Beth, he had not figured Maggie or Hershel into the equation. There was no doubt in his mind that Hershel would be unhappy about Daryl having his dirty redneck hands all over Beth. He could already see the look on Hershel's face if he found about what had happened between them so far, or the thoughts that Daryl had been having about Hershel's youngest daughter.
And Maggie? She would probably poison his food or something to that effect. There was no way they would accept whatever was between Daryl and Beth.
Because Daryl was not the kind of guy a woman would want to bring home to her family. He never met anyone's family, never wanted to either. He was the kind of guy who would fuck in a drunken haze, leave minutes later, and then never bother to get a number to call the woman who was dumb enough to bring him back to her place. What sane father would want that kind of guy with his young, pure daughter?
He wished again that he was good with communicating. He was shit it. One of the things that he was the worst at.
How ever helpful that was in a situation like this.
He almost turned around and went back as he walked down the hallway to where Beth's cell was. He didn't feel ready to do this, but he knew that he might not ever be so he might as well keep his feet moving before he went in the other direction. Delaying was not going to be the answer to his problems.
It's just Beth, he reminded himself.
One would think that he was about to appear in front of a jury after committing a felony or something. He was a ball of nerves. And he was not used to that. No one made him nervous in the way that Beth did. Of course, he was never good with women. Too nervous and too awkward. Another case of the 'say the wrong thing at the wrong time or not say enough' that plagued his life.
His boots fell relatively silent against the floor even as his legs seemed heavier than usual as he got closer to his destination.
Ever since people recovered from the virus that had been passed around, people had gone about hanging sheets over the cells so that it offered more privacy, Beth included in one of those. The sight of the sheet that had been draped across her cell made his skin ripple with goose bumps.
Daryl glanced at some cells as he went by to see who was around and if he was going to need to keep his voice down, not that he talked particularly loud to begin with. That only happened when he was angry. Now he needed to know if he should be careful of what he said because he didn't want anyone else knowing his business. If someone found out about Daryl and Beth, it would spread through the prison like wildfire. And someone seemed to always be lurking around a corner. That's what happened when so many people were confined together on one space. Being alone was not a privilege he could say he had these days.
And part of him wanted to keep Beth a secret. Something that was only his to know about.
But that wasn't fair.
Now the problem was that there were outside obstacles that weighed down on Daryl, telling him that whatever was going on between him and Beth was to be kept quiet under all circumstances. That it shouldn't be going on at all; he shouldn't have allowed it to start. Told him he shouldn't be doing this because he wasn't the man that Hershel would want for his youngest angel and wasn't the man that Maggie would want her sister to be shacking up with.
It all hit him like a brick wall—all the fears that he did not think about yesterday.
People would judge him. The residents here were nice enough but everyone had an opinion. And if the past served as any indicator of what people would think, it wasn't a good sign.
People would talk about him if it got out that Daryl and Beth were…were something. He didn't know what to call it but it didn't matter much at this instance. He could practically hear the whispers now, just like how he heard the hushed voices whenever him and Merle would go somewhere.
Oh, look. More stupid rednecks up to no good. The fuck do they want? Trying to sell some drugs?
What did he expect? His gruff appearance and ignorant attitude never invited friendly chatter.
Only now the words would be altered to: What the fuck is she doing with him? That redneck shouldn't be with her. She's too good for him. She could find someone way better than that redneck asshole.
There he would be. Judged again.
One would think that Daryl would be used to being judged by others by now, but no, he wasn't. He hated it. Wished he could avoid it. Daryl would get his back up every single time, telling himself that he should be just as rude to the people who were being rude to him. The fuck did they know about him?
Daryl didn't get enough time to think before he was before Beth's cell. He pushed the curtain aside, not thinking for the second time that he should have alerted her of his presence before he barged in. He took a step inside, letting the sheet fall back into its original position.
Beth was in the middle of making her bed when he stepped in, pulling up the bedsheets up and adjusting her pillows. Her eyes drifted up, meeting his.
For a moment, the world is lost to him.
For a moment he thought that all of what was going on inside of his head was complete nonsense because he has never felt so complete. He came to realize that Beth did that to him every time she looked at him. It was something so simple, so basic, but it could be world-changing for him.
It only reminded him that she was too good. Better. He didn't deserve a woman like her.
Beth was like the sun, in the weird metaphor that it was. She shined bright no matter what. In comparison, Daryl had been stuck in darkness for so long, longer than he could recollect. He was stuck there, trapped in the dark.
"Hi," she smiled.
"Hey," he grimly sighed.
Beth took a second to collect herself, noticing his mood. She tossed the pillows back carelessly, forgetting about making the bed. She looked at him with those pure and innocent eyes of hers a second time around, and Daryl had to remind himself about why he was there in the first place. He didn't need to get sidetracked by her beautiful blue orbs and dark batting eyelashes.
"I wasn't expectin' you this early," she quietly announced, glancing down to her pajamas. They consisted of only a light gray camisole that was tight against her skin, outlining her bra, with black and gray striped long cotton pajama bottoms. He tried not to let his gaze stay too long on how her pajama bottoms were low on one side, showing off the creamy skin of her hip bone that was ever prominent. "I would have changed."
Daryl shrugged it off as he ignored how his pulse started to quicken after one glance at her exposed skin. "No big deal."
Beth stood up straight, about to begin whatever words were on the tip of her tongue, but Daryl refused to hear them. He knew what would happen. The smoothness of her voice and being able to watch as her lips moved with her syllables would surely put him into a trance and he then would not be able to get out what he needed to.
And what he needed to do was numb himself down so he could say what was supposed to be said.
"Your dad wouldn't like this," he stated in a rush before she said anything, believing it to be the truth.
Beth parted her lips, giving him a bewildered stare. "Wouldn't like what?"
Daryl let his gaze plummet down to the ground. "Me. He wouldn't like me, a guy almost twice your age, messin' around with one of the two most precious things he has. Man knows how to use a shotgun, Beth. He'd probably use it on me if he found out."
"That's not true," Beth said in rebuttal. "My dad would never do that."
"And what about your sister?"
Beth narrowed her eyes in confusion. "What about her?"
"I don't know who would be more upset, Hershel or Maggie," he growled out. "I don't see how she would be fine with me, the asshole redneck who is sneakin' around with her younger sister behind her back. It's not like she'd give us her blessing or whatever the hell it is that people give."
Beth shook her head, amused. "Maggie would be fine with it. I know her. She is my sister, after all. I know how she thinks." Beth moved away from her bed and glided towards him. "And my dad would be happy that I have someone. Someone like Glenn is to Maggie."
"I'm not like Glenn," he retorted.
"I know you're not. And I'm not askin' you to be. I want you to be you and I want me to be just who I am. And together we can be whatever that's supposed to be."
Daryl all of a sudden had second thoughts. Beth had a way with words, and could easily convince him into thinking that what was happening between them would be just fine. That everyone would be okay with it.
However, he needed to stop this. Stop pretending like there was nothing wrong with what was transpiring between the two of them. He had to put it an end. And that was purely based on Beth's best interest. He wanted to protect her, protect her from him. Daryl had to put his own selfish needs, wants, and desires aside. Beth deserved better than him. Deserved more than he could offer her.
"It ain't right. You deserve better."
"Daryl, don't be like this. Nothing about this is wrong in any way and I know that you have to feel that way," she said as if she had read his thoughts moments ago. "You have to feel somethin' for me because you kissed me back. Don't give up," she pleaded, trying to make him reasonable.
"You deserve better," he repeated.
He didn't look at her. Couldn't.
Daryl booked out of there after that, practically running someone down who was near Beth's cell when he exited. He didn't look to see who it was. The only thing he was interested in was getting out, getting away from the mess he made of things.
Because Daryl Dixon always screwed things up.
Daryl was unaware that this was what he did to not get hurt. He pushed people away. Pushed and pushed and pushed until they didn't want to be around him. That way, when there was no one close to him, they couldn't hurt him. And he couldn't hurt them. The only person who could do the damage was himself. It was his own form of personal torture. He brought it down onto himself.
Little did he know that by pushing people like Beth away it only hurt him more.
It didn't help him.
It didn't keep him safe.
And it didn't protect him. Not from anything.
—
After he spent an hour or two meandering around the perimeter of the prison, Daryl was feeling worse than he ever had. He expected to feel shitty from the aftermath of what had been said in Beth's cell, but not as horrendous as he did now. But he had to do the right thing by her. He kept repeating to himself that she was deserving of more than he could give her and that was why he did what he did.
That's his own insecurity. His own doubt. His inability to see that he might be good for her.
Right then he couldn't see past any of that. He was Daryl and she was Beth.
He was damaged.
Broken.
Unfixable.
At least in his mind he was.
Deep down through all the layers, he knew that it wasn't that he was afraid that she was going to hurt him, it was that he knew that he could hurt her. And he couldn't deal with that knowledge.
Even though he believed that he did the right thing by Beth, he felt the pain in his chest. It was like he had been hit multiple times over. It was way worse than any beating he had ever received as a child. This time it was more emotional than physical pain.
Daryl begrudgingly dragged himself back into the prison with the idea that he would grab his crossbow and head out to check the animal traps that were around the outside of the prison.
Get away, run away, don't feel. The story of his life.
When he got to his cell, he was surprised to see Michonne leaned up against the wall with her arms crossed and one foot on the back wall. She slowly turned her head to him. For a second he panicked and thought that he was in the wrong cell and this one here was not his, only he then noticed his crossbow that rested against his bed.
Daryl gave Michonne a quizzical look.
"What are you doing?" she asked him, not moving from her position.
"Um," he slurred, confused by why she was the one asking him this. "Last time I checked this was where I slept."
"That's not what I mean."
"Can you be a little more specific then?"
Michonne exhaled a breath of air, irritated by his clear lack of understanding. "Don't screw this up for yourself," she advised, very serious, and very stern.
Then he knew exactly what she was talking about. Michonne must have been the person who had been near Beth's cell when he had rushed out of there earlier. It made Daryl shift uncomfortably in the spot that he stood at. Michonne always knew everything. He started to wonder if she somehow had hidden working cameras around the prison that showed her all that was going on. She had intel that no one else did.
Daryl shifted his gaze around, trying not to directly look at Michonne. "How do you know?" he demanded.
"Because I have eyes," she retorted, raising an eyebrow. "And so do you. Only yours watch Beth like a hawk. I know why you do it. It's written all over your face."
And here Daryl had thought he hadn't been obvious about it.
"Nothin' I can do 'bout it now," he grumbled.
"Bullshit," she said back. "You know better than that."
Daryl is taken aback by how upfront Michonne is with him, calling him out like it was nothing. He crossed the room and sat down on the edge of his bed because it became clear to him that Michonne was not going anywhere anytime soon. She had something to say and was not going to let it go until he had heard it.
Maybe he needed to hear it.
Daryl hunched forwards and rested his elbows onto his knees, finding that scrutinizing his rough hands to be so much easier than meeting Michonne's serious glare.
"I'm not good for her," he admitted, though he didn't know why he revealed that to her.
Michonne rolled her eyes and headed for the entry of his cell to walk out. "Oh, please. Cut the crap, Daryl. I've been watching you do this whole inner conflict thing for months now. It's not worth it."
Maybe she had a point, but Daryl was not convinced. Beth did deserve better than him, even in a world like this where options were slim. That didn't change much. She deserved someone who didn't come with so much baggage that it made his own head spin sometimes. She deserved someone who was damaged like he was.
"That girl is good for you," Michonne continued in a confident tone. "And you are good for her, even if you don't see that yet. You need to get the chance to see it. Screw what everyone else might think. Who cares? No one goes around and passes up a once in a lifetime opportunity like you have, Daryl."
Beth. His once in a lifetime opportunity.
"What do I do?"
Never would he have ever guessed that he would have ended up asking Michonne for advice. Of all the people.
"Fix it."
Daryl dropped his head towards the floor. "I don't know how," he confessed.
Michonne gave a simple answer. "Go to her."
Daryl brought his head back up to look at Michonne. "Now," she further instructed.
He didn't hesitate. He got back on his feet and raced back to find Beth.
A/N: This was a hard chapter to write. Necessary, but extremely difficult. But have no fear! Daryl is going to go get his girl :)