For a majority of his life Daryl Dixon didn't think for himself. He followed along behind his older brother blindly. He never questioned whether it was wrong or right, the things they did, or if he should do something about it. Not until years later and the down fall of the world, reanimation of the dead brought about his first questioning of what they were doing. It took his brother getting lost, a hand gone to the world to discover he had thoughts of his own, opinions even.
Daryl Dixon was intelligent, brilliant even, but still a bit of a follower. He took to Rick's side like glue, the two like brothers, thick as thieves.
He began to change his ways. The changes truly began to happen when their group made it to the prison and built a home there. Beth and Daryl began to bond, becoming close friends. For Daryl, it was a little bit more.
The prison's resident hunter was falling for the blonde. She became a light in the very dark tunnel of his life, she became a guiding force.
He was too afraid to ask for help, for guidance. Especially from her, his best friend, his only love. When he took off with Merle he did the only thing he knew: He stuck with his brother. Family is family, but he came to realize that family isn't always blood. It's where the home is, where you feel safe, loved and that you're one of them.
His decision to go home wasn't much of a choice. It was an inner battle fought with tooth and nail. In the end he chose to go home, willing (hating it, but willing nonetheless) to leave his brother behind. Merle went with him, to Daryl's relief.
When they arrived back at the prison they were greeted by the people Daryl had come to know as family. His eyes searched out the piercing blue of his Beth, when he finally found them in the sea of his families faces he went to her, drank in the sight of her. All she said before wrapping her arms around his middle were three simple words that were everything. "You belong here."
That evening after the prison had settled down and he had lain away for hours in his bunk staring at the ceiling he got up and made his way to her cell. He'd come to learn that she was a night owl and relished the quietness of the night. He clicked his nails on the bars of her door, waiting for her to softly call out to enter.
His heart jumped to his throat as he entered her cell. He knelt at the edge of her bunk on the floor in front of her. His eyes filled with sorrow and pain that he couldn't quite figure out how to form into words. She tentatively, slowly reached one hand over to caress his cheek softly. She waited patiently while he fought himself on what he wanted to say.
When he finally found the words they poured out of him like a flowing river. "Help me find the difference 'tween right and wrong. I'm tryin' an' it's like I'm always choosin' wrong."
"You chose right. You came home, Daryl Dixon. You followed your heart and that's all that matters. Follow your heart and you'll always choose the right path." She kept her voice soft.
He felt her words reverberate through him, ringing true. He'd always been able to spot the truth from the lies. The rawness in his voice would have brought Beth to her knees had she been standing. "Am I makin' this up? There's somethin' here, ain't there? I gotta know, Beth. I'm thinkin' so hard an' I know I'm missin' the mark." He stood to leave having barred his soul he felt defenseless and needed to retreat and rebuild his deenses. She stood as well and grabbed his arm, a tug to it had him slowly turning around.
"There's somethin'. I know what it is for me. Do ya feel the same?"
Neither would be able to say who closed the distance between each other and hugged who first. They stood hugging for an immeasurable amount of time until Daryl leaned his head down, startling himself, to kiss the top of her forehead.
From that night on Beth helped Daryl to follow his heart. Sometimes he whispered a soft "Help me," and she guided him, his light in the tunnel, through his emotions and down the right path.