A/N: This chapter earns the story's "Mature (M)" rating, if you know what I mean. Wink wink.
Beth hadn't been even a little scared earlier when that walker had grabbed her ankle. She'd known immediately that she could handle it, and she had.
But there was something about seeing that teenaged girl at the end of the alley screaming in panic as two walkers advanced on her that made her stomach clench in fear on the girl's behalf. Perhaps because it was easy to remember a time when she'd been that girl, unarmed and scared and cornered, hoping desperately that someone would come save her and fearing that if it came down to it, she wouldn't be able to save herself.
Luckily for her, the cavalry had arrived.
To her left, Daryl lifted his crossbow and sighted down it as Beth mirrored his movement. "Hey!" Daryl called out in a sharp, gruff voice that immediately caught the walkers attention. "Look over here, you ugly fuckers."
She would have laughed at that if she wasn't too busy focusing on lining up the shot. Without looking she knew Daryl would aim from the one on his left, so she took aim at the one on the right, watching as it turned in slow motion to fix its milky dead eyes on her. As always when she used her crossbow, she heard Daryl's voice in her head, guiding her as he had when he'd first taught her to use his bow.
Inhale, find the shot, line it up just right, take a moment and then, on the exhale, in between heart beats… Beth fired the shot, sending the bolt clean through the walker's eye and into its head. Her shot came just as second after Daryl's, both their targets collapsing to the ground almost in unison in a tangle of rotted limbs.
"Nice shot, girl," Daryl glanced at her from under his dark fringe of hair and flashed her a hint of a smirk.
"You too," she murmured back, a smile tugging briefly at the corners of her lips. But there were more important things to focus on; like the girl who stood at the end of the alley now, her back to the fence. She was almost rail thin, skinny in a way Beth remembered the others in their group being in the past year, before they'd gotten to Haven. She wore a pair of torn and ragged blue jeans and a dark blue t-shirt that looked several sizes too big. Her brown hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, and her eyes were wide and panicked in her pale, gaunt face.
"Hey there, it's alright, we got them," Daryl called out, gaze flicking from the girl to the walkers and back again. "You can come out now. It's safe."
But the girl didn't move. If anything she just pressed herself back even more against the chain link fence, until it bowed backwards slightly under the pressure from her back.
"I promise, it's safe." Daryl took a step forward, and the girl flinched. Slowly, like he was approaching a skittish horse, he lowered his crossbow down and raised the other hand, palm out towards her. "I promise, ain't no one out here but us, and we won't hurt you. We just wanna make sure you're okay."
He took another step forward and the girl began to shiver, turning her face away in fear. Beth could see tension in every line of her body and felt a sudden sliver of familiarity at the way the girl was reacting. The way she tensed, the way she curved her body away from them, from Daryl… As if she were afraid of him—or perhaps, of men in general.
"Daryl…" Beth spoke softly, reaching out with one hand to stop him from going any further. "Maybe you should let me try?" She didn't mention her theory, not wanting Daryl to think she was implying the girl was scared of him and not just men in general. At his nod, she turned back towards the girl, about to make her own attempt to coax her out.
But before she could, Carol nudged her way between them, one hand outstretched to hold Beth back. "Let me, please. Let me talk to her."
Beth hesitated a moment, glancing briefly at Daryl to see what he thought. When he inclined his head towards her, she gave a tiny nod and stepped back, letting Carol take the lead.
"Hello, sweetheart." Carol spoke gently; so gently, in a tone Beth hadn't heard from her in a long time. "My name is Carol. I know you're scared, it's okay. I understand. We all understand. There's a lot of scary things, a lot of scary people these days. But I promise, you don't have to be scared of us, okay?"
The girl turned towards Carol, not pushing off the fence yet, but looking at least a little less afraid. Her shivers calmed, at least, and her eyes were slightly less wide as she watched Carol, who asked softly, "Can I come towards you?"
After a long pause, the girl gave a tiny nod. Carol kept her movements careful and slow, taking measured steps down the alley and around the fallen walkers, pausing over them a few seconds to make sure they were dead before continuing on towards the girl.
By the time Carol reached her, she had drawn forward just slightly from the fence, her hands clasped in front of her and her posture still tense, but slightly less nervous than before.
"There you are," Carol said warmly as she stopped just a foot from the girl. "Are you alright? Are you injured?"
The girl darted a nervous glance over her shoulder and through the chain-link fence, but Beth could see nothing beyond it, despite a good hard look. When she turned back to Carol, she gave a slight shake of her head.
"That's good. How about you come with me, then? I promise the others aren't going to hurt you." Another quick darted glance and then the girl gave a nod. Her hands twined in front of her, curling in her shirt as she mutely let Carol lead her out of the alley and towards the rest of the group.
Conscious of the girl's anxiety, and well aware of what it felt like to be surrounded by strangers, Beth and Daryl took a few steps back with the rest of the group, making sure to keep a slight distance.
"Wonderful. Now like I said, I'm Carol." Carol gave the girl a reassuring smile, and then gestured to the rest of the group. "That's Tyrese there with Sasha, they're siblings. The one with the sheriff's hat that you saw with me earlier is Carl—" Carl tipped his hat to the girl, a gesture which had Beth biting back a giggle she knew he wouldn't appreciate. Instead she gave a sidelong glance to Daryl, spotting a hint of a smirk on his lips that assured her she wasn't the only one amused.
In front of her the woman carried on, introducing Glenn and Rosita as well, before finishing, "And this is Daryl and Beth, the ones who shot the walkers down for you."
"It's nice to meet you," Beth said softly, with a warm smile she hoped the girl would find encouraging. "What's your name, sweetheart?"
The girl seemed hesitant, nervous still. Her hands never stopped moving, twisting knots in the hem of her t-shirt, and she kept looking all around them and over her shoulder, though Beth couldn't tell if she was looking for something or someone, or just keeping an eye on her surroundings out of fear. She opened her mouth as if to reply and then hesitated, casting an unsure glance over at Carol.
"You can say it very quietly to me, if you'd prefer, and I can tell the others." Carol bent slowly down towards her, turning her head to offer up her ear to the girl, who hesitated only a few seconds before leaning forward to presumably whisper her name.
"Enid?" Carol stood back up straight, a smile on her lips. "That's a beautiful name. Well, it's nice to meet you, Enid. Why don't you sit here on the curb for a minute, hm? And have a sip of some water, while we talk?"
Enid sat down without protest, even giving a tiny smile when Carol offered her a water bottle to sip at. But Beth couldn't help noticing the way she continued to nervously look around, the way she was always checking over her shoulder and scanning the nearby houses as if looking for something in particular.
"She seems very jumpy," Beth ventured as the group gathered a short distance away; close enough to keep an eye on her, but far enough so their whispers wouldn't be overheard.
"She's scared," Carol said quickly. "Who wouldn't be at her age, all alone. I can't imagine…"
But Beth suspected Carol could imagine, and she probably had, all the times she'd thought about what had happened to Sophia back then, before they'd found out the horrible truth.
"We should bring her back with us to Haven." It was Carl who made the suggestion, not Carol, though the older woman was quick to agree.
"I think so, too. I know we haven't talked too much about bringing in new people, but surely no one will mind. She's so young. She won't take up much space." Before anyone could argue (or even think about arguing), Carol quickly added, "I'll stay with her in the RV, if we need to. That way we don't need to worry about her coming into the cabins. I'll even stay with her in it outside the fence the first night, if we have to…"
"Carol, no one is gonna make y'all stay outside th' fence," Daryl said firmly. "We'll bring her back with us, see what Rick thinks."
"He'll probably want to ask her those questions," Beth added with a slight smile, thinking of the questions Rick had asked everyone since the Prison. "But I'm sure she'll answer just fine."
Tyrese took a step forward and cut in, "If it's decided, do you think we have time to grab a few more things before we go? Sasha and I still had one or two things we wanted to grab at the garden center…"
"Yeah, and Glenn and I weren't finished either," Rosita added.
"Carol, how 'bout you bring Carl an' Enid back t' the motorhome?" Daryl glanced at the others who nodded. "We'll all go back t' our spots, pick up th' last few things, an' meet back by the cars in ten, fifteen minutes. I wanna get back before sundown, so we should get goin' soon."
Twenty minutes later, Beth and Daryl sat side-by-side in the truck again, this time bringing up the end of the convoy. Glenn and Rosita lead the way in their car, with Tyrese and Sasha's van behind them, followed by Carol driving Carl and Enid in the motorhome. Thankfully, it had at least enough gas to make the short drive.
Beth was tucked under Daryl's arm once more, the canvas bag full of medical supplies sitting beside her on the seat. It was filled to the brim now with prescriptions from the pharmacy, as well as bandages, antibiotic cream, and other first aid supplies they'd grabbed in their last run-through of the pharmacy. But the greatest prize of all, at least to her, was the single can of formula they'd found, now hidden beneath the rest at the very bottom of the bag.
Unlike the trip there, her mind wasn't caught on thoughts of Maggie's pregnancy on the way back. No, instead, it was Enid she couldn't stop thinking about. Luckily for her, one of the best parts of her partnership with Daryl was that she always had someone to share those thoughts with.
Glancing up at him now, she asked carefully, "So what did you think about Enid?"
Of course, he could easily see through the casual tone she'd affected. "Why? Somethin' about her botherin' you?" When Beth only hummed in response, Daryl took a moment to think about it. His eyes stayed mostly on the road ahead of them, one hand resting on the steering wheel and the other slung over Beth. His fingers absent-mindedly stroked her shoulder as he thought, and she could see his brow faintly furrowing under his dark fringe of hair. Looking at it now, she thought absent-mindedly, it might even be long enough for a french braid. Not that she could ever see Daryl braiding his hair like that. The idea almost made her laugh.
"Well, she was real quiet, though I reckon that isn't much of a surprise. Must've been hard, meeting a big group of strangers."
"Mmm," Beth hummed again in agreement. "She seemed nervous, and I don't blame her for that. Actually she… she reminded me of myself, a bit." She paused, and then gave him a sidelong glance. "The way I was after the hospital. When I didn't want anyone near me."
"Except for me."
"Except for you, of course." Beth matched his smile with one of her own and leaned into him a little bit more. "She just seemed very… twitchy. And did you notice the way she kept…"
"Looking over her shoulder?"
"Yeah. Looking around everywhere, really. Like she was looking for something."
"Or someone," Daryl mused, his thoughts following the same path as hers.
"Right. But was it because she was afraid of seeing someone, like a walker, or…"
"Someone specific?" Daryl tore his eyes away from the road at that, a worried look on his face. "You think she might have been?"
"I don't know." Beth sighed then, feeling a bit frustrated. "I have this… this weird feeling. Not an alarm bell, you know, not that bad. Just this… this annoying little worry, you know? This feeling that something is not quite right, only I can't put my finger on it."
"Yeah." His reply was short as he turned his attention back to the RV and road ahead of them, but the way he squeezed her shoulder made it clear he wasn't invalidating her worry at all. Then again, he never did. He always trusted and believed her; hell, he was the one that had helped her become so attuned to that instinct to begin with. "Well, ain't nothin' we can do 'bout it now. Rick'll ask her the questions an' make his decision. And if he lets her in—"
"—Which I'm sure he will," Beth cut in, "-especially if Carol has anything to say about it."
"Yeah. So if he lets her in, we'll just keep an eye on her. See if we can figure anythin' out, or if she opens up t' someone. Carol, maybe."
"Or Carl. They're about the same age." That was a thought to put a smile on Beth's lips, albeit a faint one. "You know, I hope she doesn't turn out to be a problem. Carl could use someone his own age to hang out with. I feel bad for him sometimes, stuck with a big bunch of adults."
"Yeah, cause you're just so ancient compared to him," Daryl teased her affectionately.
"Oh shush, Daryl Dixon, you know what I mean." Beth nuzzled into him, giggling a little as she did and feeling oddly relieved that she was able to laugh, able to find these moments, despite everything. That was what she wanted for Carl, really. She sighed at the thought. Sensing Daryl's curiosity beside her, without him needing to say a word, Beth ventured, "I had to grow up so quickly after the outbreak, you know? I was still a teenager. I never finished high school, never went to prom. I lost all my friends."
Beside her, Daryl made a low, gruff noise in the back of his throat, the sound he made when he didn't quite know what to say but wanted to give support. "No, it's alright. I've come to terms with it, I really have. What I meant to say was…. Carl went through the same thing, but he's even younger than me. He's still young, he's only fourteen now. There's still a chance for him to… to find some sense of normalcy, if we do things right. If we manage to make Haven what we want it to be." She looked up at Daryl then, studying his profile as he kept his eyes on the road. "He can still get a chance to… to be rebellious, to have fun, to make a friend, or even a girlfriend." She chucked. "Or a boyfriend, I don't know."
Daryl's lips curved into a smirk. The sight of it struck her with the urge to kiss the corner of it, but she resisted, if barely. Instead she merely smiled back up at him, and said in a soft, near-whisper, "I found my sense of normalcy with you. I found happiness with you. And a lot of other things."
"Oh yeah?" His eyebrow arched, his dark blue eyes finding hers under his hair before he glanced back at the road. A brief glance, but just long enough for Beth to see that the love and affection and desire she felt for him right now was mirrored in his gaze, too.
"Yeah. I just want everyone else to have that. Not necessarily a partnership, I mean, I don't need to pair everyone off…" Though she had certainly been happy to see Michonne and Rick's relationship change, and had definitely encouraged Hank to pursue his interest in Noah's mom, Alberta. And she was constantly wondering what was up with Tara and Rosita these days. "But him having a friend his age, that would be nice. That's all."
"Yeah, that's my girl." Daryl's smirk widened into a smile. "Always tryin' to make sure everyone is happy and taken care of." He glanced at her again and his smile softened as his voice grew more serious. "That's one of my favorite things about you, Greene. You didn't just change my mind, make me realize there's good in the world. You want t' do that for everyone." He turned back to the road again, studying the RV ahead of them. Though they could see nothing through the small back windows, Beth knew he was thinking of Carl and Enid and likely even Carol, when he said, "If I can help you do that, then I'll be happy too."
Daryl and Beth stood beside the new motorhome, currently parked outside Haven's large gate. It was made of the same logs as the rest of the palisade, but held together by old iron hinges that Daryl and Beth had found on a scouting trip. The gate was barred closed on the inside by two heavy wooden bars which were slotted into wooden braces by whoever was on guard duty. They had parked the other vehicles inside the gate, and while Carl had run to get his dad, and Sasha, Tyrese, Glenn, and Rosita helped the others to unpack the supplies they'd gathered, Beth and Daryl had come out here to wait with Carol.
Now the gates opened again to reveal Rick and Michonne, with Carl leading the way eagerly just a few steps in front of them. He stopped a foot away from the RV, where Enid sat on the steps that extended down from the door, her arms wrapped around her knees and Carol crouched just beside her. "Here she is, Dad. This is Enid."
Michonne hung slightly back as they reached the RV, Rick stretching out a hand towards the girl as he said, "It's nice to meet you, Enid. My name is Rick, and this is Michonne…"
Enid looked up at him, hazel eyes wide in her face and lips pressed shut in silence. She didn't move to shake his hand, and after a moment Carol wrapped one arm over her shoulder and gave a brief squeeze. Looking up at Rick, she said apologetically, "She's a bit nervous about meeting new people, I think." Out of Enid's line of sight, she mouthed: Especially men.
Rick nodded and drew his hand back. "That's alright, Enid, I understand. We have a few people here who feel similarly." Beth found herself biting back a smile at that, mostly because she knew that was especially true of her, but he was right, she wasn't the only one. Ivy, one of the women they'd rescued from the hospital, had similar feelings. And Rosita had been a bit more touch-avoidant since Abraham's death seven months ago at the hands of the Hunters.
Perhaps to make the girl more comfortable, Rick dropped to a crouch in front of her, keeping his distance at just a few feet away. "Now, I understand you'd like to come stay with us, is that right?" Enid gave a hesitant nod. "That's fine with me, but first, I have a few questions I like to ask anyone that wants to join us. Just three questions. You can shake your head or nod for the first two, that's fine, but the third might require you to answer out loud. Is that alright?"
Enid glanced over her shoulder at Carol, presumably seeking reassurance. When the woman gave her a small smile back and squeezed her arm once more, Enid turned her gaze back to Rick and gave him a tense nod.
"Perfect. Alright, then, we can get this over with and maybe get you somethin' to eat, alright?" His hands dangled between his knees as he remained in the crouch, his eyes focused firmly on her. "How many walkers have you killed before, Enid?"
Without hesitating, she held up a hand and showed him three fingers. Rick gave her a soft smile. "That's good." They wouldn't necessarily turn away someone who hadn't, but two years in, it was rare and somewhat worrisome to find someone who'd never killed at least one walker. It meant they might not be able to defend themselves, and that the group might have to spend resources protecting them. Even more, it meant the person might have been sheltered somehow, unfamiliar with the amount of work it took these days to survive. But Beth had a feeling Enid was well aware of just what it took to get by in the world the way it was now.
Rick paused, and then carefully asked the second question. "How many people have you killed, Enid?"
This was always a more loaded question. The answer given, especially in conjunction with the next question, told them a lot about what kind of person someone was. If they were safe, if they had morals, even with the world the way that it was. It was a tough question though, and she knew people were inclined to lie about it. Often you could tell they were thinking about lying, from the way their eyes darted around; they'd meet some point over Rick's shoulder when answering, rather than holding his gaze.
Enid seemed hesitant, but not for that reason. It was nervousness again, Beth suspected, judging by the way she sought out reassurance from Carol behind her. "It's alright," Carol murmured, squeezing Enid's shoulders again. "You can tell him the truth. It's important. And we won't judge you for it."
Her gaze shifted back to Rick's, but this time she held it as she lifted her hand and raised a single finger. One.
Rick's gaze was even more intent, his focus absolute as he watched the girl, studying her face and the way she reacted to the question. "Why?"
This was always the hardest question for people to answer, and Beth didn't blame them. She would struggle to answer it herself, to account for the deaths she had caused. Not because she felt that she had done the wrong thing, but often it was… so personal. Her mind briefly conjured memories of Gorman, sending a hint of a shiver down her spine. Her gaze shifted to Carl, who was watching Enid with a look of understanding in his eyes that made her gut clench. She hadn't forgotten what he'd confessed to her all those months ago about what had happened to him, what Rick had needed to do to prevent something worse.
Sensing the slight shift in her emotions, Daryl's hand shifted to rest at Beth's back. The moment she felt it press against her through her shirt she sighed, a hint of tension easing from her shoulders and back in response as the memories faded.
Enid shifted under Rick's gaze, and she recognized the shame the girl felt. No matter what she thought of Enid, how unsure she was of her, she couldn't deny the sympathy she felt at seeing the girl having to lay a part of her open and bare. When Enid finally spoke her voice was breathy, almost a whisper, just audible enough to those around her. "I had to kill him, to… to protect myself. To protect…" Her gaze darted slightly to the side but then back to Rick. "To protect a friend. He was going to… to hurt us."
"That's alright, Enid. I understand. You don't have to say any more." Rick gave her a small, reassuring smile as he rose to his feet. To Carol, he added, "Why don't you bring her and the RV in. Tyrese said she can stay in the cabin with you tonight, and tomorrow we can clean the RV out together, so you're not sleeping in a bunch of dust, alright?" Enid's head had dropped down at his words, and she gave a little gasp of what Beth thought was relief. Seeing it, Rick added, "The tour of Haven can wait, if you want, Carol. Whenever she's ready."
He turned and joined with Michonne, the two of them heading back into Haven with only a brief glance over their shoulders at Carl, who lingered hesitantly and hopefully a few feet from the RV.
"Carl, why don't you and Enid go inside and we'll drive the RV inside, hm?" Carol rose to her feet, leaving the two teens to enter the motorhome one after the other. Her arms wrapped around herself in a slight hug as she gave Beth and Daryl a soft smile. "Well, that went as well as I could expect. I'm glad. I think it'll be good for her here. Don't you think?"
"I do," Beth said warmly, pushing aside her own whispered worries in the face of Carol's obvious hopefulness. How could she do anything else, when it had been so long since any of them had seen Carol look like that before, like she was looking forward to something ahead?
Beside her Daryl gave a grunt in agreement, but just as Carol started to turn back towards the motorhome he reached out to stop her with one hand. "Hey, just a minute. Been meanin' to ask you, before I forget. Right before we found Enid, before she screamed, you were 'bout to say something. It's been botherin' me a bit. Probably nothin', but I was just wonderin' what you'd been about to say. Somethin' 'bout how she looked like she…"
For a moment Carol looked perplexed, and then recognition dawned. "Oh. When she climbed through the window and ran? I was going to say she almost looked like she wanted us to follow her." Carol's gaze drifted to the door of the RV, where they could just see the silhouette of Enid sitting at the kitchen table, Carl a short distance away. "But of course she would, right? If she were scared? She'd want us to rescue her."
But then why had she run to begin with? If she'd wanted them to find her, why had she taken off, unless she'd wanted them to chase her. It made no sense, butBeth bit her tongue to stop herself from speaking it out loud. Her gaze met Daryl's though, and shared understanding flashed between them for a second before Beth smiled at Carol. "Of course she would."
As Carol waved goodbye and headed to the RV, Beth slipped her arm into Daryl's and gently tugged him away, wanting to give Carol and Enid space so the girl could feel comfortable coming into their little home.
Besides, they had their own home to get to, and as always after a hunting trip, she found herself longing for it. To slip inside and close the door, just her and Daryl in their own private space, no one asking them questions or hovering around them. A place where they could talk in privacy, just the two of them, knowing they'd both be understood. It was also a chance to be happy that they were alive. "C'mon Dixon," she teased, glancing up at him as they walked through the gates, "Let's go home."
There was an implicit playfulness in that remark that had Daryl straightening up a bit, his blue eyes darkening as he looked down at her. Because they had a particular routine most times when they came home from a trip, especially one like this, full of adrenaline and excitement. The moment they got within a certain distance of their door they seemed to get filled with this restless energy, this sudden rush of adrenaline and relief; at being home, at surviving, at being alive… specifically together.
And it almost always ended with the two of them entwined on the bed, celebrating the fact that they were still living. (Most times, it was the bed. Once it had been the table and once the rug in front of their little stove, a memory Beth thought of just about every time she swept the floor in that spot, and knew he did too.)
He was thinking of it or a similar memory now, judging by the heat in his eyes as he looked down at her. And all she could do was flash him a grin and giggle as she teased, "Race you home, Dixon?"
"You're on, Greene."
In the end she couldn't remember who actually won the race. All she knew was that they went through the door together, a tangle of limbs and hands. Daryl managed to shut and lock the door just as they entered. She only knew it was him because he used her to close it; lifting her up and pressing her back hard against the door. Her legs wrapped around him, one hand holding her hip and the other reaching down to fumble with the lock. The moment it clicked his other hand was back on her hip, holding tightly onto her as their lips met in a frantic, hungry kiss.
His hands slipped under her shirt to graze her warm bare skin and Beth moaned into his mouth. His touch reminded her that she was alive, they were alive, and she hungered for more, her back arching against the door to press herself further against him. She reached around his back, pulling his shirt up so that she could run her hands over his bare skin in return. Her hands brushed up his back, feeling the muscles bunching beneath her palms, her fingertips tracing the lines of his scars.
She knew those lines so well by now, every single one of them, part of the map that made him Daryl; a map that she had memorized every inch of.
Somehow they moved across the cabin floor, shedding clothes as they went; his vest tossed over a kitchen chair, her shirt discarded on the floor with his falling beside it. He picked her up again as they reached the stairs, both of them topless—her bra ended up hooked over the stair railing—and carried her bodily up the stairs one at a time, moving slowly not because of the strain because they kept stopping to kiss one another.
She had enough time to nibble his lower lip and swipe her tongue across the same spot, pulling a low groan out of him just before he dropped her onto their bed. "Little minx," he growled, looking down at her dark eyes from the end of the bed as she stretched beneath him, wearing nothing but her jeans and a cheeky little grin.
"We still have too many clothes on," she teased, running her bare toes up his jean-clad leg with a mischievous smirk.
"Not for long," he growled the words back as he leaned over her, hands finding the waistband of her jeans and her panties and pulling both off her in one fell swoop. She giggled in delight and sat up, reaching for his waistband with eager fingers to undo his belt and slide it free at a torturously slow pace.
"Are you trying to kill me, Beth?" Beth. She loved when he called her Greene but god, did she love when he said her name, especially like that, all… low and grumbly and deep.
"Maaaybe," she teased back, fingers toying with the button on his jeans but not quite undoing it yet.
Daryl growled again, the sound rumbling low in his chest as he impatiently nudged her hands away and undid his own pants far quicker than she had planned on doing. Soon he was just as naked as she was and she took a moment to drink in the sight of him; her Daryl, her partner, (her soul mate), all muscles and warm skin and scars and beauty, hard as could be with desire for her.
One moment he was standing above her, eyes raking over her naked form, and the next he was on top of her, hands on either side of her body, guiding her back down onto the bed as he covered her with his larger frame. Everything was a blur again, then; skin against skin, lips and teeth and tongue teasing and stroking each other, her hands on his back and running down. Her legs parted, both coming up to wrap around him and urge him closer, as close as he could possibly get, the closest two people could ever be.
When he slid into her, thick and hard, the world froze, as it always seemed to do. Everything around them went still for Beth; there was nothing but the two of them, the love and desire between them, and the ultimate sense of connection that came from being joined both physically and emotionally.
"Daryl," she whispered, hot and lovingly at the same time, her fingers stroking lightly over his cheek as she looked deep into his eyes. Her hips squirmed, aching for him to move, to thrust deeper, to fill her even more.
But he stayed still for a moment longer, one hand coming up as well to trace over her cheek and tuck a bit of hair behind her ears. He leaned down, holding her gaze until they were a mere inch or so apart, and whispered into that intimate closeness, "Love you, baby girl."
She smiled, radiant with love and flushed with arousal, and whispered back, "Love you too, Daryl. Always."
And it was (almost) as good as the way she felt minutes later, her legs wrapped tightly around him and holding him deep inside of her, both moaning into each other's mouths, the other's name on their lips as they climaxed.
A few moments later as they lay there, wrapped within each other, the cool air from the cracked window nearby skating over their sweaty skin, Beth teased, "We really should go on hunting trips more often."
She felt the vibration of his laugh rumbling through his chest, and all she felt was love and happiness and safety… and home. This, with him, was the home she wanted to come back to every time.
Beth and Daryl had kept their concerns about Enid to themselves for now, but that didn't mean they hadn't kept their eyes on her. Over the past few days since she'd arrived in Haven, they'd watched her from afar. Mostly she stuck like glue to Carol's side. The first night she'd slept on the couch in the cabin Carol shared with Tyrese and Sasha, but the following day she'd helped Carol (and Carl, who had been alternating between following Enid around a bit like a lost puppy, and trying to give her space) clean out the motorhome so they could move into it. Apparently it had a bed over the cab, and the kitchenette table folded down into another bed, so there was room for them both to sleep.
They'd also seen her walking through Haven a few times, getting a tour of all the cabins, the garden, the rabbit hut. She hadn't come to dinner with them at Alberta's, but Carol had stopped by to grab her a plate, and Beth and Daryl had seen her eating it outside with Carol, sitting on the steps of the RV again. There was something odd about the girl, but it was impossible to say if it was something suspicious, or just trauma.
She was always watching everyone, always studying her surroundings or the people nearby; but Beth was well aware that was a trauma response because she had been just like that once and still was, albeit with a less panicked edge to it. She still barely spoke to anyone but Carol, though she'd seen her say one or two off-handed words towards Carl. And once, she and Daryl had caught her wandering around alone; the moment they'd spotted her, she'd scuttled back to the motorhome like a scared rabbit.
What stuck with Beth the most was the way she was still always looking over her shoulder; specifically, over the fence to the tops of the forest, as if she expected to see something (or someone) within it.
Put together, it didn't paint much of a picture. At least, not one that couldn't fit half the survivors these days; petrified of being cornered and caught, always looking over their shoulder, always afraid someone might do something to them.
But the doubt lingered. To distract herself from it, Beth busied herself around the cabin, organizing their new supplies and trying to do research on Maggie's behalf. That afternoon found her kneeling on the floor in the left corner of the cabin under the loft, where a bookshelf was set into the wall. It had been half-filled with photos and decor when they'd first moved in; most of those had been moved around now, the fiction books condensed on the top shelves and the bottom shelves filled with medical and survival books that Beth and Daryl and the others had found on their trips.
She had a couple books open on the floor around her, one of them cracked open in her lap with her notebook resting on top of it as she scribbled down things she wanted to learn more about, or items they might need.
The front door creaked, distracting her from her perusal, and she looked up to see Daryl coming into the room with a plate in his hand. "Y' need t' eat," he drawled, his voice grumbling with discontent. "Been staring at them books for so long, y' missed lunch. Here. Alberta made this bean salad, it ain't bad."
Her stomach gave a rumble at the mention of salad, coaxing a laugh out of her in turn. "I guess I am hungry, apparently." She grabbed her notebook off the open pages before shutting the book and sliding it off her lap to the ground . With the journal clutched in one hand she rose to her feet, reaching for the plate with the other. But Daryl shook his head and moved towards the table instead. He set the plate at her usual spot, sat down in the chair next to it, and used his boot to push her chair out with a pointed expression.
"Okay, okay, I get it!" Beth crossed the room to the table and took a seat, dropping the notebook down in front of him with a sigh. "I was just trying to make a list of things we might need for Maggie."
Arms crossed over his chest, Daryl waited until she picked up her fork and began to eat. When she arched an eyebrow at him in silent question—happy?—he grunted agreement and only then leaned forward to look at what she'd written down.
"You've got 'more books' listed on here like four times." He looked up at her, a hint of a smile tugging at one corner of his lips. "And try as I might, I don't reckon I can get y' a whole hospital, Greene."
"Well, it was worth a try." Beth's rueful smile lingered a moment before she sighed and forced herself to focus on eating instead, shoveling spoonfuls of beans slowly into her mouth and ignoring the part of her that wished it was french fries instead. God she could go for some french fries. Better not to think too much about that, though. "I know we can't get a hospital, but I wish our cabin had like, another room or something sometimes. Not for someone to stay here, but to make a little hospital of our own. It's too bad we can't build an addition or something, off the side. Where I could do medical stuff but keep our house in its own private space, you know?"
"Huh. Could do a lean-to," Daryl said consideringly.
"A lean-to?"
"Yeah, y'know. It's like a… structure you build onto th' side of an existin' one. To make like an enclosed patio, or a… what's that fancy word for those rooms with all th' glass? Not a greenhouse."
"A conservatory? Or a sun room?"
"Yeah, I reckon." He shrugged. "You can use it for other things, too. Like an additional room. Built one once as part of a huntin' shack Merle an' I used to use. Weren't too hard. Reckon it ain't too hard to carry th' concept over to makin' a little nursing station type thing."
Beth's spoonful of beans hung in mid-air as she looked at him, a bit wide-eyed. "You could really do that?"
He held her eyes for a moment, and then gave a little nod. "With some help, anyway." The last, he added with a typical Daryl Dixon shrug.
"You know… I know you didn't have the best childhood by far—" She saw him shift in place, and hurried to add, "—But sometimes I wish I learned some of the useful things you learned, you know, before all this. How to hunt and track and build a fire and build structures and all that."
"Y'know most of it now yourself."
"Yeah, because of you, Daryl." She looked at him affectionately, lovingly, even as she teased him.
He turned slightly towards her, opening up a little under her loving stare. Again she was struck by the idea of Daryl as being like a cat that had grown up without love and affection, who turned towards it now like he was drinking it in, the way a cat would bask in the sun. It made her want to climb into his lap and give him a hug, but the moment she started to move, he cleared his throat and stared pointedly again at her half-finished dinner. "Alright, alright," she grumbled, muttering under her breath, "Mother hen…"
"I heard that." But he was smiling in amusement even as he said it. He grew quiet for a moment after, a thoughtful, companionable sort of quiet. She thought the topic might be done, but after a minute or so, he spoke up again, quieter this time. "You're not wrong. I did learn a lot of useful things. Or things that turned out t' be more useful than I ever thought they'd be at th' time." He swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing hard in his throat for a moment, his eyes a little darker under the hair that half-covered them. "But that don't mean I don't still wish my childhood was different. That there weren't things I never had, that I wish I did."
As always, she validated his vulnerability, because she knew he needed that from her and she was more than happy to give that to him. Remembering their conversation in the truck a few days ago, Beth ventured, "Like a vacation?"
"Yeah." Now it was his turn to sigh. His arms tightened a little across his chest as he added, "We weren't never the kind of family to take a trip to a beach, or a little cottage, let alone to Disney World or nothin'. But it would have been nice, I reckon."
"Yes," she said softly, before finishing off the last spoonful of beans. She set the spoon on the plate with a light clink, and turned towards him, her chin propped in one hand. "It would have been nice to take a vacation together, too. You know… in a world where we were together, but everything was still normal."
She suspected he was about to argue if that would ever have been possible, but they'd had that discussion before. She cut it off with a shake of her head. "I don't want to debate the possibilities of that. Ignore that part. Just imagine the world was normal, Daryl, the way it used to be. And that we were together. Where would you wanna go, on vacation? To the beach? Disneyworld?"
"A cabin, I reckon. In the woods."
She looked around them with a little laugh, and said playfully, "Well I've got great news for you…"
He chuckled, but his eyes were serious when they found hers again. "Nah, not like this. One of them fancy cabins, up in the mountains with a crazy view, y'know? It'd have a lot of big windows and one of them wrap-around porches, and a big ol' stone fireplace…"
"With a comfy, plush sofa we could curl up on?" She leaned towards him, eyes bright with delight at the idea.
"Mmm. You'd make hot chocolate or somethin', and we'd spend the weekend just relaxing. Watching movies, or using the hot-tub."
"Of course, it would have to have a hot-tub." She grinned. "Am I wearing a swimsuit in this hot-tub, or…?"
"Little minx." He reached for her as he said it, grabbing her waist and pulling her into his lap as she squealed in mock-surprise. "I just think it would be nice, is all. We could read books out loud, or sit outside and enjoy the view." A smirk crossed his lips as he added, "Or spend all day in the big king-sized bed. It'd probably have some expensive-ass sheets, too."
"Mmm, Egyptian cotton." Beth leaned into him with a sigh, curled sideways on his lap as he wrapped his arms around her. Her nose nuzzled just under his ear as she murmured, "We could still have that, someday. You never know. Things might not always be… like this."
"Well, I don't know about that. I ain't no prophet, I can't say how things might turn out." His hand rubbed up and down her back, brushing circles over her shirt until she sighed into him again. "I just think it would be nice, you know… in another world."
"Yeah." But even as she agreed with him, her mind was already running into overdrive, already discarding the idea of 'another world.' Why not this world? Why not this Daryl, and this her? After all, if anyone deserved a vacation, a chance to relax, it was him. Sure, she had a lot of things to do, a lot of things to prepare for. But she was never going to complain about adding anything to her list that involved making Daryl smile.
She would do anything to make him smile. Hell, she would capture the moon to make him smile. And planning a vacation, even in this damn world… well that was a hell of a lot easier than capturing the moon.
It might even be something she could manage all on her own.
A/N: Well, I hope y'all are enjoying this. I didn't get a lot of comments on the last update, and I don't want to be the kind of person who begs for comments. It's just my barometer for if this is going well or not, I guess. Hopefully you at least liked a certain scene.
Also, this is a "version" of Enid, just to be clear. An alternate version of her, if you will. (Partially because obviously they're not in Alexandria, and partially because I didn't really watch her seasons, I just wanted to bring in a version of a familiar character, with her own secrets and such.)