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Beth's head was pounding when she woke. She groaned and sat up in bed with a stretch. The previous night came rushing back to her; she remembered drinking whiskey and playing "I Never" with Daryl, and then she remembered kissing him and how he had rejected her. She hadn't attempted to approach him the night before and instead went to bed fuming. It was the first time she hadn't gone to sleep curled up next to him since they had been at the cabin. She had laid in bed alone for quite some time before falling asleep, but she never heard Daryl come back inside. His rejection of her had hurt and made her feel angry, confused, and everything in between.

Beth sighed and flipped back the covers, pulling up the shoulder of the oversized flannel she had been wearing to sleep in. She opened the bedroom door and shuffled out into the cabin, which appeared to be empty. She made her way into the bathroom and began brushing her teeth, noticing that her eyes were puffy from restless sleep. When she finished brushing her teeth, she splashed some cold water on her face and went out into the living room, where she noticed that Daryl had scrawled a note on the back of a canned food label and had pinned the label to the door.

"Gone hunting," she read his chicken scratch handwriting aloud. She sighed. She didn't know if Daryl had slept at all the night before, and he was clearly avoiding her if he was leaving her notes to wake up to instead of telling her where he was going himself. It made her angry with him all over again. He was acting like a child, which was ironic considering that his objection to her young age had been what had started this mess.

She sat down heavily on one of the living room couches and laid down, tucking her legs into the flannel and curling into herself. A small part of her regretted kissing Daryl the night before, but only a small part. The whiskey had given her the courage to act on the desire she had been feeling for quite some time, and she didn't regret making her sentiments known. She just wished Daryl had handled it better. If he didn't want her, and not just because of her age, she needed to know.

Beth closed her eyes and tried to fall back asleep. As soon as Daryl returned from his hunt, she was going to make him talk about what had happened the night before. She wasn't going to let him run off again, and if he tried, there was going to be hell to pay. Beth was angry and needed answers.

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," she muttered to herself, feeling the truth behind the words.

Daryl was avoiding the cabin. He had caught a fat opossum nearly an hour ago, but still he wandered through the woods, hardly even paying attention to any potential tracks on the ground. He knew he was just stalling before going back to the cabin to face Beth, but he wasn't ready for the conversation he knew she would want to have. She had thankfully let him be the night before, but he wasn't stupid. He knew Beth was angry and hurt, and it was unlikely that she would just let the whole thing go.

He sighed to himself and sat down against a tree to rest. It had been a long night. He had kept watch for several hours and had eventually passed out on the front porch. He woke around dawn to the sounds of a snarling walker that had been caught on some of the spikes, reaching for him. He had put down the ghoul and then decided to head out to the woods to hunt. Even though he knew he probably should have woken Beth and told her where he was going, he hadn't wanted to face her yet, so he had settled for a note scrawled on the back of a canned food label and took off for the solitude of the woods. He had been out in the woods for a few hours now, and he knew he should be heading back soon, but the thought filled him with dread.

His mind had been reeling all night. He had been caught off guard when Beth had kissed him, and he couldn't ignore the feelings of electricity and warmth that had accompanied the kiss. He had kissed her back, and he hadn't wanted to stop, but the little breathy moan she had given when his tongue had brushed against hers had jolted him back to reality and reminded him how wrong his desires were. Beth had argued that nothing about it was wrong, and she had made a good point about societal "rules" being obsolete in today's world, but it didn't stop Daryl from feeling like a perverted old man taking advantage of a young girl. It made him feel dirty, and it was a feeling that Daryl was having a very difficult time coping with.

Beth was beautiful, inside and out, and Daryl wanted her. But his desire for Beth came coupled with self-loathing and berating thoughts. Beth deserved so much more than what he could offer her. He was a bitter, damaged man. She deserved someone younger and kinder, and he had no idea why she seemed to want him. He wished that he was able to give himself to her like she wanted, but it was easier said than done. He had convinced himself that he was sick and predatory for wanting her, and it was a hard thing to overcome. How could he be with her romantically when every less-than-pure thought or touch made him feel guilty and dirty?

Daryl had also thought about Hershel and what the old man would have done if he knew about the way Daryl had been thinking of Beth. Daryl had respected Hershel greatly, and he felt as though it was a disservice to the man's memory to even think of defiling his youngest daughter. If Heaven existed, Daryl was sure Hershel was there staring down at him now demanding that Daryl keep his filthy hands off his daughter. Between Daryl's self-hatred for his feelings and his respect for Hershel's memory, he couldn't see how things could ever work out with Beth beyond friendship.

Daryl groaned and hauled himself to his feet. It was nearing mid-morning, and Beth was probably waiting for him to return. He had to bite the bullet and talk to her. He had avoided her for too long. With a heavy sigh, he began walking in the direction toward the cabin, his footsteps heavy with trepidation.

Beth was sick of waiting. She had been unable to fall back asleep, and after laying on the couch for what felt like hours, she finally got up and got dressed. She had tidied the cabin as much as possible, and she had been pacing in the living room for quite some time. She was starting to go stir crazy. She knew Daryl was avoiding her, and the longer she waited, the more annoyed she got. Finally she decided that she had to get out of the cabin for a bit. The empty cabin was just a constant reminder of Daryl's absence.

Beth made sure she had her Swiss army knife tucked in her pocket and shoved on her shoes. She decided to walk down to the stream that was a few hundred feet behind the cabin. It was a beautiful fall morning, and maybe the serenity of the stream would calm her. Beth closed the front door behind her and slipped through the gap in the spikes. She noticed the body of a walker that had been dragged away from the cabin a bit, which must have meant Daryl had killed it the night before. The bloody holes through its abdomen indicated that it had speared itself on the spikes, which made Beth feel better. At least the spikes were still working.

She soon reached the stream and sat down on a rock by the water's edge. Though her surroundings were peaceful, Beth still felt upset. She had run over the conversation she wanted to have with Daryl in her mind many times, and the anxiety over it only increased as time went on. She sighed heavily and bent down to remove her shoes, rolling up her jeans and placing her feet in the chilly water and enjoying the sensation of the water running over her bare feet. Her eyes traveled over the water and landed on a fairly large turtle sunning itself on a rock near the middle of the stream. She admired it for a few moments before realizing that the turtle could be a potential meal. She had no idea how to butcher a turtle, but she was sure Daryl could figure it out if he didn't know how already.

She wasn't sure how deep the water was near the middle of the stream where the turtle was sunbathing, but it looked as though she could get to if she used some of the rocks jutting out from the water as a walkway. Beth stood from where she was sitting and approached the first rock. She took a tentative step forward onto it, careful not to slip on the moss that coated its edges. She moved slowly as she approached the second rock so as not to scare off her prey. Her toes gripped the slick surface of the rock as she inched forward, her arms reaching out to grab the turtle and her brow furrowed in concentration.

Suddenly the snarl of a walker startled her out of her approach. Her eyes snapped up to the sound at the same time that her foot slipped on the wet rock upon which she stood. She caught a quick glimpse of the walker down the riverbank before she tumbled into the water. It was deeper than she had anticipated, and she emerged coughing and spluttering. The water went up past her waist, and it was freezing cold. Beth tried to catch her breath as she focused on the biter that was heading her way. As she tried to wade toward the opposite bank, she realized with horror that her foot was caught between the rocks under the water. She pulled hard, but her foot was wedged tight. She began to feel panicked as the walker entered the water and made its way toward her with its decaying arms reaching for her. No matter how hard she pulled, she was still caught. She resigned herself to fending off the ghoul in the water and frantically pulled her knife from her pocket, flipping open the blade and trying to steady her stance.

The walker was soon on her. Its jaws snapped at her, and she threw up her left arm to hold it at bay. With one foot caught, she was unsteady on her feet, and the force of the walker's attack made her stumble. She fell back against the rock she had fallen from and struggled to keep her head above the water and the walker's gnashing teeth away from her. She thrust her blade up and buried it in the biter's face, but her aim had been too low, the knife plunging into the rotter's cheek and accomplishing nothing. She frantically withdrew the blade and struck again, this time successfully piercing the walker's forehead and ending its second life. The weight of its body fell forward on her, pushing her back against the rock and underwater. She thrashed against the corpse, trying desperately to push it off of her. Her foot was still caught and she panicked, realizing she might drown if she couldn't free herself.

Suddenly the weight of the walker's corpse was lifted, and she burst to the surface, gasping for air. Daryl's face came into view on the rock above her, his expression panicked as he tossed the biter's body to the side and extended a hand to her to help her out of the water. Beth shook her head as she attempted to catch her breath.

"My foot's stuck," she said when she was able to speak. "It's wedged between some rocks underwater."

Daryl made to jump into the water, but Beth held up a hand to stop him.

"Let me see if I can dive under and see where it's stuck. You only have that one set of clothes, I don't want you getting them wet if you don't have to."

She took a deep breath and crouched down beneath the water's surface, opening her eyes and trying to see through the somewhat murky water. Her foot was caught in a narrow space between two rocks, but the fabric from her pants didn't seem to be caught on anything. Her foot was simply wedged in the tight space. Instead of pulling like she had been, she instead tried kicking forward, and immediately some of the pressure was relieved. She came up from underwater and stood before kicking forward again, this time freeing her foot from its trap.

"I got it," she said. She reached over to the walker's corpse and yanked her knife from its forehead and waded back toward the shore, Daryl carefully following alongside her on the rocks.

"How'd you fall in?" he asked.

"There was a turtle sunbathing on one of the rocks. I was trying to capture it for a meal," she said. "A walker came out of nowhere and startled me and I fell. I had to fight it off with my foot stuck in the rocks, and then its body crushed me after I killed it. You definitely have good timing. I could have drowned if you hadn't shown up when you did."

Daryl reached down to grab the dead opossum he had tossed on the riverbank, Beth grabbing her discarded shoes, and walked alongside her back toward the cabin. They slipped through the gap in the spikes and went inside, Beth's drenched clothing leaving a trail of dripping water on the floor. Daryl closed the door behind them and met Beth's eyes.

"I'm sorry for avoiding you," he said quietly. "I'm glad I came back when I did. Can't lose you."

Beth sighed. "What do you want, Daryl?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. What do you want with me? Sometimes you say things to me that make me think you want more than just my friendship, but you rejected me last night. What do you want?"

Daryl shrugged and avoided Beth's eyes. "I dunno."

"That's bullshit, Daryl. You do know. I know what I want. I know I want you. I want to be more than just your friend. Is that what you want, too?"

"It ain't just about what I want, Beth. That's not the issue."

"Then what is?" Beth demanded. "Is it just because of my age?"

Daryl didn't answer, just gave a half shrug of his shoulders.

"What if I was ten years older? Would you want to be with me then?"

"But you ain't ten years older, Beth. You're nineteen. I know you say social rules don't matter anymore and you're right, they don't, but that don't change the fact that I feel like a dirty old man every time I think about touchin' you."

"But that's not true. You aren't a dirty old man. It's not like you're taking advantage of me or anything like that. I want this, and there's nothing wrong with it."

Daryl sighed, his heart almost aching. "You don't think so, but I do. How can you expect me to be with you when I constantly feel guilty for thinking of you that way? Do you have any idea what that's like? To be constantly disgusted with yourself for what you feel? I can't give in to what I want, because then I'll just hate myself more."

Beth's frustrated expression softened, and she took a step toward him. "I'm sorry you feel that way," she said gently. "But it's all in your head. You've convinced yourself that wanting me is wrong, but you're the only one who thinks so. You have the power to change it."

He shook his head, wishing it were easier to change his way of thinking. Beth tentatively took another step forward and took his hands in hers.

"It's the end of the world, Daryl," Beth said quietly. "You shouldn't try to convince yourself that you're doing something wrong. Our lives could be short, and we don't really have time for that. You aren't doing anything wrong. And I'm not a child. I'm a woman, and I'm old enough to know what I do and don't want. I want you. There is nothing wrong with that."

Daryl nodded once, his throat feeling tight. How could Beth be so kind and understanding when he told her that thinking of her made him disgusted with himself? He didn't deserve her kindness or her desire.

"So will you at least admit to me that you want more with me?" she asked.

"Okay," he said, exhaling a long breath. "I do. I just . . . I can't just do a complete 180 and rewire the way my brain thinks. I'll try, but it's easier said than done."

Beth's face broke into a warm, genuine smile, and Daryl felt the tightness in his chest that he was starting to frequently feel when she smiled.

"Good. That's better than anything I was hoping for," she said. She stepped away from him and peeled the wet shirt from her body.

"Whoa, what are you doing?" Daryl asked, instinctively taking a step back from her.

"Just getting out of these wet clothes," Beth said as she tugged off her soaked jeans. She stood before him wearing nothing but a pair of black lacy panties and a matching black bra, looking more womanly than Daryl had ever seen her.

"Beth . . ." Daryl's heart was racing as she took a step closer to him. He tried not to look at her body, but he felt unable to draw his eyes away from her.

"See? I'm a grown woman," she said. "And however you're feeling when you look at me is not wrong. You need to start telling yourself that."

Daryl stood frozen to the spot, torn between his impulse to bolt away from her and to keep staring at her. She took another step toward him and stood directly in front of him. Before he could stop her, she turned her face up toward him and pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss. Daryl kept his hands firmly at his sides, his hands curled into tight fists. He tentatively kissed her back, but kept his response as innocent as he could. She pulled away after a moment, her wide blue eyes shining and her lips spreading into a smile.

"You can touch me," she said softly, glancing down at Daryl's tightly clenched fists that remained at his sides.

"Can't," he muttered, his voice hoarse.

"Why not?"

"Cause if I start touchin' you, I won't be able to stop."

Beth felt a heat in the pit of her stomach upon hearing his words, and it took all her self-control not to immediately press her body against his.

"Maybe that's not a bad thing," she whispered.

Daryl shook his head and took a step back from her.

"I can't," he said again. "Not yet. I'm tryin' here, Beth. You gotta give me time to adjust to this whole idea."

Beth sighed, but nodded in understanding.

"Okay," she said. "Whatever you need."

She stepped away from him and walked away into the bedroom to change into some dry clothes. As much as she needed Daryl to touch her, to possess her completely, she would gladly wait if it meant she could eventually have him. However, the throbbing she felt between her legs at the thought was impossible to ignore. She just hoped she would be able to wait as long as Daryl needed to feel comfortable with her. She wasn't usually impatient, but Beth wasn't sure how long her resolve would last.

Now we're getting somewhere . . . ;) Please review!