Title: Valentine's Cards and Yellow Daisies
Word Count: 2341
Universe: Prison-verse.
Rating: General
Brief Summary: Beth notices that Daryl always disappears when they celebrate holidays, and she decides to do something about it.
Notes: Wrote this for Valentine's Day, it's set at the prison, in a non-specific time otherwise.


There were few things that people in the prison could be certain of; from everyone knowing most of your business, to almost always being over-heard, or the fact that Judith would inevitably cry when you were especially tired. Another of these known quantities was that if the prison was celebrating a holiday, Daryl Dixon would be in a shitty mood. They all knew it and had since the first one. Ever since they'd gotten to the prison and starting tracking the dates again, they'd started celebrating the holidays. At first it took some nudging, but people got more and more into it with each one they did. It should have been a relic of the past- in some ways, it was- and yet they needed it. It made them remember what it was like before, when the world was so comparatively simple that things like this could be celebrated. It made them remember family, and love.

And Daryl Dixon hated it. Apparently, anyway. Everyone knew it, everyone remarked on it and yet, as Beth noticed... no one bothered to ask him why. They saw him slink away, they noted how he hid in his cell or went hunting for the whole day, they joked about it to themselves as if it were something to be joked about and not something worrisome. As if it were just another silly Daryl Dixon thing. But no one asked him why. No one went after him, no one even seemed to wonder if maybe he didn't want to be alone.

It made Beth's heart ache. Funny, she thought, to have your heart ache over a man like that. A man who was gruff and dirty, rough and tumble; a man who would grunt at you most days rather than use words. But he was more than that, she knew that top. She saw the care he had for others, hiding just under the surface. She noticed how he always came back with the things Judith needed, even if he had to hurt himself getting it- and he had, a few times. She noticed how even if he raised an eyebrow at your request, he'd fight to find you what you needed. He'd never scoff. He'd never laugh you off. (Which was why these days, despite her sister and brother-in-law both being on run teams, Beth always asked Daryl for the little things she needed. She had two gnomes and a white blanket in her cell that were her favorite possessions, and all three came from him.)

He was a good man. A good brother, to so many in the prison. A hero even, to the people of Woodbury and the others he'd brought in; especially the younger ones.

And yet still no one bothered to be sure he was okay or to find out why he hated holidays so much, or to make sure he didn't have to spend them alone.

When Valentine's Day came around, the prison was filled with even more chatter. Walking the cell blocks, Beth had to dodge kissing and cuddling couples with a smile or a wrinkle of her nose depending on who it was. (Or, in Maggie and Glenn's case, a teasing 'get a cell!' called out as she slipped past them) On the last few runs, Beth had coaxed Daryl into getting construction paper when he could find it. For the kids, she'd said, which was true. A few of the adults had borrowed it, cutting out hearts and giving it to their loved ones. Once the kids had made their Valentines one day in the library with her and Carol, pretty much every room and cell in the prison was decorated with them. Except one.

There was nothing hanging on the walls of Daryl's cell when Beth came to a stop just outside the door. His cell was the most undecorated of any of them; nothing but his bed, and a table with his crossbow on it and his extra set of clothes folded in the corner with his bag. He was in the bed just then, stretched out on with his legs crossed at the ankle and his hands behind his head, staring up at the top bunk. A fringe of dark hair hung into his eyes and Beth quickly shoved away the unexpectedly image that came into her mind of her reaching out and brushing that hair back.

Instead she leaned lightly against the doorway, and gave him a soft little smile. "Hey." When he looked over at her and gave a grunt of acknowledgement, Beth shifted in place and then added softly, "I brought you something."

He raised an eyebrow but after a long moment he sat up slowly. Taking that as an invitation Beth stepped inside and pulled her hand from behind her back to stretch it out to him. Clutched gently in her finger was a heart cut out of red construction paper with a black border around it (a second heart, taped to the back). In the center, she'd written with a black marker in her loopy handwriting: Happy Valentine's Day, Daryl! ~Beth

At first he just peered down at the heart from a distance and furrowed his brow. "This from one of th' kids?"

"No." She took a step forward and tilted it up from him. "It's from me."

That seemed to catch him by surprise. His brows knit together and he leaned back to look up at her, perplexed and gruff, "You askin' me to be your Valentine, girl? Ain't I a bit old for you?"

"No." Beth suddenly blushed. "I mean no, I'm not asking, not no you're too- Oh lord." She took one more step and thrust it at him. "I just... I just wanted you to have something nice, that's all. I know you hate the holidays, and I know you never join any of us for them. I dunno why, but I'm not gonna pry if you don't wanna say. I just... I just noticed that no one ever asks you, or comes after you or anything and... and I just wanted you to have something. That's all. I just thought it would be nice. I know how it feels, you know, cause no one gave me any cards either, except the kids."

The longer he went without taking it, the more she rambled until finally (with an internal shout of be quiet, Beth Greene!) she cut herself off. The heart was still outstretched towards him and Beth held it there, looking into his eyes for a long moment before she sighed. "Here." She set it on the table next to his bed and took a step back, nervously combing her hand through her hair ponytail and twisting a few strands around her fingers..

"I'll just leave it. I'm sorry for bugging you. Just, umm... one more thing." Beth shifted on the balls of her feet. "Well you know, everyone is getting together to celebrate tonight and I think there's gonna be drinking and extra food or something? But I volunteered to watch Judy, you know, so everyone could have their fun, so... If you don't wanna go but you don't wanna just be alone, you could... you could come hang out with me and Judith, if you want." She ducked her head and shrugged. "That probably sounds boring. Sorry." Beth cleared her throat awkwardly, but as she turned and walked towards his cell door, she added over her shoulder, "Have a nice day, Daryl."

She had just reached the doorway when she heard Daryl roughly ask behind her, "You ain't got anyone t' give you a card?"

She paused in the opening and turned to look at him. The card still lay untouched on the table, but he was peering up at her with those sharp blue eyes. The focus made her shift in place again as if he had her pinned. "No. Not since Zach..." She shrugged. He knew what she meant. "I think the last time I had a Valentine was Jimmy. We were only friends, then, we weren't together yet." She smiled softly. "He tried to bring me my favorite flowers, but he got it wrong. Brought me white asters. They were pretty, though."

Again she turned to leave, only to hear him ask quietly, "What's your real favorite?"

Beth smiled, and gave him a little shrug. "Yellow daisies. It's my favorite color and they're just..."

"Simple."

"Yeah. Exactly. Simple, but pretty." With that, and the fact that he didn't seem to have anything else to say, Beth gave him a little wave and then slipped out the door.

Later that night, she and Judith were alone in her cell together. She had used the construction paper to cut out little figures and was sitting on the floor with Judith, trying to tell her a story with them. It wasn't going so well, mostly because Judith kept trying to grab them from her and crunch them in her tiny (but surprisingly strong) little hands.

"No, Judy! Don't crumple the dolly, sweet pea- Oh no you've ripped off Mr. Paper's arm, poor thing."

A laugh from the doorway made Beth jump, her head lifting sharply like a startled deer. When she focused finally, it was to spot Daryl of all people, leaning in the open doorway to her cell. The last person she'd thought to see there was him, his lean frame propped against the opening, clad in his usual torn jeans, long-sleeve shirt, and the leather vest he wore over it. Beth's eyes widened in surprise as she finally breathed out, "Hey..."

"Mr. Paper?" Daryl gave her a hint of a little smirk that unexpectedly had something fluttering in her belly for the briefest little moment.

"Well I was trying to think on the spot," Beth replied wryly. "Plus it's probably better than giving them real names, considering Judy is just gonna rip them all up."

"Needs someone to hold her, while you tell the story." Daryl nodded down at the little girl, who was struggling to reach for the armless paper doll again. "Keep her hands busy."

With a slow arch of one brow, Beth asked playfully, "You volunteering, Daryl Dixon?"

For a moment he hesitated, and she saw something unexpected shift across his face. Nervousness? Awkwardness? A tiny little hint of hope? Before she could pin it down it all fluttered away under that calm mask of his, but then he stepped forward into her cell and murmured lowly, "Got y' something." Before she could even ask what he was pulling his hand from behind his back and thrusting out a small little bouquet of yellow daisies. They were a bit ragged, the ends clearly sawed roughly with a knife and one of two petals bruised or dangling. But they were bright and cheery, even more so against his dirty hand, and in a way the sound of them was almost like... like a thunderclap of color in the darkness, maybe. Or an excited shout in the midst of dull silence. They were beautiful.

"Daryl! You went and got me daisies?"

The moment Beth asked the question in that breathless tone, she saw that awkwardness in him again. He thrust the daisies right at her as he scrubbed his hand through his hair and shifted awkwardly in place. "S'nothing, alright? Was out tryin' t' get something for their big dinner, an' I saw them, and I thought of- S'nothing. Just take 'em."

He said the last bit roughly, but Beth knew he wasn't angry. He was just uncomfortable; looking at him, she saw that clear as day. She remembered how he had been with her before, too, like that day in the cell when he'd come in to tell her about Zach. She'd hugged him and every inch of him had been tense until he'd lifted just one hand to cup her elbow. Daryl Dixon wasn't much for displays of affection or gratitude. He wasn't much for people at all. And that was fine, with her. Beth would never push him.

She took the daisies with a smile and buried her face in them for a long moment before she sighed. "I'm gonna go get a glass from the kitchen to put them in." She climbed to her feet and gave him a soft smile. "Will you watch Judy for me?"

Daryl hesitated, but only for a moment. "Sure. I'll watch Lil' Asskicker."

With a chuckle at the nickname, Beth moved to the doorway but stopped to watch Daryl drop down to the ground and scoop Judith up in her arms. He held her like a natural. Instantly the baby cooed and reached for his hair, tugging on it with a laugh that made Daryl smile wider than she'd seen him do in ages. It was that smile that had her venturing, "Maybe after you can stay a bit, and help me tell Judy the story of the paper family?"

"Mm." He shrugged. "Ain't got nothin' else t' do."

To anyone who didn't know him, it would have been bordering on rude. But to Beth it was his version of saying 'yes, I'd love that'. Or as close as she'd get from him, anyway. So when she left to go get that glass for the flowers, Beth couldn't help smiling to herself. For once, Daryl Dixon wasn't spending a holiday alone. He was spending it with her; and with Judy, of course. Even if he hated the holiday, at least he knew someone cared.

(Though on her way back from the kitchen, with her flowers in a cup full of water, Beth passed by Daryl's cell and when she glanced inside, she very nearly stumbled. There her red heart was, taped up to the wall beside his bed by what she could only assume was his own careful hand. And she couldn't help thinking... maybe Daryl Dixon didn't hate Valentine's Day quite so much, after all. Maybe he'd just never had anyone who wanted to share it with him.)