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Chapter Nineteen. You'll Be Here.

When Beth comes into the kitchen through the back door, she looks like she's sleep walking, and Daryl immediately pours her a cup of coffee, bringing it to her.

"Thanks," she gives him a tired smile before cupping the mug with both hands and closing her eyes as she takes a sip. Louis is looking up at her, wagging his tail, excited as always to see her, and she manages to give him a rub behind one of his ears even as she yawns.

"I was makin' breakfast," Daryl tells her, watching her closely; as if he's expecting her to just fall asleep right where she stands.

Beth looks up at him with a small smile. "That sounds wonderful."

And then, as if she needs his help, his hand lightly rests on her back and he guides her to the table. Once she's sitting, sipping her coffee, he returns to the stove where he's working on frying up eggs and bacon. He's learned in the time since he's moved in that sunny side up eggs are one of Beth's favorite foods and would seem to choose to eat it for nearly every meal if the option was available to her.

The call had come just after midnight. Paul Jameson, who owned a nearby dairy farm, had a cow in the throes of labor and Paul wasn't able to get the calf turned in preparation for birth. He had called Beth for help and she had been over there for the rest of the night, helping bring the healthy calf into the world.

"Paul's promised me milk on the house for the next few weeks," Beth smiles as Daryl comes and sets a plate heaping with three eggs and five slices of bacon down in front of her.

Daryl smiles a little at that and returns to the table a few minutes later with his own breakfast. They eat quietly for a few minutes – a comfortable quiet that Daryl supposes he is still getting used to. He doesn't think he's ever had this level of comfort with someone who isn't his mom. And if he has had this before, he can't remember it. He definitely can't remember having it with Amy. If she wasn't filling the silence, it was usually because she was pissed about something. Now that he can look back on it with a clear mind, Daryl realizes that near the end of it between them, Amy always seemed pissed off over one thing or another and he doesn't know why he hadn't been able to see it at the time.

"This is delicious, Daryl. Thank you," Beth smiles at him. "Mexican last night and now, breakfast this morning. I'm feeling spoiled. And very full."

And he gives her a small smile at that in return. "Are you goin' to bed after this?" He asks.

"I wish," she shakes her head. "I have appointments scheduled this morning. I do plan on taking a shower, though. I smell like I just gave birth to a calf."

He smiles a little at that and when he sees that she's finished eating – everything that he had piled onto her plate now gone – he stands up, carrying both of their empty plates to the sink. He hears Beth get up behind him.

"You don't have to do that, Daryl," she tells him. "You have work to get to, too."

He just shrugs and doesn't say anything as he rinses the dishes off and loads them into the dishwasher. He then goes to the stove for the frying pan. A moment passes and then Beth is standing at the sink beside him, taking the pan from him and rinsing it off herself.

"There was a rule between my daddy and mom. Whoever cooked didn't have to clean," she tells him and he looks at her as she rinses the pan, washing that by hand, and then rinses the silverware, putting that down into the dishwasher.

He doesn't get it. She's been up all night, her arms buried up to her elbows inside of a cow – literally – and she still seems so pretty to him. Her hair is pulled into two braids with a few strands getting loose, hanging in her face, and she's wearing a pair of skintight black yoga capris – and he only knows what they're called because Amy has a ton of them – and a red Atlanta Falcons tee-shirt. And she's right. She doesn't smell too good right now, but he, personally, has smelt worse.

He wonders what her reaction will be, but for once, he acts without letting it stop him. He leans in and kisses her gently on the temple and Beth looks up at him, obviously surprised by the affection, but then she seems to melt into a smile and she turns to him. She doesn't wrap her arms around him – still soapy and wet from washing the pan – but she turns and rests her head on his chest. And Daryl can't stop himself from resting his lips to the top of her head. He's never really been a fan of affectionate like this and he doesn't know what the hell he's doing, but it feels pretty good.

And Beth seems to like it. He can't see her face, but he can hear her smiling.

He briefly wonders what the hell the Doc is doing to him.

"We still goin' to see Jaws tonight?" He asks. "Or are you gonna be too tired?"

"Of course we're still seeing Jaws." Beth pulls her head back so she can look up at him, giving him a frown that wouldn't intimidate a mouse. "Are you trying to get out of it?"

"Course not," he smirks a little. "I've got a few jobs to see to today so I might be a lil' late, but I'll be there."

"I know you will be." She gives him a soft smile that makes his chest feel tight; as if everything held in place by his rib-cage is trying to break through because they don't have enough room now. He's never felt anything like that before and he's not sure what it is.

He and Louis leave the house a few minutes later – Daryl giving Beth a kiss on her forehead before she heads upstairs to take her shower – and he and the dog climb into the pickup. It's just six o'clock in the morning, but already, the humidity is making him feel as if he just stepped from the shower. Louis is panting heavily as if he's dying of thirst and as Daryl drives down the long dirt driveway towards the main road, Daryl turns the truck's AC on full blast and points two of the vents onto the dog.

He drives into town and parks in the diner's parking lot. Since it's way too hot for Louis to sit out in the bed like he usually does, he lets Louis follow after him as Daryl heads inside. As usual, the diner is crowded with guys getting off their shift at the factory or people heading into work and stopping for a bite to eat before punching in the clock. No one blinks an eye at Louis trotting after Daryl as he heads towards the counter where Rick and Shane are sitting and there's an empty stool beside Rick.

"What's up, Dixon?" Shane asks.

"Hey," Daryl lets out a grunt and turns his cup over. His mom appears a moment later with a pot of coffee and she fills his cup nearly to the brim.

"What you want, honey?" She asks.

"Already ate. Jus' needed more coffee," he tells her.

"Doris Jameson was in here earlier, picking up some breakfast for her and Paul, and she was just singing the Doc's praises to high heaven," Paulie says.

"Yeah. Beth jus' got home a lil' bit ago. Had a long night of it," Daryl says.

"How's that going?" Rick asks him, cutting into the massive omelet on his plate.

"Heard you guys were on a date last night," Shane smirks at him.

Daryl doesn't say anything; not even when his mom gasps. He just sips at his coffee and watches as Shane tosses a piece of bacon down to Louis.

"You jus' told me that you and Beth were goin' out. You didn' say it was a date," Paulie says and he looks at her, seeing her eyes narrowed at him.

He just shrugs. "Told you I was goin' out with her. That was the truth." Paulie's eyes seem to narrow even more and Daryl nearly smirks, but he wisely catches himself before he does. He looks to Shane and Rick. "Who told you I was out with her?" He asks.

"I've been sleepin' with one of the waitresses at Rio Rancho, but I ain't gonna tell you which one because her husband is one of the cooks at Rio Rancho," Shane answers with a sly smirk and Daryl nearly rolls his eyes.

"A man of the law can still be shot down like a dog, Deputy Walsh," Paulie tells him.

"You threatenin' me, Paulie?" Shane grins at her.

Rick's quiet as he chews on a bite of omelet and he then looks to Daryl. "So, does this mean you've moved on from Amy?" He asks him. "For good?"

Daryl shrugs his shoulders and sips his coffee. "Looks like it."

He pretends not to see Rick's small smile from the corner of his eye.

After finishing his coffee, Daryl and Louis head out again and with instructions from Paulie, and a Styrofoam container from Dale of pancakes, Daryl drives out to Merle's trailer. It's been two days since either Daryl or Paulie have seen him and even though he does this – disappear for random days without a word to anyone – Paulie is still his mom and she stills worries, not caring how old Merle is.

The trailer situated behind Joe's Bar is a worn-down, old thing, sitting at the end of the back gravel parking lot, just on the edge of the woods but, surprisingly, to everyone, Merle keeps the place clean. It's a habit he picked up from prison and having to always keep his cell tidy.

Climbing the rickety wooden steps to the door, Daryl pounds on it and then listens for any movement inside. It's quiet. Birds chirping in the trees and not much noise other than that. The bar doesn't open until three and right now, no one else is around this area. No one comes and Daryl pounds a bit harder this time.

"Yeah, yeah," he then hears Merle's familiar smoke-roughened voice from inside.

And as soon as Merle unlocks the door, Daryl pulls it open. Merle is already walking away, shuffling into the kitchenette area and Daryl steps inside, Louis following after him. The trailer's dim, the shades pulled over the windows, and smells like stale cigarette smoke and beer. It's hot inside – even with the two fans Merle's got blowing, trying to circulate the air – and that explains the drawn curtains. He's trying to keep it as cool as possible though it doesn't seem to be working.

"Brought you breakfast," Daryl says, setting the Styrofoam container of pancakes down.

Merle is wearing nothing except a pair of boxers, showing off all of his tattoos and scars. When he turns away from the sink, there's an unlit cigarette hanging from his bottom lip and he grins. He takes the container and then goes to sink himself down into the couch.

"Thanks, lil' brother," he says and when he flips open the top, his grin widens at the stack of fluffy golden pancakes inside.

There's a little container of maple syrup, too, and Merle tosses the cigarette onto the coffee table in front of him before picking up the top pancake. Ignoring the syrup for the moment, he takes a big bite.

Daryl eases himself down into the old recliner across from him. "You look like shit," he says.

Merle smirks. "Feel like it, too. Thankfully, Buddy's been lettin' me take a few sick days."

"A few?" Daryl frowns at him. "Why ain't you talkin' to ma or goin' to the doctor?"

Merle just shrugs and takes another bite of pancake. "Jus' been sleepin'. Or tryin' to. And I ain't goin' to a doctor. Who the hell has the money for that? You know I never bought myself insurance."

Daryl sighs and is quiet for a moment, thinking it through. Paulie won't be able to do anything except worry and shove chicken noodle soup and tea down Merle's throat. And while that works for most things, Merle looks like he might need a little something more. He just doesn't look good. He looks tired and he's moving slow and Daryl rarely thinks this of his older brother but right now, Merle just looks old.

"You want to go see the Doc?" Daryl asks after a moment.

"What the hell I just say?" Merle frowns.

"Not the doctor. Beth," Daryl clarifies.

"It look like I got four legs or a tail?" Merle quips, but Daryl can tell that he's giving the suggestion some thought.

Daryl stands up. "Just get dressed."

Merle remains sitting for a moment and then he pulls himself back to his feet and Daryl can see that he does it with some difficulty. He doesn't even think about helping him up though. Merle won't care if he needs it. Merle will just smack him if Daryl even thinks of helping. Sometimes, Merle reminds him of their old man more than Daryl wants.

"I got the cancer, don't I, Doc?" Merle asks her as Beth wipes at his arm where she has just pulled the needle and then covers it with a Band-Aid.

"Shut up, Merle," Daryl gives him a fierce frown.

Merle keeps talking though as if Daryl hasn't said a word. "'ve been smokin' like a chimney since I was twelve. Wouldn' be surprised if that's what gets me in the end."

Beth gives him a gentle smile. "Let's not jump to conclusions," she tells both Dixon brothers. She takes the needle of Merle's blood away to the counter to fill a vile. "I'm going to have this run through all of the tests and I'll be able to let you know by Monday."

"It can't be sooner than that?" Daryl asks her softly.

"I don't want to rush through it. We want to make sure we're thorough," she answers with a shake of her head and that same gentle smile and as she walks past Daryl to return to Merle, she gives his arm a gentle squeeze.

Daryl exhales a breath and then leans back against the steel table that Merle is sitting on, his arms crossed over his chest. Beth has started a chart for Merle and she has sat down on her wheeled stool in front of him.

"What are the main staples of your diet, Merle? Be honest," she tells him.

"Burgers, mostly. Pancakes, too, and eggs. My ma's cakes. Eat a lot of Chef Boyardee. Cigarettes, beer, some weed. Clean from the harder stuff for a couple years now."

"No fruits or veggies? At all?" Beth's smile has slipped into a frown.

Merle shrugs. "Do the veggies on the burgers count?"

Beth's expression lets both men know that no, they don't count. "No wonder you're moving and feeling like a slug right now. I might have a feeling as to what's wrong, but I'll want to wait for the test results. I might be completely off base."

Beth writes down a few notes in Merle's chart. On the other side of the closed door, they can hear two dogs in the waiting room barking at one another. Louis, laying down on the floor next to Beth's stool, lifts his head curiously at the noise.

"I'm dyin', ain't I?" Merle guesses.

"No," Beth answers emphatically. She slaps the chart shut and then stands up. Merle takes the cue and slides down from the table and Daryl straightens himself. "Though with the way you're taking care of yourself, it's a miracle you're not."

Merle grins at that. "Thanks, Doc." He smacks a loud, affectionate kiss on her head and then walks out of the room. Normally, he would have strutted but he just doesn't have the energy to do that at the present moment.

"Here." Daryl reaches into his pocket, pulling out his wallet.

"Don't even think about it," Beth frowns at him.

"You did us a huge favor, lettin' him come see you." He tosses five twenties onto her desk and he then looks at her. "Don't tell our ma, alright? Not until we know what's wrong."

"Aren't you two a little too old to be hiding things from your mom?" Beth asks.

Daryl doesn't bother to respond to that because she already knows the answer. They'll never be too old to hide things from Paulie. They usually wind up always telling her anyway. Just in their own good time and right now, until Merle's blood results come back and Beth can diagnose him, there's no good reason they should make her worry and panic.

Daryl steps to her and his hands go to her cheeks. He gently tilts her head up and kisses her softly on the lips. "Can't thank you enough for this," he tells her in a low voice.

Beth looks up at him, his hands still on her cheeks, Merle's chart hugged to her chest.

"Did you honestly think I would turn you both away?" She asks him softly.

Again, Daryl doesn't answer because, deep down, Beth probably knows that answer, too.

They haven't had a talk, yet, about what they are, but to Daryl, kissing her and taking her out for dinner, it's pretty damn obvious. She's his girl. And honestly, no, he's not used to having a girl who would do something like this for him.

He doesn't tell her that though. Instead, he just lowers his head and kisses her again.

"See you tonight," she whispers, her eyes still closed, her face tilted up towards him, and Daryl can't stop himself from kissing her one more time.

The blanket is spread out on their usual spot in the grass by the fountain in the Commons and as she always does, Beth has brought a picnic basket filled with food and Rosita has brought a bottle of cheap red wine and glasses.

It's dusk and they have a bit of time before the movie starts – not usually beginning until the sky is completely dark. As it usually is for movies in the park during the summer, the Commons is crowded that evening with other picnicking people before a viewing of Jaws.

"What do we have tonight?" Spencer asks after taking a swig of wine from his glass.

"Terrible?" Rosita asks, witnessing his expression after he swallows it down. "It was a bottom shelf, five dollar special."

"Oh, you can tell," he answers her, but he does so with a grin. "When we get married, I'm forcing my parents into footing the liquor bill."

"In order for us to get married, you have to ask first," Rosita points out to him.

Spencer just takes another swig of wine.

Rosita's 28th birthday is in two weeks.

"I made a fresh fruit salad and I have carrot and celery sticks as well as radishes with ranch dressing for dipping," Beth says, pulling the containers out from the basket. "And I have chicken salad and fresh croissants to make sandwiches." She plucks a radish from the tray and extends it to Daryl. "Here, Daryl. Fresh veggies are loaded with so many nutrients."

Daryl smirks a little as he takes the offering. "I get plenty of fresh vegetables."

"You can always use more," Beth replies and he smiles at that. When he takes a loud bite of the radish, it crunching in his mouth, she smiles, too.

Finally, from the depths of the basket, she produces a fresh rawhide bone for Louis and the dog happily takes it and lays down to chew on his own feast.

And the others eat and talk. Mostly Beth, Spencer and Rosita talks. Daryl just sits and eats and listens to what they're talking about. He likes listening to them – even if Spencer mostly just bitches about work. Stories of City Hall are always entertaining. Daryl had no idea that even in a little town like theirs, the game of politics still has to be played. It seems like not much can get done until favors are promised or done. Even getting the gazebo rebuilt, apparently the planning committee had to do a favor for the historical society even though the planning committee technically owned the gazebo since the town owned the gazebo. But apparently, keeping the old people of the historical society happy is always priority.

Just listening to it honestly gives Daryl a headache and he doesn't know how Spencer does it every day.

They finish the croissants and chicken salad, but as the movie screen is lit up and everyone settles in for the movie to begin, they keep munching on the vegetables and ranch dressing. Pillows have been brought as always and Spencer and Rosita take one end of the blanket and Daryl and Beth take the other. Daryl arranges and adjusts his pillows and when he reclines himself back next to Beth, she is watching him with a smile.

"Wha'?" He wonders.

Beth just shakes her head and keeps smiling. "I think you might like movies in the park."

He shrugs at that and looks to the screen as the opening scene – the bonfire on the beach – starts and the camera focuses on the girl who will wind up being the shark's first victim. He hasn't seen this movie in years but it's all coming back to him now.

"Worse ways to spend an evenin'," he concedes and then smiles when Beth pokes him in the side. Before she can pull her hand back, Daryl snatches it up and holds onto it.

Beth smiles and takes his silent signal, scooting herself closer to him until she can rest her head on his shoulder. Daryl's never been a fan of displays of affection out in the open like this but with the park dark and everyone watching the movie, he doesn't feel uncomfortable. Instead, he lifts his arm around Beth's shoulder, holding her close, smiling a little when she snuggles in closer to him as if cold despite the heavy humidity hanging in the air.

And when the girl has gone swimming naked in the ocean and is suddenly and viciously jerked in the water by an unseen force, Beth somehow manages to get even closer and she turns her head, burying her face in his shirt. And Daryl tightens his arm around her shoulders and holds onto her, silently letting her know that he doesn't plan on letting go.


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