A/N Thank you all so much for reading along and for leaving comments, reviews and sending PM's :) I appreciate it.

We're FINALLY going to Daryl's hideaway. Yay!

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Sometimes it seems the ones who get the most out of life are the ones who take the most risks. They throw caution to the wind and take some big leap of faith. When there's something you want badly enough, maybe taking a risk is what you have to do.

There was something good Daryl Dixon wanted real bad.

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They'd been off the pavement, heading up a cut-in dirt road and through a wooded area for about ten minutes. He'd slowed down the truck, not wanting to jostle her around too much and doing his best to avoid any ruts or rocks. "Sorry it ain't a little smoother but we don't have much further ta go."

"This isn't so bad. I grew up in the country, I'm used to unpaved roads." She smiled over at him, and without thinking laid her hand on his leg, "Quit worrying, okay?" He liked that little touch, he took his eyes from the road just long enough to glance her way and smile back.

As soon as it came into view she knew they'd reached their destination, it had to be his. She'd never really seen one, just pictures of them in Shawn's outdoor magazines. She always thought they were something used solely by hunting and fishing guides up in Alaska, or maybe somewhere out west, someplace like Montana or Idaho. It almost looked like a real house, a house made of canvas. "Daryl is that an outfitter's tent?"

"Yeah but for me it's a home. I know it ain't fancy or nuthin' but…yeah. This is where I come ta chill."

"I love the look of it, and I can't even believe you added a front porch. So cool. Is that a stove pipe coming out of the top?"

He smiled a little, nodded his head and told her. "I have a small wood burning stove for heat. It gets a little colder up this way but the tent warms up in a hurry. My cook stove and fridge run on propane and I use a generator for lights n stuff. I've got more than everythin' I need right here." He had that little smile on his face and she could see that talking about the place made him feel proud, but he also looked nervous.

"A stove and fridge in a tent? I can't wait to see the inside."

He'd been so worried she was going to hate the very idea of it, think it was way too rustic, or that he was crazy. Her enthusiasm was a huge relief, "Yeah, I'm anxious for ya ta have a look."

He helped her from the truck sounding just a little anxious when he said, "Alright here we go, moment of truth time." Then he felt like his gut had tied itself in a knot and he almost regretted bringing her. This was his place, his sanctuary, his hide-out. He was taking a huge risk sharing it with her.

He was letting this woman step deeper into his world.

It wasn't like he didn't see women from time to time, he just didn't develop relationships. Those times he saw women were pleasant enough but they were only about one thing; never about the kind of closeness people have when they care deeply for someone. He'd never even considered bringing a woman to his home and shop in town, he certainly never thought he'd have one here in his private place, his hideaway.

Then Beth Greene came walking into his life. Once he recognized the kind of feelings he was developing for her, and that those feelings weren't going to just go away, he'd wondered and worried about what she'd think of his non-traditional home in the woods.

"It looks so big, I didn't even know they made camp tents this size." As she stepped inside and quickly glanced around she was stunned. With its wooden floor and rigid walls it didn't give the impression of a tent at all. It had the feel of a permanent structure.

She'd never seen anything even remotely like this hideaway of his and she was busily taking everything in. It was basically a large square space but he'd laid it out as four "rooms." Just like his shop there were no actual room divisions, no drapes or walls. But he'd said he was always there alone so she supposed he didn't need anything like that.

There was a living area with a comfortable looking sofa that had a soft furry blanket draped over the back of it, and there was a "man-sized" overstuffed chair. A wood coffee table, piled high with books and magazines sat in front of the sofa. A matching side table was next to the chair. She was sure he probably built those tables himself.

The small kitchen space was simple with a nice wood counter top that had a couple of cabinets for its base. There was a much taller freestanding cabinet with louvred doors she guessed held dishes and food, and a small counter with a sink. The compact stove, fridge and a dining set completed what was a a modest and yet so nicely crafted space.

Everything about it felt homey and welcoming. The more she looked around the harder it became to even think of it as a tent. And she was certain he'd done most of the work himself, it had his vibe all over it.

She didn't want to say a lot about how much she loved the very appealing bedroom area. But she sure thought about it. The big wood bed had the look of the other furnishings and she was sure Daryl had built it too. She tried not to smile as she thought how sexy it was that a man built his own bed. And a very inviting bed it was. The mattress was high and topped with a warm quilt, just perfect for snuggling under, and there were big fluffy looking bed pillows.

He'd been watching her and he saw the look on her face as she took in the bed he'd built; his mind went there. Someday soon he'd like to have her lying in that bed with him.

He had to quit thinking about that stuff or he wasn't going to be able to think at all.

What surprised her most was the bathroom area. She couldn't imagine a tent with a bathroom but there it was. There was the tiniest pedestal sink she'd ever seen and a regular toilet, but it was the tub that was so wonderful. It was an old-fashioned clawfoot model situated close to the woodstove. She almost teased him, "Mister Dixon you may like simplicity, but you like it to be nice." She'd save that comment for another day.

As she looked at the tub she couldn't help thinking how enjoyable it might be to lay in there with him, especially if there was a light rain falling on the roof and a warm fire in the stove. Although any time would do.

She tried hard to distract herself from thinking all those enticing thoughts, now wasn't the time. "You must have a septic system."

"Yeah, I have a well and a septic. I wanted it to feel like a real home, not like when I'm campin'. This is different."

"That's for sure. What made you decide on doing this instead of just building a cabin?"

He smiled at her question as he lay a hand on her arm, "I had a big fat reality check girl. I got the land first, that was the biggest expense. Back then I still had to hike about half the way up in here. I didn't mind. I'd pack in just to sleep on ground I was proud to call my own."

"After I saved enough I started makin' improvements. Cuttin' in the road had ta come first. Merle helped me with that. He owns an excavating company so he had the equipment and the know-how. Then I hired an outfit to drill a well and another guy to put in the septic."

"All that cost plenty so I took a step back. It was another year or so before I felt like I could go ahead and buy the tent I had in mind. I built the floor and reinforced the walls and finished it off the way I wanted."

"With the land and doin' everythin' as inexpensive as I could, and doin' mosta the work myself, I still spent over 50 grand. I coulda just bit off a big chunk and built a nice cabin. But bein' way the hell off the beaten path, and to do it the way I'd want would cost at least 125 grand or so more. I didn't have that kind of cash and I wasn't willing to go into a lotta debt. I ain't cheap but I'm cautious about how I spend money. Anyway, I's able ta do all this a little bit at a time. That was how I did it. Someday maybe I'll build a cabin, but if I never do this right here is good. I'm happy here."

"Wow, I never even thought about how much everything would cost. I had no idea. I have to tell you, I think you made a really good decision. This is something to be so proud of. It's wonderful and you did such an amazing job. I love how cozy and peaceful it all feels. I totally get why you call it your hideaway, it's the perfect spot. Thank you for bringing me here Daryl."

That's when his arms went around her and hers around him and for the first time he kissed her on the lips. His kiss was warm, tender and full of romance and obvious desire, yet it wasn't demanding. She couldn't remember ever having a kiss feel so intimate. She wished the moment would never end.

He smiled as he leaned his face away just a little and his hand was playing with her hair as he whispered, "That was nice Beth." Then he kissed her again and the second time was just as wonderful as the first time had been. When he leaned back again, he rested his forehead on hers and whispered, "I better stop now or I'll never get ta show ya around."

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They both knew exactly what they were doing, stalling. It was just that things were going so well and they were enjoying this day. Neither of them was in any kind of rush to get to the tough stuff, and possibly damage what was developing between them.

Instead they were taking a slow easy walk around as he showed her his land and the things that it brought. The flora and the fauna and the animal tracks and the birds' nests. He pointed out to her where deer had bedded down the night before; and the small pond that he smiled and told her held the tastiest fish in all of Georgia.

"Gosh Daryl you know so much about all this stuff. You must be a fast study."

And that's when the first story started, "Nah, not really. It's just I grew up runnin' half wild in woods like this. We hunted and fished ta live and we learned it early."

She smiled, thinking it must have been good, "So your Dad was quite the outdoorsman, huh?"

He stopped and when he did she stopped, and that's when she knew. Whatever he was going to say wasn't going to be easy. And it came, the darkness. She could both see and feel how uncomfortable he was. But he held her eye as he spoke, "You could say that I guess. My Dad knew damn near everythin' a man can know about livin' off the land. He taught me ta shoot an he taught me ta track, how ta make a shelter in a storm, and how ta care for the game I got. But those weren't fun trips that Merle and me took with the old man. They weren't some kind of family campin' trips like folks take. It was all about survival and a lotta that was me and my brother survivin' bein' with him. There ain't a nice way to say it, he was one mean son of a bitch. He nearly killed me n Merle both more'n once."

She didn't know what to say, she was stunned and her heart was hurting. She wanted to say something meaningful, something profound, but words wouldn't come.

What he did next she was certain would stay etched in her memory forever. He unbuttoned his shirt, just three buttons or so, just enough to pull it up and over his head. Then he turned his back to her.

She immediately wished she hadn't let out the gasp, but it just happened and she couldn't take it back. He kind of shrugged as he turned around and faced her, "It was bad but it was also a long time ago. The scars are never goin' away, none of 'em. Ya hafta know Beth, it's part a what makes me the man I am."

"Merle and me we feel the same, all we can do is move on. The thing of it is, what little bit a good I got from that man I still have it. These skills I got, the skills to survive out here. If I never could go back to town again I'd be okay. I know how to take care of myself. So that's the good I got. That's what I try n think about."

She wanted to hold him but she didn't want him to think she pitied him. She knew enough about him to know he wasn't the kind to want pity. "I wish I knew the right words to say Daryl, but I don't know. All I can say is I admire your attitude, taking the good and trying to move away from the rest, putting it behind you. And I agree about all the skills you learned. That part is awesome, I can't even imagine surviving on my own. I don't think I could."

"Yeah ya could, you just have ta learn it. I could teach you."

There was so much pain, it was like the air was thick with it, and yet there was this little bit of positive energy and she grabbed onto that. She decided it was a good time to take a chance, so she let him know just as plainly as she could, "I would love for you to teach me Daryl. I'd love to spend more time here with you. All the time I can."

He took her in his arms, holding her close to his chest while he rested his cheek on hers. After a moment he softly whispered in her ear, "I'd like that too." He kissed her cheek and as they moved apart he took her hand in his.

"What about your Mom Daryl? Does she live around here?" It seemed like such an innocent question but it brought out a whole new world of pain. It was almost as if the sky went dark. He continued to hold her eye though, he even seemed to stand taller, and he told her the truth as he saw it. "No, she died when I was a kid, eight. I shoulda been there with her. I coulda stopped it. It's my fault she's gone."

They'd come this far and she saw no reason not to press on. She couldn't comprehend how an eight year old child could be responsible for such a thing. She needed answers, "How Daryl? Why?"

He breathed in deeply but his voice remained steady as he answered, "I was s'posed ta be home doin' my schoolwork. But my Mom, she liked to drink wine, I think it helped deaden the pain a the life we were livin'. Anyway, I took advantage of her bein' out of it. I split and went ta play with the neighborhood kids. It was a while later I seen the smoke and I knew. I ran all the way back home but it was too late. The firemen and the ambulance were there but they were too late too. She was gone and the house was gone. I shoulda been there ta stop it."

"But how? What could you have done?"

"The fire marshal said it looked like she'd passed out after lightin' a cigarette. That's how the fire started. If I'da been there I coulda got her outta the house." She'd never seen anyone look more guilty.

Her heart ached for him and for his Mother, but she was also upset to hear his take on what had happened. It just couldn't be right. Maybe she got just a little rough with him, "Oh really? You sure do think your eight year old self was something, don't you? Do you know any eight year olds?"

He wasn't happy with her tone and his voice had taken on a sharp edge of its own when he responded, "Yeah I do as a matter a fact, Merle's older boy Mick is eight. Whaddya gettin' at?"

She didn't want to sound mean, she felt terrible for him. But she also thought his thinking, the way he saw this was all wrong. He was taking on guilt that wasn't his. "Think about it, do you think Mick could manage to get his Mom out of a burning house if she was passed out? What would he do? Pick her up and carry her? I'm sorry Daryl. Your story is so tragic and it breaks my heart. I feel so bad for you and your Mom, Merle too. But talk about big fat reality checks. There was nothing an eight year old could do. Not even an eight year old Daryl Dixon. You aren't responsible. You're not." She was worried she sounded mean, and she wanted to cry and she wanted to hold him, mostly she wanted him to be able to forgive himself. It was all just so unbearably sad.

At first he didn't respond, not with words. He just gave her the hardest look anyone had ever given her. finally he muttered the same words as before, "I shoulda been there."

"Then maybe you wouldn't be here now."

There was a long pause as they both stood not saying a word, just staring intensely in each other's eyes. He finally broke the silence, "Jesus you're stubborn."

"I'm almost as bad as you."

"C'mon." That was all he said and she figured for now that was enough. She was relieved when he took her hand. At least maybe he wasn't angry with her. She was sure he needed to think about what had been said, and what had happened so long ago. She did too. They stayed quiet as they continued walking for another 15 minutes or so. Then he turned to her, almost smiling when he said, "This would probably be a good time for us ta kill some cans."

She smiled back as she agreed, "Let's." She knew enough to realize though, they'd only touched the tip of the iceberg. There was so much more to come. But for now it was probably best if they did take a break and have a little fun.

More darkness was coming, and she sensed whatever he hadn't told her was going to be worse than she'd already heard. At least she was sure that was how he perceived it. And she still had her story to tell him.

More than anything she wanted to believe that whatever came next, there wouldn't be anything so terrible they couldn't deal with it together.

"Let's get the stuff."

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A/N Thank you again for reading along and please leave a comment / review. The chapter photo is on my tumblr blogs, gneebee and bethylmethbrick. We'll continue the date next chapter and I hope to see you back here next Wednesday for that. Until then remember, I love ya large! xo gneebee