No matter how hard and fast he ran, he couldn't catch her. His lungs were burning, his heart pounding, his feet screaming out in pain. He came to a crossroads and spun in circles, frantic and desperate, searching for any sign of where she'd been taken only to find nothing, nothing, nothing. He slumped to the ground, bow clattering to the pavement, his weary aching bones throbbing as they gave in on each other and dropped him to his knees. She was gone, gone, gone, gone...

He had lost her.

Daryl had never deigned to believe that Beth belonged to him. She was too good, not just for him but maybe even for this shitty, fucked up world. But he had come to not only enjoy her company, but crave it. Without realizing it he had begun to thrive on the hope she was so imbued with that it overflowed and spilled out from within her. He'd come to see that she was everything good left in this world, and that he would do anything he could to keep her in it. Alive and smiling and hopeful. No, he hadn't dared to think that she was his in any way, but he had come to understand that he would willingly be hers. That he would do anything to keep her safe, to keep that light shining in this brutal dark world they lived in now.

Except he'd failed. He'd lost her, and now she was at the mercy of a man who wanted far more than just to bask in her light. She was lost to the hands of a man who wanted to defile that light, to maybe even snuff it right out. Daryl's head lifted slowly and peered up ahead through the fog that surrounded him. The car appeared through the haze and the man was there, stalking around it like a wolf circled it's prey. From the open car door Daryl saw Beth's feet move, saw her begin to struggle within and cry out for help. But he couldn't move, couldn't do anything but watch from the spot on the ground where he'd given up, the spot where he'd failed her. He watched Gorman reach in and run his hand up over her thigh with a growl that was half-wolf, half-walker. A beast in human form, stalking the streets of a world that had become his hunting ground.

His gaze was riveted to the scene before him as he was rendered physically incapable of looking away. He watch as the man's head turned towards him. He was missing an eye, and blood dripped down his rugged face, his lips curving into a smile as he groaned out in a monster's rough voice, "Sweet piece, such a sweet piece, gonna enjoy making her mine, mine, mine..."

His failure had him trapped, wrapping around him like skeleton arms to hold him in place as he struggled and fought to free himself, forced to watch as Gorman reached into the car and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly no matter how hard she struggled. For one moment their eyes met and he saw the fear and panic in Beth's big blue eyes as blood from the mouth of the monster man dripped from his lips to smear across her pale cheek and all Daryl could do was open his mouth and scream...

"Beth!" He sat up with a gasp, hands reaching and grasping into the darkness; he had to save her, he had to get her, he had to rescue her! "Beth!"

And suddenly, there she was. The darkness in front of him was replaced by her sweet face and her wide eyes. For a few seconds it seemed like she was glowing and radiating light, and then he realized it was the light from the moon above, shining onto her through the crowns of the trees above. "Shhh," she whispered, reaching out without hesitation to gently curl her fingers around his forearm. "Daryl I'm here, I'm right here..."

Here, here, here. Still half in a dream he reached for her, fingers curling lightly around her arm, hand brushing up and down as he tried to reassure himself that she was right there in front of him, that she wasn't in the grasp of some monster of a man. "Here?" His exhausted voice cracked on the word.

"Here," she said again, softly. He was dimly aware of her shifting closer to him, allowing his other hand to come up and find her side. Had her been fully conscious he never would have dared, knowing he had no right, but he was still half in his dream and he needed to be sure she was real. "I'm right here. It was just a nightmare, Daryl." Her hand rested over his where he had cupped her hip and she pressed her fingers against his. "See? Real."

Daryl drew in a deep shuddering breath as he stared up at her from under the dark, lanky fringe of his hair. Blue eyes staring back at him; warm, wholesome, worried. Real. The warmth of her hand where it rested over his. Real. The soft glow of the moon over her pale blonde hair. Real, real, real.

As reality began to conquer the lingering darkness of his nightmare, Daryl slowly but surely became aware of where they were. He'd carried her in his arms through the woods until his exhausted body had begun to give out at last again. Even with his legs going weak and making him sway, he'd been determined to keep going; so intensely focused on finding her a safe place that he had pushed away all concern for himself.

It had been Beth who had insisted on them stopping in the end, almost climbing out of his arms until he'd come to a halt. He wasn't even sure he remembered setting up the camp, yet he could clearly see the cans from his bag strung around them on string. Had he done it, or had she? His memory was so spotty. He remembered setting her down on her feet, watching her favor her ankle as she moved. He dimly remembered offering him his bag and supplies, since her own were lost now.

As he sat there watching her shift closer, he remembered the way she'd guided him back to a tree, her hands fluttering around him like little birds as she gently nudged him until he was sitting down against the tree. His legs had practically given out beneath him and he'd known there was no way he could get up again, and yet he also remembered groping for his crossbow where it had fallen beside him.

"No," she'd murmured, reaching for it and settling into her own arms instead as she'dsat beside him, gingerly settling her splinted wrist into her lap. "I've got it. I'll take watch, Daryl. You need to rest."

He dimly recalled protesting, insisting something about keeping her safe, only to have her brush the words away in that no-nonsense tone of hers that somehow managed to be brisk and caring at the same time.

"Daryl Dixon, you ran a whole day to catch me," she'd murmured, even as his head had tipped back against the tree. "You deserve to at least get some sleep."

Except he hadn't really slept. He'd closed his eyes and just drifted into nightmares fueled by the ache in his body and the lingering panic of failing her or losing her, and he couldn't imagine he'd managed to sleep very long at all. Every inch of him still felt exhausted. What fitful sleep he had managed had clearly done nothing for him. Daryl groaned, not realizing his fingers were curling against Beth where he held onto her, as if some part of him was desperate to have her closer.

"Okay." Her voice was so soft that it took him a moment to realize she was talking. By the time he managed to focus, she was moving to sit beside him against the tree, pulling a faint groan from his lips when her movements made his hands fall away. "You need to sleep," she murmured as she sat down next to him. "But I'm not gonna let you have anymore nightmares, okay? So you sleep right here."

The way she gestured at her lap had him furrowing his brow in tired confusion, until she went on, "Put your head right here. Use me as a pillow, Daryl." She spoke so gently and softly and sweetly that he found himself moving without even thinking about. If he'd been less exhausted he would have grunted at her or protested, but he didn't have it in him to protest right now. Not when he was weary to his core, not when his mind was still full of the image of blood dripping down her face as she was clutched in the arms of a monster.

"There you go," Beth murmured as she helped guide him to lay on his back and rest his head in her warm, soft lap. "Just like that. I'll keep watch and you sleep, okay?" When he felt her hand gently pat his shoulder, instinct had him reaching for it to tug it over his chest and curl his larger hand around it as he reminded himself again: Here. Real. Safe.

Above him she understood, the way he was starting to think Beth always understood. "You go to sleep, Daryl. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere. Close your eyes... And just rest..."

There was no denying that soft voice. His eyes fluttered shut and though his fingers soon loosened faintly around hers, he didn't let go. He drifted at the edge of sleep, the nightmare images teasing at the edge of his mind only to dissipate at the warmth of her body and the dimly registered sound of her speaking softly over him.

"I'll keep you safe," she was whispering, only faintly audible. "Just like you kept me safe. You know, I used to think you'd be glad to be rid of me at first-" He grunted faintly beneath her and she gave a soft, shushing sound of comfort. "-but eventually, a part of me started to realize you never would. And I knew, deep down inside, that you would always come for me, no matter what happened. And you did. You came for me, Daryl." Her felt her hand curl slightly so her fingers could graze his palm where he was holding her hand to his chest, and then just as sleep began to finally claim him, he heard her whisper, "You kept me safe. Now it's my turn to do the same for you."

The sun was up when he woke, and he knew he must have slept for hours. Far longer than the four hour shifts they usually took with each other. He was barely thinking about that though, once he realized that his head was still pillowed in her warm lap and he was still clutching her hand to his chest.

For a second he found himself wishing he could just pretend to still be asleep; anything to stay here like this for just a moment longer. But she was looking down into his eyes now and he heard her gently murmur, "Good morning..."

He couldn't pretend anymore. Couldn't linger here, no matter if a tiny part of him wanted to. Daryl pushed up and away from her a little too quickly, his voice rough as he replied, "Shouldn't have let me sleep so long, girl." He regretted the short tone (and the loss of her warmth) the moment he was sitting up, but when he glance back at her with a furrowed brow, he didn't see a hint of sadness or hurt feelings on her face. In fact she was just smiling at him, which was probably what prompted him to add gruffly, "You need your rest more'n I do."

"Don't be silly. I was unconscious for most of a day, you were the one running after me. You needed sleep, and you got it, and that's that. Not like you can take it back now, right?" The way that damn smile curved up her lips had Daryl studying her face for a moment, before she shifted her hands to lift the crossbow into her lap and instantly winced in pain. "Ow..."

"You okay?" In an instant he was on his knees beside her and reaching carefully for her wrist. Without a hint of hesitation his fingers ran over it, checking the splint he'd made to be sure it was still tight. It took him a few moments to remember to look up, and the soft expression in her eyes caught him off guard for a moment before she cleared her throat and looked down at her wrist.

"I don't know. It hurts but only when I, you know, use it." There she was, smiling again despite the fact that she had a broken wrist and a sprained ankle and cut across her cheek. She always managed to do that; smile even when things should have been shit.

Then again, were things really shit? Because he knew, now, how much worse they could be. (Sweet piece, my sweet piece, blood dripping onto her face.) He'd stopped that from happening, and he ignored the voice that whispered 'this time', and focused on Beth, here, alive, like he remembered repeating over and over last night until it had felt real.

"Only when y' use it, hm?" He felt the faintest little smile begin to cross his lips as he looked up at her, before he ducked his head down and focused on her wrist. "We need t' find a place to stay. An' some bandages or a wrist brace. Somethin' to wrap this with better than-" He gestured down at the strips of shirt he'd wrapped around the branch on her arm.

"Hey…" Beth tipped her head down until he looked up at her again. "This is pretty darn amazing for something you made out of nothing in the middle of the woods. My Daddy would've been proud."

He saw her breathing hitch for a moment at the mention of her father, and without thinking he found himself gently squeezing her knee for just a moment before he cleared his throat and pulled his hand back.

"So," she said after a moment, breaking the silence, "Is that the plan for today, then? Find a safe place to stay?"

"Mm." He adjusted one of the strips of fabric on her wrist and then stood slowly back up again. "Some place that ain't a trap, this time."

He reached down for her, cupping his hands under her elbows and guiding her to her feet. Their eyes met and he was surprised to see a flash of guilt in her eyes as she steadied herself and said, "I'm sorry, Daryl. I didn't know the place was a trap. I thought… you know, I thought they were just good people. I guess I was wrong…"

"Don't." His fingers curled harder into her arms for just a moment before he caught himself and slowly dropped his hands to his sides. But his eyes stayed fixed on hers as he said lowly, "Don't you go blamin' yourself. You didn't know." He leaned over to pick up his bag and his crossbow, and as he slung them over his shoulder Daryl added, "Could've been right about them being good, anyway."

"Yeah?"

"Well." He nodded his head and scuffed his foot on the ground. "Was about 50/50, I reckon."

He glanced up at her and saw her nibble briefly at her lower lip before she asked, "You still believe that?"

For just a moment when he looked at her, he could see the candlelight across her face, lighting up those big blue eyes and shadowing her cheekbones as she stared across that table at him. So you do think there are still good people. What changed your mind?

He drew in a slow breath and nodded. "Yeah. I do."

'Cause as fucked up as those assholes were who had set that trap and almost got away with Beth, she was still here with him. She was here, and she was good, and though he couldn't bring himself to admit the words out loud… she did give him hope.

"C'mon," He made sure she was steady and then slipped his arm carefully around her back to help her walk as she limped beside him. "Let's go, Greene. And don't think you can slack, just cause your injured."

He was teasing of course, but he knew that she knew, cause there was a playful little smile on her lips as she looked over at him. "I wouldn't dare, Mr. Dixon. I'll keep my eyes peeled, I promise."

They only made it a half minute more in silence before her voice was bubbling around them again, "Why do you think they say that? Keep your eyes peeled, I mean, doesn't that sounds gross?"

A month or so ago he would have snapped at her for being so damn chatty, but now, after the nightmare he'd had and the memory of almost losing her, he was pretty sure he'd never heard much better than the sound of Beth babbling away at his side, seemingly taking his grunts and hums as a whole half of a conversation as they made their way slowly but surely through the woods.

Hearing her voice was just another reminder that she was here, with him. Alive. So no, he didn't mind at all.

**A/N: This is a short one (well for me), but I really wanted to post something for this, since I know I've been slower at it than I am with She's Breathing. Next chapter will be a little more involved/have actual things happening, but I thought the scenes in this one were nice and sweet and I was in the mood for that today.