**A/N: I apologize in advance if this is awful... the time change has me a little messed up (darn daylight savings time), and I have a bad toothache that's really making it hard to concentrate. Fingers crossed this isn't a mess!

Hay. The scent of it lingered in Beth's nose as she walked a short distance behind Daryl on their way back towards the mill, and she was pretty sure the lingering aroma wasn't just because of the small piece of it she had slipped into her pocket and was toying with now as she walked.

She'd always had memories associated with the scent of hay; growing up on the farm it was impossible not to. Hay made her think of horses, of playing hide-and-seek with Shawn, of curling up in the loft with her CD player and a notebook to scribble in, or the sound of her Mama's voice calling her down for dinner.

Now the scent of it conjured a new, fresh memory. One that made her cheeks go the tiniest bit pink each time she replayed it in her mind, one that made her feel all warm and flustered like she was on the brink of something new, something both exciting and terrifying all at the same time. The scent of hay in her nose made her think of the press of Daryl's lips to hers; firm and warm and the tiniest bit dry. The rush of warmth through every inch of her like it was being carried from her lips to her veins and through all of her limbs.

The mess of thoughts hadn't come until after, because in that moment all she had been able to think was: I'm kissing Daryl Dixon, and lord is it good. No, it was only after that the other thoughts crept in. Only when she pulled back from him all flushed to see a similar pink to the tips of his ears, only when she'd opened her mouth to say something only to be cut off by him running his fingers roughly through his hair as he turned towards the door and gruffly muttered at her, "Should go."

That was it; two words. It was all he'd said to her since the kiss, but Beth wasn't too upset about that. Of course that was partially because she was still in a bit of a haze over having kissed him but also, well… it was Daryl. She had barely cracked the surface of him and yet she knew something of his complexities. After weeks of only the two of them side-by-side, sometimes with barely a word spoken by him, was this really much of a surprise?

No. Although her gaze did still stray again and again to his back as they walked back towards the old mill. She peered at him as if wishing she could crack open that handsome head and see inside to all the thoughts he kept hidden beneath. She wondered what he was thinking now, wondered what he had been thinking then, standing in that barn and leaning down to press his lips to hers.

She wondered… had there been a revelation, behind those guarded eyes?

There had been for her, but it had come before the familiar scent of hay and the warmth of the sun-drenched barn. It had come instead in the flicker of flames and the scent of her clothes burning up in front of her right along with some of the painful memories of her past. She had felt the fear evaporating as if the flames of the fire had turned it all to smoke that she could just purse her lips and blow away, and it was all because of Daryl. She had looked up and seen him, but she had also seen him. She'd seen the look in his eyes that day in the cell when he'd come to tell him about Zach, when she'd felt his body tense beneath her hug and his hand rise slowly and oh-so-cautiously to cup her elbow. She'd seen his smoldering eyes looking at her from across a fire night after night until she'd made that first move, crossing to the other side of the fire to sit with him instead. She'd seen the pain in his eyes that day in the shack, both of them lit on moonshine and him like a scared child, screaming out in the voice of the father he was so terrified of becoming.

She had looked at him in that moment, lit by the fire that was burning up her bad memories and she had seen him lit up by his own fire, his hand thrust up defiantly against the night sky as they burned down not only their shelter for the night but more importantly, his past. His regrets, his fears, his memories… his dread that all of it would be in him forever, until she showed him how to leave it behind. Just like he had showed her now, his rough but gentle hands pressing those clothes into her hands like she'd handed him the first jar of moonshine to toss across the darkened living room full of unwanted memories.

As the flames crackled and snapped and devoured, Beth had looked at him and seen him looking right back as he had done so many times before. Watching her settle his bow into her arms, watching her crouch down to peer at the tracks of a rabbit dashed across the forest floor, watching her from across the table in a candlelight-lit kitchen with a universe of words in his eyes and nothing but an 'oh' on her lips in return.

It had been there in his eyes again. There had been a world full of emotion in his gaze and Beth had felt something rising up in her in response. Something so immense it might have been overwhelming, except that she had looked at him and seen him and against the immensity of what she felt (what she realized she had been feeling for so long now, just building up inside of her so slowly) she set the simple knowledge that this wasDaryl. What she felt might have verged on overwhelming, but it was Daryl. He might have been gruff, he might have had a past so dark it made her heart ache to even think about it… but she trusted him. With her life, actually, and she had even before he'd quite literally saved that life for her by chasing after that car until he caught her.

So it had been a little frightening to suddenly look at him and realize just what it was she was feeling, but it was hard to truly be scared because it was him. The same man who had never left her side, who had made sure her first drink was memorable, who had taught her to hunt and track and believed in her ability to do so. The same man who had run miles and miles to catch her and carried her to safety in his exhausted arms; the same arms that had wrapped around her and held her close, anchoring her against the pain of realizing that her sister didn't believe in her and maybe never truly had.

Remembering that had only added to the butterflies in her stomach as she'd stood in that barn watching him, unable to think of anything but what a good man he was and how he deserved all the happy memories he could possibly have.

Like being kissed in a sun-warmed barn by a girl who liked him. A girl who looked into his eyes and thought she saw the same tidal wave of emotions that she felt swirling like butterflies in her own stomach.

Beth hadn't wondered then what he was thinking, but she did now. She might have been able to look into him sometimes and just see to the heart of him, but she was so far from understanding everything about Daryl Dixon. He was a mystery in a myriad of ways, but she liked that about him. She liked not knowing, even if it was a little scary in moments like this where she felt like she had her toes right on the edge of a precipice and she just wanted to know if his hand was going to be in hers when she took that leap over it.

He hadn't left her alone yet. Beth had faith that he wouldn't do it now, either.

She wondered if maybe he needed the same reassurance. If he did, that at least was easy to give. Beth just picked up her pace a tiny bit to come up beside him and turned her head, finding his eyes hiding beneath his long fringe of hair and giving him a soft smile. That was all. Just a soft smile and the brush of her arm against his as they walked, but simple as it was it felt like enough.

Especially when she saw the corner of his lips tug up briefly in response, and especially when he didn't make a move to pull away. He just kept walking beside her, slowing his pace instinctively to match her own. It wasn't a hand in hers as they plunged over the edge, but she wasn't alone and standing on her own, either.

So for now it was more than enough for Beth.

Daryl thought he had never felt so out of his depth before, and yet... maybe that wasn't entirely true. Because when he thought back over the last few weeks, he remembered time after time where little Beth Greene had swept the rug out from underneath him and left his head spinning. She dazed him again and again and yet each time she also seemed to anchor him… as if he were a balloon on a string, buffeted by the breeze but secured by a string looped around her slender fingers.

He had been brought to tears at the shack in the woods only to be anchored by her arms wrapped around his back. He had felt breathless at the sight of her so easily settling his crossbow into her arms and yet anchored the moment she had turned to smile at him. He had been rendered speechless in that funeral home and the flickering candlelight and that one word, that oh, had both buffeted him and tethered him all at the same time.

Over and over again she had knocked him down and picked him right back up again and today was no different except that with the sensation of being adrift-yet-tethered there was also the lingering warmth of her lips against his own. Despite the kiss having long-since ended, it was almost like he could still feel her lips pressed to his. Like some sentimental idiot, he very nearly lifted his fingers to his lips before he caught himself.

In the back of his mind he could almost hear Merle calling him Darylina, mocking him for being so flustered by a simple damn kiss.

But that was the thing. It wasn't a simple kiss, because it was Beth. Sweet, strong Beth… so like the girl's he'd occasionally seen as a kid, those perfect pristine girls with twirling sundresses and ribbons in their hair and clean white socks on their feet. Girls like that had never wanted anything to do with him, and by all rights he would have assumed Beth would be the same, but of course she wasn't. Beth wasn't like anyone he'd ever met before. She was as tough as she was soft, as strong as she was sweet.

Sometimes she reminded him of a tree. Soft enough to sway in the breeze but with roots that went down deep, keeping her standing strong even in the midst of the toughest storms.

There he was getting all poetic again, but he couldn't seem to help it. She just brought it out of him. She brought a lot of stuff out of him, whether she was nearby or not. Right now, for example. He'd left her inside- insisting gruffly that she rest her ankle for a bit- and gone out to fill the bucket with water from the stream and do a few circles around their 'camp' to look for walkers or dinner or whatever else he could find. She was safely inside with several walls between them and yet still she filled his thoughts, still she guided his movements even without him realizing it.

After a half hour he had a pair of squirrels already skinned and cleaned and strung up over his shoulder, but he also had something that even better, at least in his mind. He'd come upon a beech tree at the perfect time; the nuts just ripe enough to eat but not so much that they'd dropped to the ground to be devoured by animals. He'd gathered up as many beechnuts as he could fit, wrapping them in his bandana and sticking them in his pockets before he headed back towards the mill.

Beth would be happy to see them. That was the thought that stuck in his mind from the moment he'd laid eyes on that tree. He could just imagine the way her face would light up and how she'd probably instantly launch into some idea for how to cook them. The anticipation had his pace picking up as he strode back towards their shelter, forgetting in his enthusiasm to worry about what they'd done earlier in the barn.

(Though he had worried before, over and over again as they'd left the barn and walked back towards the Mill. His mind had churned over questions one after the other. Had he made a mistake? Did she think she'd made a mistake? Should he say something? Was she going to? What did it all mean? What was gonna happen next? And then she'd come up beside him and lightly brushed her arm against his and suddenly, it had all seemed to silly to worry about… for now, anyway.)

Those worried thoughts were far from his mind now as he moved across the field towards the kudzu-covered building in the distance, the squirrels swinging at his back and the beech nuts lightly shaking in his pockets. His only thought was to get back to Beth, to see the way she lit up at what he'd brought back to her.

He pushed open the door of the mill, bringing the bucket of water in with him and setting it to the side as he bolted the door and barred it with the old table before making his way upstairs. Though he looked around as he climbed the stairs, he knew where he'd find her. Sure enough as he reached the top floor, his eyes landed on her right where he'd expected. She was sitting cross-legged on the mattress, now covered by the new blanket she'd found at the house they'd gone to today. In front of her Beth had lined up the mason jars in a neat row beside the stove and he wasn't sure why, but something about it struck him as oddly… homey.

Or what he imagined homey might feel like, anyway. He didn't have much experience with it himself.

"Takin' inventory?" Despite his poetic thoughts of a few moments ago, Daryl's voice was as gruff and low as usual as he came around the table towards the mattress where she lay. Despite his gruffness though, there was a softness to his expression that most people probably wouldn't have noticed.

(Beth was, as always, far from most people.)

She looked up at him with a warm smile and a chuckle as she replied, "Sort of. I just thought they looked nice like that, actually." When he hummed and unslung his bow to slowly hang it over the back of an old wooden chair, she went on, "My Mama used to do that sometimes. After she canned, she'd line them all up on the counter for my Daddy to see when he came home… but then she'd leave it for a few days. She said she liked how it looked."

Beth's gaze strayed back to the jars but Daryl's stayed on hers, studying the look on her face, equal parts fondness and longing as she ran her fingers across the tops of the jars. "I always thought they looked pretty, especially when the sun came in. All those nice colors, you know?"

He didn't know. Or he hadn't until now. But when he murmured, "Yeah," back at her, it wasn't the jars of canned vegetables he was looking at but the curve of her pink cheek and the tendril of blonde hair that had escaped from her ponytail to trail across it. Realizing he was staring a bit, (and feeling again like a sentimental fool), Daryl cleared his throat and pulled the looped string of squirrels off his belt to show them to her instead. "Got us dinner…"

It was nothing special, nothing they hadn't had probably far too many times before, and yet she still grinned up at him at the sight of the skinned animals dangling in front of her. "Daryl, that's great! We can cook those up maybe with come of this corn, that sounds good, doesn't it?"

She was already leaning over to reach for a jar of corn when Daryl cleared his throat and stuffed his hand in his pockets. "Got somethin' else, too." He waited until she looked up at him and still hesitated, but only for a moment. Shoulders hunched and head ducked, he pulled his bandana free and offered it carefully to her. It wasn't like he was nervous or something. It was just beech nuts, after all.

But there was still a look of anticipation on his face as Beth settled the bandana into her lap and opened it, one corner at a time as if she were unwrapping a present for Christmas or something. "Oh Daryl!" She gave a little intake of breath and then looked up at him and yeah, there it was. Her smile. Like the damn sun coming out from behind the clouds or something as she just beamed up at him and exclaimed brightly and happily, "You found beech nuts!"

"Yeah…" He scuffed his foot on the ground and shrugged, the downward tilt of his head hiding his hint of a smile. "Ain't nothin' much though, just found 'em in the woods."

"Well I think it's somethin' special. I love beechnuts."

"You do?" He peered up at her from under his fringe and sure enough she was still smiling like the sun at him, the rays of it even reaching through the shield of hair across his face.

"I do! We're going to eat like the king and queen of the mill tonight."

"Queen of the Mill, hm?" Daryl snorted down at her and shook his head, but then stretched out his hand towards her in offering. "Well c'mon, your highness. Time to cook some squirrels. If that ain't beneath you."

"Daryl Dixon, nothing involving you in beneath me." Beth gripped his hand and rose to her feet and Daryl suddenly felt that sort of rootless feeling again. He wasn't sure whether it was her bubbly laughter, or the sudden nearness of her body so close to his, or her hand still clasped in his own, but all he could do was stand there blinking at her until suddenly she smiled and squeezed his hand… and he was anchored once more. Or at least tethered.

Merle would have made some joke about a dog on a leash or a ball and chain, but the truth was, Daryl had never felt anchored in his life before, in any way at all… and the truth was he didn't really mind it one bit.

Dinner was one of the best he remembered having in a while. Beth roasted the squirrel, corn, and beachnuts all together and it was almost like a real dinner, even if they didn't have plates. They just ate it right out of the pot with their hands, and who needed a fork when instead he got to watch Beth giggling as she scooped dinner into her mouth with her slender fingers?

After, there was a moment where he didn't seem to know what to do with himself. He just stood there kinda hulking over her, hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched again, probably looking as awkward as he felt. But she just curled up on the mattress with her legs tucked to the side and patted the space next to her with a soft smile. "C'mon, King of the Mill. You get to choose the book tonight. You want to finish reading the one we started, or start another one?"

With a slight grunt, he lowered himself down beside her on the mattress and gave a little shrug to say he didn't care either way. But then she leaned into him just enough for their arms to brush, and the warmth of her touch had him muttering, "Finish the one from yesterday." He hesitated, and then reached out to tap the cover of it. "Wanna see if he gets that damn Falcon or not, y'know?"

"Oh good choice, me too!" Beth gleefully picked it up and flipped to the page she'd marked by turning down the corner. Soon the room was filled with her soft, melodious voice, and Daryl just let himself relax and get pulled right back into the story. He was so relaxed that when he took over reading for her a short while later, he didn't even flinch at how she shifted to lean against him, or at how eventually she ended up with her cheek resting on his shoulder as she peered down at the book in his lap.

It was twenty minutes later that his voice trailed off and he glanced down at Beth to realize she'd fallen asleep. Her cheek was pillowed on his chest, her cheeks faintly rosy from the shared warmth of their bodies and the fire in the iron stove. She was curled up against him with one of the blankets tugged up over her shoulder and as he watched her, he found himself noticing the littlest things… like the fringe of her eyelashes against her skin, or the faint smile on her lips even in sleep… or the way looking at her like this had him feeling all strange again, like something inside of him was suddenly so light he could up and float away and yet all he wanted was to stay right here. With her.

Even in sleep the girl could knock him onto his ass; metaphorically, anyway. But that was Beth. Hard but soft, strong but sweet. Figured a girl like him could hit him in the gut just by falling asleep on his shoulder. It was terrifying and yet he didn't feel the need to run, didn't feel the need to push her off him and growl and stalk away like some antisocial animal.

She's changing you, baby brother. Got you wrapped around her finger. That ain't no anchor, s'ball and chain Darylina, and you know it.

Merle's voice echoed through his mind, travelling down paths it had long since worn into his psyche but for once it didn't work. For once, Merle's voice didn't worm it's way into his mind. For once he shook it off with a grimace that smoothed out the moment he looked down at Beth, curled up against him. She looked so… content, and peaceful, and maybe even happy.

She looked the way he felt right now with her laying against him. Like they'd been given this moment, brief as it might have been, just to be content. Just to have peace.

Before her, it hadn't really been the sort of thing he'd have thought he wanted and yet right now, he thought he might aggressively charge down anything that dared interrupt the quiet, simple moment. So when Beth stirred against him, blinking up at him and mumbling a sleepy, "Daryl?" He just shook his head and slung his arm around her back.

"Shh," he murmured, his hand coming to rest on her slender shoulder as he nudged her into resting her cheek back against his. "S'alright. Go t'sleep, Beth. I got you."

Half-asleep, she sighed out, "Promise?"

"Always." He didn't even have to think about it. He would watch her all night long if it meant letting her have the peaceful moment she deserved.

(The peaceful moment maybe they both deserved.)

"Daryl! Daryl wake up!" His eyes were fluttering open even before she began to gently shake his shoulder, and by the time her fingers curled in tighter he was sitting up sharply to shoot her a worried look.

"Beth?" His sleep-rough voice ground out the worried words, "What is it? Y'okay?" The contentedness of the night must have lured him to sleep, though he couldn't remember much of that. That warm peacefulness was gone now, banished by the jarring way he'd been woken up and that anxious look in her big blue eyes.

"I'm okay but I think something happened, Daryl. C'mon, you have to come see."

"Beth…" But she was already climbing to her feet and tugging him with her, and even if he'd wanted to protest he couldn't. Not when she was looking at him with those big damn eyes like she needed him to come with her.

"C'mon, hurry…"

He stopped only long enough to grab the strap of his bow and sling it over his back and then he was following her, fingers straying instinctively to the hilt of the knife he wore at his waist. He only pulled his hand away from it to remove the table that was propped up against the door and then back to the knife his fingers went as he followed her out into the early morning sunlight.

"Alright," he grunted, worry lending a sharper edge to his already gruff voice. "What the hell is it, Beth?"

"Look." For a moment he just blinked at her, until his gaze shifted to follow her outstretched arm and pointed finger… and then he saw it.

Curling above the tree tops far off in the distance; a thick, heavy cloud of smoke. Something was burning.

Something big.

And he thought he had a feeling exactly what it was.

"Beth, we need to get inside. Now."

**A/N: Dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnnn! Hope you liked it? Reviews are love, thanks for reading!