Thank you so much for your support with this story. I am having a lot of things going on in my personal life right now and sometimes, I just want to write fluff.

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Chapter Three. Cast.

Beth felt her heart pounding at the base of her throat and everything in her stomach threatened to slide upwards and fall from her mouth. She did her best to swallow her nausea down as she ran into the emergency room, running straight towards the front desk.

"Daryl Dixon," she said, out of breath but she could still hear the shaking in her voice. Her entire body is shaking and she has no idea how she was able to drive here without something happening to her as well. "I'm his wife," she then quickly added as the nurse looked at her and then turned towards her computer.

"He's in room 202," the nurse said and no sooner had the words left her mouth that Beth was hurrying away again without even pausing to thank her.

She avoided the elevator, having no patience for waiting for it and he was only on the second floor anyway. She took the stairs as quickly as she could, her heart drumming so quickly, it was painful with each beat and she hoped it would slow down when her eyes laid upon him again and she saw that he was alright. She prayed feverishly that he was alright. He had to be alright because being without Daryl wasn't even a possibility for her.

She was home when the call came, making brownies for the elementary school bake sale and it was the usual Sunday in their house, all the kids inside because of the rain. Abby was with her, always wanting to help anytime Beth was in the kitchen. Luke and his best friend, Molly, were in the dining room, quizzing one another for a solar system test they had the next day in science class and she could hear Hunter in the study, playing destruction with his toys as usual. When the phone rang, she had been laughing because Abby had gotten chocolate all in her hair and when she answered and the person on the other end of the phone began to speak, all sound and color rushed away from her in one great whoosh.

When she rushed into room 202, Daryl was sitting up in one of the beds, his left arm in a cast and sling and various cuts and bruises on his face. He was grumbling something as he tried to work the remote for the television bolted to the wall but he saw her from the corner of his eye and he turned his head towards the door. He opened his mouth to say something but Beth threw herself against him, throwing her arms around his neck and she smelled his scent of fresh dirt and cigarette smoke and trees and Daryl and she could cry.

"I'm going to kill you Daryl Dixon," she informed him, pulling back the instant she felt him wince a little from her tight embrace.

He chuckled then. "Someone needs to work on their bedside manner."

"Where's the doctor?" She demanded.

Daryl shrugged. "He comes in and out. Said I'll prob'ly have to stay overnight. Banged my head on the steerin' wheel pretty good and the scan they did shows I have a small concussion. He mentioned stayin' for observation or somethin' like that. Do you know if Martinez towed the truck to the shop?"

"I've had other things on my mind besides the truck," she couldn't help but frown at him. Now that she knew he was up and talking and sounding like him, she permitted herself to frown, the rush of adrenaline slowly seeping from her and she now felt exhausted.

She looked at him and sighed softly. She leaned in and resting her head on the back of his head, she pressed her lips to his forehead to the bruise there. She then pulled up a chair to his bedside and sat down, her hand finding his. He was hooked up to a machine that kept track of his heartbeat, the beeping steady and strong, and she looked at it as if she knew the first thing about reading it. There had been a time, when she was younger, when she had considered becoming a nurse though that interest had only lasted for a couple of weeks before she had gone back to wanting to work with kids and teach music. For the first time in years, she wished she had become a nurse so she didn't feel so clueless right now.

"Where are the kids?" Daryl asked, looking at her closely.

She looked even more pale than usual.

Beth swallowed before answering. "I rushed out of there so fast. I told Luke to call my parents and have them come over. I should call to make sure they're there…" But the thought of leaving him again so soon after just finding him made her stomach lurch.

"Go on," Daryl gave her hand a squeeze, reading her mind. "I ain't goin' anywhere."

Beth nodded and slowly stood up. She leaned down and kissed him softly on the lips.

"It's just a broken arm," he told her quietly.

"And a concussion," she reminded him.

He shrugged his still good shoulder. "Don't worry 'bout that. Dixons have thick heads."

And she smiled a little because she supposed no one knew that better than a woman who had actually married a Dixon. And seeing her smile, Daryl's own lips twitched a little, too.

Beth finally, reluctantly, left the room and there was a payphone on the wall near the stairs at the end of the hallway. She dug around in her purse and found a quarter, slipping it in and dialing the number for home. It rang only two times before her father picked up.

"Bethy?" He asked, assuming, hoping that that's who was calling.

"He's alright," Beth said and she heard Hershel sigh with relief. "A broken arm and a slight concussion. I haven't talked to the doctor yet but Daryl said they might want to keep him here overnight for observation. Are the kids alright?"

"Don't you worry about the kids. I'm here and your sister's coming over to help. Your mother's on the way to the hospital to be with you two there," Hershel said. "I'm glad I can tell the kids their daddy's alright."

"I'm not sure what I'm doing yet… I might stay here tonight with him but I know Daryl won't want me to," she said.

"You and Daryl can talk that over. Just don't worry about the kids," he said again. "They'll be happy to have Grandpa over here with them."

"Not too much sugar, dad," Beth then reminded him as she always had to whenever Hershel was in charge of babysitting the kids.

It was really more for Hershel than for the kids. Three kids – especially their three kids – were a handful to handle without the added craziness of them being hyped up on sugar. And though she never wanted to think about it, her daddy was getting up there in age and she didn't want him to hurt himself, chasing after three kids and trying to wrangle them like monkeys at the zoo.

When she returned to the room, a tall man with a white lab coat stood at the foot of the bed.

"Told 'im not to say anythin' 'til you got back here," Daryl said.

"Hello, Mrs. Dixon. I'm Dr. Edwards," the man smiled warmly at her.

"Hi," Beth stepped forward to shake his hand. "Daryl said you might want to keep him overnight? I can't tell if that's good or not."

"It's perfectly normal protocol for someone suffering from a concussion. He's been awake and talking so we know he's not in any danger but we just want to keep him to keep a close eye on him," Dr. Edwards said. "He'll be good to go by tomorrow morning. The only other injury is obviously his arm. Luckily though, it was a clean break and should heal without complications. Six weeks with the cast on."

Daryl grumbled something under his breath about being useless for the next six weeks but Beth frowned at him.

"You need a break, Daryl. You do too much," she said but Daryl just frowning and grumbling. Daryl had never had idle hands and Beth didn't know if he knew how to relax and do nothing for six weeks. He was probably going to drive her crazy.

After Dr. Edwards left, Beth sat down in the chair beside the bed again.

"What about work?" Daryl asked with a frown.

"We'll go and talk with Dale tomorrow when you get out of here. He's not going to fire you, Daryl," she said with a gentle voice.

"Ain't worried about him firin' me. Worried about us not having my paycheck for six weeks," he said. "And these hospital bills-"

"Stop," Beth cut him off. "We still have my paycheck and you're under my insurance. Don't worry about things like that. Just worry about getting better. And taking it easy."

There was a knock on the door and a girl in pink scrubs entered, smiling and carrying a tray. "I have your dinner, Mr. Dixon," she said as she set it down on the table tray and rolled it over so it was in front of him before leaving again.

Beth stood up and lifted the lid from the plate so they could see the food. "Yummy. Lasagna and salad and you have a cookie for dessert."

Daryl kept frowning. "This looks like somethin' scraped off the side of the road."

"Shut up and eat," Beth said sternly and handed him his fork. "And you will eat it all. I want this plate clean, Daryl Dixon."

There was another knock and they both looked to see Annette and she entered when they saw her. She was breathless and holding a small vase of yellow tulips in her arms.

"Hi, sweetie." Annette set the vase of flowers down on the table beside the bed and then leaned in, kissing his head. "How are you?"

"Your daughter's tryin' to shove food down my throat," Daryl grumbled.

"Yes, I am," Beth gave him an overly-sweet smile. She took the fork and breaking off a bit of the lasagna, she brought it to his mouth. "Eat," she then ordered him sternly.

Daryl sighed and opened his mouth and Beth gently guided the fork inside, pulling it back and watching him chew with a grimace on his face. He swallowed and then grimaced even more. He pushed the tray table away from him.

"Tastes like somethin' scraped off the side of the road, too," he frowned.

Annette was doing her best not to laugh. "I'll go and get you something and bring it back. What would you like?" She asked. "Taco Bell, right?"

After Daryl gave her his order and Annette left again, Beth sat down in the chair again.

"You're going to be the worst patient in the world, aren't you?" She asked.

He shrugged his good shoulder. "Prob'ly," he said, seeing no reason to deny it. He looked at her as he settled back against the pillows behind him. "Didn' we vow in sickness and health or somethin' like that when we got married?"

Beth looked at him. "Do you remember anything about our wedding ceremony?" She asked.

"Not really," he said and then smirked a little when she reached out and pinched his thigh.

…

Beth loved Daryl. Absolutely adored and loved him.

And she wanted to kill him and she knew that if she did actually go through with it, she couldn't imagine any jury convicting her if they knew what she had been going through. She knew Daryl was going to be a terrible patient but she hadn't quite been prepared. She couldn't believe it but in their entire marriage, Daryl had never been sick. He seemed to have an immune system made out of steel because even when the kids got colds and passed it onto her, Daryl never contracted it for himself.

So, she had never really had the opportunity to baby him like she did the kids when they were sick and she knew that there was so much that Daryl was still getting used to because he had never had it growing up. He had never had anyone nurture him when he was sick and Beth wanted to make sure that she completely smothered him.

Now, truthfully, she just wanted to smother him with a pillow.

He was on several medicines both for his head and his arm and she made sure he took them in the morning, afternoon and night as he was prescribed to but first the water was too cold and then too warm and he wanted to wash it all down with a beer or something like that. And then when she made him lie in bed, first he was too hot and could she open a window? But then he was too cold and could she close the window and get him some more blankets? The soup she made had too many carrots so when she made it again, she hardly put any in and then he complained about there not being enough carrots.

She missed their little house because going up and down the stairs constantly was wearing her out. But if he was out of bed, he was downstairs, tinkering away on things until she yelled at him to stop and to go sit down. The house wasn't going to fall apart in six weeks if he wasn't constantly seeing to it. Their house was solid. He had made sure of it himself and there was no way there were that many repairs that had to be done right that instant.

He wore the sling for the first week and then tossed it aside and refused to put it back on no matter how much Beth told him to. It was easier for him to move around without it and he didn't feel like a complete invalid. He grumbled constantly about the cast though and how if he was never able to shoot a crossbow right again, he was going to go straight down to the hospital and shoot Dr. Edwards right in the heart with one of his bolts.

Beth told herself that he was just kidding.

Martinez dropped his truck off after the second week, the guys in the garage having all repaired it and as soon as he was gone, Daryl was outside, under the hood, checking out everything for himself. Since he only had one good arm, he had Hunter help him, the boy always eager to learn something else about cars and Daryl made a list of everything he would have to do over since the other guys hadn't seemed to do it up to his standards.

"You need to take it easy," Beth reminded him. "Most people love the chance to be lazy."

"I ain't most people," Daryl said with a frown.

"I know and I'm not asking you to be," she suppressed a sigh. "I'm just saying that you were in an accident and there's nothing wrong with taking a little bit of time off. You're always working as hard as you can and your body needs a break… what?" She asked when she saw that he was no longer looking at her but something past her and he was frowning deeply.

"How long has this sink been drippin'?" He asked, moving past her to the kitchen faucet.

This time, she does sigh. Quite heavily. "I don't know. Daryl-"

"Luke!" Daryl called out. "Get me a wrench!"

When they were at the farm for Sunday dinner, Annette laughed a little when Beth told her everything as they stood in the kitchen, cleaning up from dinner and getting dessert ready.

"You're lucky, baby," Annette told her. "You have a man who always has to be working. A lot of women marry men who have no problem sitting on their butts for weeks at a time."

Beth sighed. "I know I'm lucky but… that doesn't mean I don't want to strangle him all the same," she said and Annette smiled at her. "I thought it would be fun, spoiling him. He never got that when he was a kid and I wanted to make sure he got it now. But he's so darn difficult and stubborn and I keep telling him that things won't fall apart without him."

"Your brother and father are two of the worst patients, too," Annette said. "It's something in the male DNA, I swear. They want to still be men but be babied at the same time."

"Well, what do you do?" Beth looked to her mother expectedly and hopeful.

Annette only shrugged though. "Unfortunately, you just have to get through it. And then be sure to make his life a living hell for a little bit when he's better again."

And Beth smiled despite herself.

…

The kids had taken it upon themselves to decorate his cast. Abby squiggled lines in different colors all over it, giggling as she did. Hunter had drawn random spirals and lightning bolts and Luke had taken great care in drawing a deer – a buck with antlers. Even Merle signed his cast though Daryl warned him not to write any dirty words and Merle laughed because that was exactly what he had been planning.

"How this happen anyway?" Merle asked as they sat on the couch.

Daryl shrugged. "Deer in the road. Swerved to avoid it. Figured the deer would do more damage to my truck."

Merle chuckled at that. "When do ya get the cast off?"

"Doctor's appointment scheduled for Wednesday," Daryl answered.

"And how's Beth treatin' ya? Wear any hot lil' outfits to make ya feel better?" He grinned and when Daryl just stared at him, Merle's grin grew even wider.

On Wednesday, Dr. Edwards showed them to a small room and Daryl sat on the examination room, the paper sheet crinkling beneath his body, and Beth stood beside him. Dr. Edwards slowly and carefully cut the cast away and both Daryl and Beth sighed with relief when it was off. His arm was wrinkled and it smelled and the cast smelled even worse as the doctor tossed it away.

"Move it for me," Dr. Edwards said and Daryl instantly twisted it one way and then another and it was stiff and a little sore but he felt the cool air of freedom against his skin and he had never felt better.

Dr. Edwards instructed Daryl to go wash his arm in the sink and he left to go get some final papers he needed him to sign. Daryl sighed again when the cool water hit his skin and he pumped some soap in his other hand, rubbing it up and down the length of his forearm. Beth got some paper towels from the dispenser and helped him dry it off once he was finished and she lifted her eyes, finding that he was already looking at her.

She gave him a smile. "All better?"

He nodded. "Yeah," he said though it obviously didn't express just how good it felt. He lifted his right hand and slipped it to the back of her neck, pulling her in closer. "Thanks for takin' care of me," he said in a quiet voice.

And Beth kept smiling. "Anytime."

…

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