As with so many of the places that Beth had come to think of as home (or at least home-like), their time at the cabin didn't last. The night after Beth had given Daryl his first gifts from Santa, she had been awoken by his hand sliding over her mouth as he whispered her name in her ear: "Beth. Wake up." All it took was a soft 'stay quiet', and she was awake and wide-eyed, every inch of her tense. Two more seconds and she'd heard the sounds of voices out the front of the cabin ("Gotta be someone in there, see the smoke from the chimney?" "Shit, I hope at least one of 'ems a girl. Been too long since I saw anything better than your ugly muh."); ten more seconds after that and she had slipped her feet into her boots and was on her feet ready to run.
After everything Beth felt the cabin had given them, it almost hurt a little to not get to say a proper goodbye. Of course, a bit of emotional pain was always preferable to the possibility of whatever the men that had found their cabin might have been tempted to do to her, or to the pair of them. Still, it hurt that in the end, the only goodbye she'd managed to get was one brush of her fingers over the frame of the back door as they slipped out, bags and weapons in hand, and darted into the woods to leave the cabin behind.
They walked in silence the whole night, the reminder of the rough voices like hounds on their tails chasing them away, until the sun was just beginning to lighten the sky. Only then did Beth glance over at Daryl and sigh. "I thought maybe this time... I dunno. I thought maybe we would get to stay longer. That it would last."
"Ain't much that lasts anymore, these days."
A part of her knew he was right, but there was another part of her that still resisted; that would always resist that. "I don't think that's true. I think some things last. They're rare, but maybe that only makes them better."
When she glanced over at him, Daryl almost seemed to be considering her words. He didn't reply, but she hadn't expected him to. "Look," she said, pointing up ahead. "I think there's a farmhouse up there, through the woods. I can see a barn..."
He grunted, but she noticed the slight shift in direction that indicated he would head towards it. "Gotta be careful," he said, with a quick glance behind them, "Don't know who might be around."
"That's why I pointed it out," she said softly. "I was trying to think like you. I figured we might wanna hide away for a bit. At least for the day, in case they come looking." She looked up at the sky full of dark gray clouds. "It's gonna rain. Won't that wipe away our tracks?"
For just a second, she saw a little hint of a smile cross his lips. "Yeah. Good point."
A bit flushed with pride, Beth strode through the woods beside him until they rounded the edge of the farm. Here they turned cautious once more, Daryl with his bow raised and Beth with her knife clutched in her hand as they slowly came around the side of the barn to peer at the house.
"Windows broken. Doors open. Bet no one's hiding in there. Not alive, anyway" He looked down the length of the barn, studying it carefully. "But I'd go with this instead. Less place for walkers to hide, and if those people come looking..."
Beth narrowed her eyes, trying to think like him again."They'd figure we'd try the house, right?" She nodded, and then looked up. "Plus we could hide up high, if they came. Isn't that, like... More defend-able?"
Daryl chuckled, but gave her a little nod. "C'mon, Greene. Let's check out this defend-able barn."
The inside was pretty much what Beth would have expected. In fact it was almost eerily similar to her old barn back home; enough so that she got choked up a bit and came to a stop in the doorway, before Daryl gently nudged her from behind.
Though she wouldn't admit it, his presence reassured her, enough that she felt better moving with him through the open space, ignoring the familiar old scent of hay and animals as they cleared the entire barn.
No walkers in sight, but when Beth peeked into a little section at the back her eyes lit up at what she found. "Daryl!" She exclaimed, hurrying through the archway. "It's a sleigh!"
She had already hopped into the backseat, when he came to stand in the doorway. "Pretty sure that's a carriage."
"What?"
He leaned against the door frame and gestured with one hand. "S'got big wheels. Sleighs don't got wheels."
Beth peered over the edge at the big wheels with a 'huh', before settling back into the seat. "Well I don't care, I'm calling it a sleigh. Maybe it's Santa's sleigh, for when he has to go on the roads instead, hm?" She looked over at him with a shy smile, a warmth entering her gaze with the memory of yesterday morning and the stocking she'd left him. She still had Christmas on the brain, and with the loss of the cabin fresh in her mind, she was gonna cling to that.
Daryl didn't say anything, but he didn't draw away, either. Eventually he came up alongside the sleigh and peered in curiously, silent for a few moments before he murmured gruffly, "You got a big imagination, Greene." He grunted. "But I guess it ain't a bad place to sleep."
With that, he hopped into the seat in front of her, and bent over to rummage around. When he came back up, he had a thick blanket in hand that he handed back to her over the seat. "Here. Finish the rest you were gettin', before we were interrupted."
Though she took the blanket from him and even settled it on her lap, Beth didn't really feel sleepy. Instead, as she laid back in the seat and used her bag as a pillow, Beth mused, "My Mama always used to say I had a big imagination, you know. Like... I went all out with Santa."
As she always did when she started a story, Beth paused to make sure he didn't want her to stop. It was easy to tell, nowadays. A sigh or a groan meant he wasn't in the mood, but an 'mm' like the one he gave her right now meant he didn't mind if she kept going. With a faint smile, Beth went on, "Once I was old enough, I insisted on baking cookies for Santa myself. Always sugar, with red and green sprinkles, because I'd decided that was his favorite. And I got it into my head that he only liked fresh milk, so I'd milk it myself from one of our dairy cows and put it in a special glass for him. And I always laid it out on the coffee table by the tree, on a special red and green plate we used for Christmas."
If she closed her eyes, Beth could see it all in her mind. The sparkling Christmas lights, glinting on the ornaments that had been collected for generations or made by hand by Maggie, Shawn, and Beth every year prior. She could see the hand-made popcorn garlands, the stockings hanging on the mantle, the perfectly arranged plate of (slightly lopsided) cookies, the glass of milk.
It only hurt a little, to remember that perfection and know she'd never see it again.
"One year I was determined to stay up and see him," Beth went on, her voice softer and a bit sadder, though she tried to push past it. "I hid on the stairs and tried to stay up all night. I thought I was so clever, but I ended up falling asleep for what I swear was just like ten minutes. I woke up to my mom carrying me up the stairs, but I was convinced for years after that when I peered over her shoulder, I saw Santa crouched down by the tree, setting up the presents. I told everyone that story, a hundred times over."
She drew in a deep breath and exhaled. "It wasn't till I was older that I figured out it must have been Daddy. Can't blame me for thinking it was Santa, though... Daddy had white hair even then, and he must have been wearing a red sweater, or something" Beth pressed her eyes shut. "I believed for years after that, you know? And he never once told me that it was him. Not even after I stopped believing in Santa. He always just let me keep that one tiny little moment."
Suddenly her eyes were burning and she broke off to press her hand across her face. Beth bit down on her lip, but she didn't cry. She never cried anymore... No, that wasn't true. She'd cried watching her Daddy die. She'd cried and cried and screamed for him, but it hadn't brought him back. The man who had let her believe in Santa was gone, forever. Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.
Beth wasn't even aware her shaking was noticeable, until she felt Daryl suddenly lifting her up off the seat. "C'mon," he said, his voice rough but in a different way than usual, as if it were masking something she couldn't pinpoint. He had her sitting up as he slid in next to her on the seat and then, to her surprise, guided her back down so she was resting with her head in his lap. Just the sight of him above her was enough to shock her out of trembling and shaking so that instead she was blinking up at him with wide, bright eyes.
"Don't you know there ain't no cryin' in Santa's sleigh?" Daryl looked down at her and raised an eyebrow until she felt a tremulous smile cross her lips. "Better," he said roughly.
He reached down and picked up the blanket that had slipped off her, his hands unexpectedly gentle as he settled it back across her lower body. "Now c'mon. You've been up and movin' all night, y'need to get some rest."
She was just too drained to protest anymore, so with one little shuddering sigh Beth let her eyes flutter shut. But as the warmth of his lap lulled her gently to sleep, Beth could swear that she felt his fingers brush lightly over her hair for just a second.
It was enough to put the faintest smile on her lips before sleep claimed her.
