I'm reeeeeeeeeally happy about this chapter and for different reasons than the last one. This is a bit of a nice Bethyl interlude chapter, so I hope you enjoy it!
"Shit." Daryl's whispered curse was lost in another rumble of thunder overhead, but there was still no doubt they'd been spotted. In fact more than half of the small herd had turned towards them, the bloodied maws of a few of the walkers opening to issue low, hungry groans as they fixed their dead gazes on Beth and Daryl.
His hand twitched to reach towards Beth, but instead he caught himself and slung it around for his crossbow, even though he knew they were outnumbered. "Too many to fight," he whispered, keeping his eyes on the walkers even as he saw Beth in the corner of his vision sliding her new crowbar from the loop of her jeans.
"They're just gonna chase us, if we run. Even if we find shelter…" Her voice was low but strong, despite the hint of a shudder that ran through her body at those words. He knew what she was remembering, knew neither of them wanted to spend another night trapped somewhere with walkers groaning all around them, desperate to get in and tear them apart.
Risking a glance around even as one or two of the walkers began to trundle towards them, Daryl murmured, "We need a distraction. Somethin' to shift their focus long enough for us to get away…"
Thunder rumbled overhead and lightning flashed, zig-zagging through the sky in a fingered branch that found a home at the top of a nearby tree in a loud and flashy crack. As both of them watched, the heads of the walkers turned towards the flash, but only for a moment. Only until it faded, and then their attention was no longer held.
But the lightning seemed to have sparked something else, too. Something that lit up Beth's eyes and brightened her voice as she murmured thoughtfully, "Something flashy." Just as he turned to look at her with a question on the tip of her tongue, she reached into her front pocket and then drew out her closed hand as she remarked, "Something like this?"
Her hand opened and there, nestled against the pale skin of her palm was... a road flare.
Almost nonchalantly, Beth explained, "Found it in the glove compartment of that car, back in the garage by the train tracks, and I thought it might come in…"
Before Beth could even finish Daryl was lifting his hand to briefly cup her face, his thumb gliding over her cheek as he looked into her eyes and breathed out in a rough whisper, "You're fucking amazing, Greene, you know that?"
Whatever she might have said in the seconds that followed, in that moment full of her big eyes holding his and her breath hitching in her chest, it was lost in a crash of thunder overhead that made both of them jump and quickly look back at the slowly approaching herd of walkers.
If they were gonna act, they needed to act now.
He reached out in a swift smooth motion, taking the flare from her hand and fumbling with it until he located the cap in the growing darkness. With a twist of his wrist he removed the cap, spun it around, and began to briskly grind the end of the flare against the striking surface at the end of the cap. It didn't take much, just a few quick movements and suddenly he was holding the flare away from his body as the tip of it sprayed fire in a bright flash.
Already the walkers were looking, and with a grunt he raised his hand back and released it in an arc, tossing the flare to the opposite side of the tracks and back in the direction they'd come. As soon as the flaming stick hit the ground the walkers were turning towards it, arms outstretched, their groans mingling with the rumbles of thunder in the air above as they trundled down the tracks towards the sparking, sizzling flare.
He didn't need to say a word to Beth. Just one look, one brush of his hand down her arm and she was right there with him, darting through the woods on the safe side of the tracks and sticking to the shadows as best they could as they hurried to get out of sight of the mini horde of walkers.
Things might have been easier if that was all they were outrunning, but of course it wasn't. Thunder crashed overhead, lightning flickered and sizzled, and it seemed like no sooner had they left the walkers behind and darted back to the empty, open path of the railroad tracks than the skies above opened up and down came the torrential rain.
"Keep movin'," Daryl grunted, even as the rain pouring down soaked through his clothes in what felt like only seconds.
At his side Beth only panted, too focused on running (and presumably trying not to re-injure her ankle) to do anything else. At least not until the light of the flare was no longer visible behind them and instead in the distance, the glint of lightning on glass had her pointing and crying out, "There!"
It took a few more strides before they were close enough to see the shape of it through the darkness and the rain, but another flash of light went overheard and illuminated the metal shape; it was a work van, driven off a small access road to the tracks and crashed, half in the thicket of overgrown bushes at the side of the dirt road. It wasn't much, but it was something. A contained space, doors to close, cover overhead… that was, if they could get into it.
"We won't be able to jimmy the back doors," Daryl called out, raising his voice over the loud thunder overhead as he gestured at the single handle and keyhole lock. The storm was almost on top of them now, making the ground rumble with it on top of making it hard to hear. "We're gonna have to go in from the passenger side…"
Beth was already unslinging her backpack and reaching in for the wire he'd gotten at the garage by the railroad tracks. The moment she pulled it free she offered it up to him, but Daryl instantly shook his head. "Uh uh. This is all you, girl. Go on." He gestured towards the door and then added gruffly, knowing the teasing would motivate her and help her feel less anxious all at the same time, "I'd like to get out of this rain… any day now Greene…"
If she thought it was a bad idea, she didn't argue. It was one of the numerous things Daryl liked about Beth. She took your trust at it's face value. She wouldn't argue, or knock herself by claiming she wasn't capable. If she thought you believed she could do something, then she'd damn well try it. Just like she was now, peeling back the weather stripping on the window of the van and gently inserting the curved end of the thick wire in the gap beneath it.
In his head he gave encouragement, but out loud he said nothing. He trusted her. She'd picked this up fast enough in the garage, and despite the loud and wet conditions, she could do it here just as well here. Sure enough it was only a minute before he heard a decisive 'click' as she hooked the end of the wire under the small pin and pulled it to disengage the lock.
"Got it!" Beth exclaimed with a grin that was faintly visible as lightning arced through the sky, lighting up a face that glistened from the rain.
She was already climbing onto the passenger seat as he remarked, "Ain't as nimble as you, girl. Climb in the back, see if you can't unlock the back for me?" His words were gruff, but his pride showed on his face and it lingered, deepening when he moved around to the back of the van just in time to see the doors swing open.
"See?" He climbed into the back of the van, dripping water everywhere as he reached out and carefully pulled the door shut behind them. Only once they were safely inside did he turned to her and add in a low, slightly-rough voice, "Told you I'd make a pretty little criminal out of you."
Her gaze lingered on his for a moment, undeniable warmth in her eyes before she ducked her head slightly and breathed out, "A pretty wet little criminal…"
"That too," he chuckled, looking down at his own soaking wet clothing as he knelt in the back of the small work van. Above them thunder crashed, making the walls of the van vibrate faintly as water continued to pour rhythmically down the sides. "We should get changed out of these clothes…"
If Daryl had spoken without thinking then he acted without thinking too. It was instinct that had him stripping off his vest and his jacket, leaving him in only a black, button-down shirt with the sleeves cut off and his sopping wet jeans. It was only when he looked up that he found himself freezing, found himself realizing he wasn't the only one who had acted without thinking Because there was Beth just a few feet away from him, her flannel shirt on the ground as she stripped off her tank top to reveal the worn off-white bra she had on underneath. The pale fabric was soaked through and fuck if he couldn't see a hint of the dusky rose of her nipples beneath the fabric that clung to her chest.
His breath hitched in his chest again at the sight of her and he knew he should turn away. He knew he should turn his back to her, give her privacy to change out of her wet clothes and into something dry (if they had anything dry), but he couldn't do it. He couldn't look away, not when she was right there, not when she had lifted her own gaze to meet his and despite the flush to her cheeks she showed no sign of turning away, either.
Beth just stayed right there, kneeling a couple feet away from him, her chest rising and falling with her slightly-ragged breaths as her eyes held his. God, she was so damn beautiful. Skin so soft and pale, her eyes so big and bright even in the darkness, her hair curling in wet tendrils stuck to her skin. He couldn't have looked away even if he'd wanted to, and he didn't. He wanted to drink her in, he wanted to never have to look away from her ever again. She was that radiant.
And she had a pull to her, like gravity. Like he couldn't seem to help moving on his knees towards her, narrowing down the gap from two feet to one, until he was close enough to hear the sound of her shorter breaths through her parted lips as she tipped her head back and looked up at him.
In the silence accented only by the drumming of rain across the roof of the van, he found himself lifting his hand again to cup the side of her face. It fascinated him how she could be so strong, so fierce, and yet so small. Her face felt so tiny against his hand and yet the curve of her cheek seemed to perfectly fit the shape of his palm. Her skin was damp, but it was so soft against the rough of his palm, too, and the brush of his thumb across it was almost like touching a rose petal, slightly damp with morning dew.
The path his finger took across the curve of the apple of her cheek was accented by a little intake of breath from Beth, whose eyes never once left his as she exhaled in a soft sigh. She didn't pull away, either. Instead she tilted her cheek gently against his hand, encouraging him to brush his thumb across her soft skin once more even as the tips of his fingers gently curled into the wet tendrils of her hair.
It was a moment that felt intensely intimate, but it wasn't because of where they were. It wasn't because of the tightness of the enclosed space, or the thunder and rain echoing around them. He knew in his gut that this would have felt just as intimate even if they'd somehow been in the middle of a field full of people. Even then it would have felt like it was only the two of them, as if for that moment everything around them- from each person right down to each single blade of grass- faded from existence.
All that mattered was the silk of her skin beneath his palm, and the smile that graced her lips as her eyes fluttered half shut and she hummed in pleasure at the touch. At his touch. In truth, the fact that she was responding in this way was just as incredible to Daryl as the fact that he was touching her at all, and yet it seemed right. It seemed natural.
Just as it did to lean in, close the gap between them, and once again press his lips to hers. The slow kiss lingered as her hands rose between them to press against his sleeveless shirt, making the damp fabric cling to his skin as he groaned against her lips. One of his hands remained tangled in her wet hair, but the other came down to curl over the curve of her hip. He felt so acutely aware of where the fabric of her jeans ended and her skin began, the warm softness of it enough to make his hand tingle with the urge to feel more, to brush his hand up over the dip of her waist and explore the expanse of her flat stomach…
His hand had just begun to do that, fingers splaying wider as he ghosted his touch up to glide over the dip of her waist, when Beth broke the kiss with a soft gasp and pulled slightly back.
Instantly he froze, hand tensing where it was as his shoulders went tight. He opened his mouth, on the brink of apologizing for daring to touch her, but before he could she shook her head. "No. It's not… don't apologize." She giggled softly, her cheeks flushed as she pointed at him. "I see you about to apologize. You've got that… that look in your eyes like you think you did something wrong and lord, Daryl-" Suddenly Beth's voice was breathy again, her eyes holding his to make sure he saw the solemn truth in them as she exhaled, "You haven't done anything but right. I promise. It's just…" And here she flushed again, ducking her head briefly before peering up at him from under her lashes to add with a little laugh, "Do you have any idea how uncomfortable soaking wet jeans are?"
His own laughter rumbled in his chest, mingling with the vibrations of the thunder that now seemed to be directly ahead of him. Looking down at his own soaked jeans, he grunted with a hint of a wry smile, "Think I got some idea…"
"We should, um…" Seemingly flustered, Beth looked down between them and then to her backpack, which was just as wet as her clothes were, frankly. He had a feeling his were just as bad, though he was hoping something towards the center of the bag might have avoided getting soaked.
"Tell you what," Daryl remarked, pointedly ignoring (for now anyway) the fact that at some point they'd both need to strip off their pants, at which time they'd be barely dressed in this very confined space, "Let's see if anything in our bags is dry, and if we can find anythin' in this van too and then we'll… uh… figure somethin' out."
It was better than no plan at all, anyway, so with the taste of her lingering on his lips and the palm of his hand still warm with the memory of her skin, Daryl turned his focus to rummaging through his bag as Beth did the same with her own.
A few minutes later and they had a better grasp of their situation. The van turned out to be some kind of work van, he assumed for whoever took care of this section of the railroad tracks. Most of it was useless to them, but the driver seemed to be the type to always be prepared; the tools were no use, but they found a folded up blanket behind the passenger seat, as well as a spare sweater hanging over the driver's seat. In his own bag, Daryl had found a pair of jeans that was relatively dry, but all the rest of his clothes seemed as damp as the sleeveless shirt he had on his back. Beth unfortunately hadn't fared as well; pretty much everything in her bag was soaked through, minus a spare pair of socks.
The time spent searching hadn't helped when it came to making a plan. He was just as clueless now as he had been then, equally as a loss for what to do next… and then, as he set his single pair of jeans on top of the dry folded blanket, he glanced up at Beth. She was shivering; even in the darkness he could see that. She had her arms wrapped around her chest, covering the thin fabric of her bra as she trembled there, kneeling on the carpeted floor of the back of the van.
Not having a plan went right out the window, because seeing her like that left him with no choice but to spring into action. "C'mere," he murmured, voice brisk but caring as he rubbed his hands down her arms. "Pants off, and drape them over the back of that chair. Then you put on that sweatshirt, okay? S'big enough that it'll cover most of you. Go on now." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Pants off, Greene."
Her teeth chattered but she didn't protest, already reaching down for the button on her jeans as she teased back in a hitching voice, "Not ex-exactly how I imagined you s-saying that to m-me for the first time…"
"Oh yeah?" Taking refuge in playfulness rather than focusing on the fact that she was right now sliding her wet jeans over her hips while he unbuttoned his own and followed suit, Daryl teased right back in a gruff voice, "That the kinda thing you imagined before, Greene?"
Slipping one leg free, Beth sat back on her ass and leaned forward to tug off her pants entirely, giving another shiver as she glanced up at him and admitted with a tremulous little smile, "Maybe I have…"
"Well…" Daryl's voice grew rougher and he cleared his throat as he kicked off his jeans, focusing as best he could on slipping on the dry pair rather than on the tightness of his wet boxers, or the fact that Beth was sitting right there in nothing but her wet and near-transparent bra and panties. "I ain't a fan of disappointin' you, so…" He slid his legs into his jeans and climbed back to his knees, deftly buttoning him up as his gaze found hers in the darkness to murmur with an unexpectedly warm hint of promise, "Maybe we say this one don't count as the first time. Deal?"
For a few seconds her eyes held his and then she blushed as she reached for the sweater he was now pointing emphatically at. As she tugged the sweater on over her head, he heard her muffled reply through the fabric, "Deal."
And when her head popped out of the opening in the sweater and her eyes met his, Daryl was pretty sure that the shiver that went through her wasn't just from the cold.
After a moment he reached for the clean, rolled up socks, handing them to her insistently. As she put them on he focused on hanging up their clothing to dry as best he could, using the backs of the seats to drape the fabric. His boots and hers were stuck in a corner by the back door, ready to be put on if by some chance they needed to run, and the wet folded up blanket that Beth had been keeping in her bag was unfolded and hung up from the ceiling, using clips he found among the numerous shelves that lines the side of the van. The blanket had a dual purpose like this; it would dry, first of all, but hanging it up between them and the front seats meant it would block any light they lit, and stop it from shining through the windows at the front of the van.
By the time Beth had finished tugging on the socks Daryl had turned on the solar lamp and used it's light to carefully checked the two paperbacks she'd had wrapped up in her blanket (thankfully dry for the most part), before setting their bags against the back door beside their boots. Only then did he turn to Beth and take in the sight of her kneeling there in nothing but socks and an oversized sweater, her hair clinging to her cheeks and her tiny frame still trembling.
"C'mere," he said gruffly, without hesitation.
"Daryl…" Her attempt to protest was cut off by a firm look as he shifted to sit back against the side of the van and unfolded the blanket they'd found a few minutes ago. He'd already decided he was going to do what it took to keep her warm, no matter what. He just hadn't decide what was the best route to take with that. He could wrap her up in the blanket and hope that did the trick, or...
A familiar voice echoed through his mind in a low whisper: "Body heat, baby brother." Okay, so Merle might've been a perv, but the man (or the memory of his voice) did have a point, regardless. He was cold and she was cold, and he knew without a doubt the best way to fix that.
He just had to focus on the practicality of it all. That was what he told himself as he wrapped the blanket around his back and opening his arms, inviting her not only into the blanket, but also his embrace.
It's practical, he told himself as she crawled slowly forward into the space between his spread knees, her body framed between his legs.
It's practical, he firmly reminded himself as she hesitated only a moment and then turned to curl sideways, leaning in until her side rested against his chest and her cheek pillowed against his shoulder so that her nose lightly brushed his neck.
It's practical, he insisted again as he closed the embrace, wrapping her up in both his arms and the blanket, making a warm cocoon around them both and pressing them closer together than they had possibly ever been so far, even that night when they'd ended up hiding side-by-side in the trunk of a car.
The insistent reminder of the practicality of this moment began to fade as she curled against him, as he felt her hand splay against the still slightly-damp fabric of his shirt, just high enough that a shift of her hand and her fingers might graze his skin through the gap above the buttons. Any thought of practicality dissipated entirely with the feeling of her breath ghosting over his neck and the way she pressed the tiniest bit closer as thunder crashed and rumbled overhead.
"I've got you," he murmured thickly, more focused on helping her to stop trembling then he was on reminding himself that this was strictly practical. (Because it wasn't, and of course he knew that beneath the excuses.)
"I've got you too," she murmured back, tipping her head just enough so that she could look up at him. It was in looking at her eyes, so full of understanding and knowing, that he realized his body was trembling faintly, too. He just wasn't sure if it was from the cold or from the intensity of having her so close to him, closer than he thought he'd ever had anyone before… at least sober and willing, anyway.
It could have been awkward. Maybe it should have been, by all rights. But it wasn't, and he didn't have to be a genius to know why he felt so comfortable holding her close and resting his chin on the top of her head as she settled against him. Because it was Beth. Sweet, soft, warm-hearted Beth, curled in his arms and close to his chest, relaxing against him as if she trusted him implicitly and making him realize that he felt the same exact way about her. He trusted her like he'd never trusted anyone in his life.
They stayed like that for at least ten minutes, warming each other's bodies with the closeness of their own and the thick blanket kept snug around them. When he finally felt her trembling slow and ease, Daryl finally found it in him to break the relative silence and ask softly, "Better now?"
As she looked up at him, Beth's gaze had a warmness to it that was beginning familiar now. It was a warmth that reminded him of that day in the barn, or the moments beneath the pecan tree, a warmth that was echoed by the hint of a smile that crossed her lips as she breathed out lowly in reply, "A little bit…"
In that warm look and that shy but sweet smile, he saw hints of exactly what he could do to make her feel even better. Hell, to make them both feel better. He knew it wasn't words; because frankly he was shit at words. He was all about action. Once that had been keeping a group moving, hunting and killing and tracking. Now it was about pulling her close in his arms and wrapping his arms around her. Now it was about sliding his fingers beneath the delicate curve of her jaw, tipping back her head, and leaning in to slot his lips against the seam of her own.
The sigh she exhaled into the kiss told him it was exactly what she'd wanted, exactly what she'd hinted at in that little coy smile. Only this time it was more, too. This time it didn't stop at firm kisses and the beginnings of gentle caresses over hips or backs. This time somehow, as her lips parted against his, Beth ended up shifting in his lap to straddle his thighs. He only hesitated a moment before his own arms adjusted, keeping the blanket wrapped loosely around them as his hands spanned her back, feeling the curve of it beneath the sweater.
For her own part Beth never broke her lips from his, but managed to encourage him without needing to. When his hands splayed at her back she sighed into the kiss again, and as they began to drift slowly down he heard her give a soft, low noise against his lips. It was one he couldn't help wanting to hear again so this time, like the last, he let his hands drift. With the blanket resting over her shoulders his hands slid down over her back and then, after only a few seconds of pausing, over the curve of her ass. Here her breathing hitched but Beth didn't stop, didn't do anything other than tilt her head just right to deepen the kiss and- lord, that sound she made. No it wasn't just any sound, it was a moan. Soft and breathy, but a moan nonetheless, and he took it as the encouragement it was.
Only one hint of hesitation and then he gave in to action instead, trusting his gut (and the signs she was leaving for him to follow) and slipping his hand under the hem of the warm sweater to seek out her far warmer skin beneath it. Fucking hell. By most people's standards, they weren't doing much of anything at all, but Daryl didn't give a shit about other people's standards. All that mattered was his and Beth's, and the fact that this simple touch of his broad hands against the soft bare skin of her back was far more intimate than anything he'd ever felt in his life.
He couldn't get enough. He didn't want to. He could have sat there for hours kissing her like this, tasting her on his lips and tongue, swallowing the soft hums and moans that she spilled into his lips as his hands slid up and down the delicate curve of her back, mapping out her warm skin.
Hell, he probably would have stayed like that for hours, if they hadn't been interrupted by a crash of thunder so loud overhead that the whole van shook with it and he and Beth both jumped… only to dissolve into giggles as their wide-eyed gazes met in the gloom that followed. Well, she dissolved into giggles; his was more a low husky chuckle, but still. They ended up just looking at each other, laughing, his hands still on her back and her lips so prettily swollen from their kisses that he was tempted to go right back to kissing her.
"We should get some rest while we can," Beth murmured, though she showed no signs of pulling away.
He nodded, but frankly he wasn't inclined to pull away either, even though he knew that getting some sleep was important.
"C'mere," Beth murmured, slipping off his lap and ensuring that he'd follow her, if only because for the moment he couldn't seem to bear the loss of her warmth. As he watched she laid out the blanket on the carpeted floor of the van and laid down on it, long legs stretching out from under her sweater as she smiled so sweetly up at him that he felt his heart give an aching throb of need. (And if it was echoed by another ache, somewhere beneath the waistband of his unusually tight-jeans, well, he ignored that. For now, anyway…)
He didn't hesitate more than a moment. Just shifted to lay right down beside her on his back, even smiling faintly at the way she instantly fitted herself against his side, slung her arm across his chest, and nuzzled her nose against his neck until he turned and surprised them both by catching her lips with his own in a soft kiss.
"Get some rest," she whispered against his lips, stealing one more kiss before she sighed and let her cheek rest against his shoulder. "Goodnight, Daryl…"
As he wrapped his arm around her and held her close to the warm safety of his broad chest, Daryl's low words rumbled through them both, "Goodnight, Beth." And it occurred to him that if she felt safe like this, she wasn't the only one. He felt safe, too, and it wasn't because of the locked, secure van, or the instinctive safety that could be found in the confines of a womb-like space. No. He felt safe because of the girl curled up against him, all long legs and tangled wet hair and kiss-swollen lips.
He felt safe because he was with her. She was his harbor in a storm more than a van or any other roof-covered shelter could ever be.
See, I'm not entirely making them stick to just kissing! They're moving... I mean slowly, but still, this IS a slow burn after all. Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I also hope you're enjoying the more frequent updates! I've found that focusing on this one fic makes the writing come a lot easier to me. And all your comments help so much, every one I get is like a brick in the wall I build up against my anxiety... or something cool and metaphorical like that. Thanks so much for reading!