**A/N: This is mostly a sweet chapter, I think you'll especially love the second half and the ending. There is a good bit of Carol in this chapter, I know maybe not everyone is fond of her. She's important to Daryl though, and so this is my attempt to view her through his eyes and also maybe fix some of the mess the show made of her this season. (A big thanks to sparks-of-greene on tumblr for helping me hash out the Carol stuff and beta-ing that section of the chapter.)
The drop-down metal steps creaked under Daryl's weight as he stepped out of the silver trailer and surveyed the campground in front of him. The scene was picturesque in a way. Grass stretched out in front of the camper, dotted by a few of the clean tents they'd salvaged and set up around the firepit, which crackled now with a nice steady fire. The group was spread out in a rough circle around it; gathered on logs or just seated on the ground. He could see Tara and Rosita (who was usually off on her own though often with Tara at her side) inside one of the open tents, talking softly to themselves as Eugene sat outside the door, presumably on guard in his own odd way.
To the right of them, Ivy and Noah were stretched out on the grass resting, their hands linked between them as they softly talked. Others were working at the structure Beth and he and built over the fire to dry the meat from the fish they'd caught earlier in the day; he watched Hank and Noah's mother Roberta adjusting the thinly cut strips of fish on the wooden braces to make sure they cooked evenly. All in all it really was something out of some post-card suburban fantasy of a camping weekend... Or it would have been, if not for the cans strung up around the camp, or the sight of Rick and Tyreese standing guarding with their guns and walking the perimeter, covered by Sasha who was up on the top of the RV with her rifle.
Even without them in his line of sight the view wasn't so picturesque for Daryl, because he couldn't stop looking out over that ridge ahead of him. Since yesterday, every time his gaze drifted to that ridge he felt something clench at his gut as memory flashed through his mind.
He had only seconds to register the sound of crumbling rock and then Beth was crying out his name. He turned sharply, feeling his stomach drop at the sight of her tumbling over the cliff. Her fingers scrambled at the ground, trying in vain to clutch at something, anything to stop from going over, curling against the rock as worry dug it's claws into his belly and twisted and tore. He lurched forward as fast as he could, frantic but single-minded in his focus: Beth, Beth, Beth, Beth.
He'd almost been too late. One more second and he'd have lost her, one more second and his fingers would have closed on air and she'd have gone tumbling over the edge the same way she'd crumpled to the floor with that cops bullet slicing across her scalp. But he'd caught her and somehow, despite feeling her slipping from his grasp, he'd pulled her back up and into his arms. Safe, once again.
Daryl knew that they were safe right now, or as safe as they could get in a world where things could change at any moment. But that relative safety didn't stop his gaze from drifting to the ridge again and again, remembering the panic and the sudden gut-wrenching fear that had overtaken him for just one moment as he faced the thought of losing her again.
Beth. Now, just as he'd done each time his gaze had been pulled to the ridge today, Daryl let his gaze drift to her.
She was sitting cross-legged on a blanket by the fire with Carl beside her and Judy standing on unsteady legs thanks to Beth's hands under her arms holding her up. He drank in the sight of her; sun shining on her hair and dancing down the curve of her neck as she tipped her head back in a happy, pure laugh. Even the scars on her face did nothing to take away from her beauty. Though seeing them was a reminder of what she'd gone through, it was also a reminder of the strong woman she'd become and they only made her more beautiful in Daryl's mind.
They were a fighter's scars. A warrior's scars. Like the one sliced across her wrist, they marked how many times she had fought to save her own life, to survive to be here now.
"You know she's not gonna disappear, right?" The familiar steady voice beside him had Daryl turning to see Carol watching him with an amused smile on her lips.
If it were Glenn he would have glared, Rick he would have shrugged, Michonne he might have cracked a slight sarcastic joke, but Carol... Carol was like his sister. Had been for a good while now, even though a part of him had felt her drifting a bit lately. It was like the more he became anchored by his relationship with Beth and the ways he had begun to change, the more Carol began to uproot herself, though he didn't think the two things were related quite so literally. In some way he felt a little bit of guilt for not trying harder to reel her in, to help her the way he'd known she needed help since that night in Atlanta when she'd been at his side helping him try to find Beth.
He'd seen that night, the ways she'd changed. He'd seen the darkness in her that had once filled him in the days following the prison, when he'd been filled with a guilt that threatened to overwhelm him, threatened to rise over his head like the ocean tides until Beth had reached down and fished him out.
Daryl's gaze shifted back to Beth again for just a moment, watching as whatever she said made Carl laugh. He hadn't failed to notice how much better the kid looked lately. How he seemed to be opening up again, to be regressing but in the way he should have been; back to a kid as much as he could be, but a kid who was more confident in himself. Daryl knew that it was because of Beth. Because she'd seen what Carl needed and was slowly but surely giving it to him.
She inspired emotions in him that Daryl was still unused to, but she also simply inspired him. He looked at her and the way she helped the people she loved; just one facet of the goodness that he wished he could emulate sometimes. Maybe he could.
All of those things flashed through his mind in just a few seconds, and so when he turned back to Carol he said simply, "I know I should believe that she won't just disappear. But..." He shrugged. But he couldn't erase the worry of losing her, couldn't erase the panic that gnawed at his stomach each time he remembered her sliding over that ledge.
Carol looked surprised, perhaps that he'd admitted that to her rather than just shrugging or covering it up or making a joke. After a moment, Daryl took the last step down onto the grass and stood beside her, both of them watching Beth with Judith and Carl. The quiet fell between them for a long moment, but it was more considering than uncomfortable. It was the quiet born of a deep friendship, a bond that had grown from them almost since this new world had begun.
When he finally spoke, Daryl kept his voice casual; not as if she were a skittish doe in the woods, but something more fierce and dangerous that he didn't want to spook, or rise to anger. Carol was far from a scared doe these days. "What do you think about all this? Us heading back south, looking for a place to make our own?"
"It's a destination." Carol kept her gaze focused forward even as Daryl turned his head slightly to study her. "Who knows if it can be more than that." She didn't say the words, but Daryl could hear them in his mind: I don't know if anything can be more than that.
He remembered that night with her by the car and then in Atlanta, the things she'd said about wanting to be able to start over but not knowing if she could. They sat in companionable silence for a few moments before he spoke again. "This could be it," Daryl said lowly and careful as watched her, "A place to start over, finally."
Carol spoke so simply; not quite sharp enough to sound pessimistic but not quite dour enough to be glum, yet negative all the same, "Isn't that what they've all been? The CDC, the farm, the prison, Terminus, Richmond… each time people thought they might be something good for us, some new start, and look how that turned out."
Her words stung. Daryl's brow furrowed as he tried to pinpoint when this had all begun, when she'd lost her hope. He supposed it had been the loss of her daughter, Sophia- even now, for him, thinking of her sent a pang through his heart- and yet he remembered that at the prison it had seemed like she was trying again. Trying to move on, trying to grow stronger, trying to live. He didn't know if he could pinpoint when that had changed again. Perhaps it was the Governor, or maybe it was the deadly illness that had forced her to drastic measures. Perhaps something he had missed entirely, too wrapped up in his own issues to consider those of others.
Whenever it had happened- if it had even been one single thing and not the combined pile up of event after event- there was no doubt she had changed. There was no denying that Carol had very little hope, if any at all. He could remember how that felt, especially today, when the memory of almost losing Beth over that ridge had sent the threat of that emptiness rearing up in the back of his mind once more. Daryl shifted in place, adjusting the strap of the crossbow so that his heavy weapon settled in its familiar place on his back. "Just 'cause those places didn't work out, don't mean this won't either. Gotta have a little faith, right? Or what's the point?"
Now it was Carol's turn to study him, examining his face with a faint furrow in her brow before she remarked, "There used to be a time I'd have been shocked to hear you say something like that. I never got a chance to ask you, back in Atlanta… what changed?"
Even as his head began to turn so his gaze could land again on silken blonde strands shining in the sunlight, the words flashed through his mind:What changed your mind?
Before he had a chance to put into words the enormity that was the answer to that question (moonshine and burning flames, fingers lacing through his own, the taste of peanut butter on his tongue, the feeling of breath grazing across his skin), Carol gave a soft hum and responded to herself, "I guess I don't need to ask that, do I?"
Daryl didn't recognize what he saw in her eyes. If he'd had to put a name to it he would have guessed it was something akin to jealousy. Not in a romantic way; he didn't for a moment think that Carol was jealous of Beth and the relationship the two of them shared. That wasn't who he and Carol were together, not even close. No, they were brother and sister, and maybe that was where the jealousy had taken root.
They were the siblings of similar situations; born of abuse and violence and tough circumstances, both of them rising for the ashes of their pasts to find their own strength, at least for a time. It was what had bonded them in the first place, but it was also the cause of the change between them now, because Daryl had kept on rising. He'd found hope and goodness in the world through Beth, through the warmth of the light she carried within her and shone onto him until he slowly began to see it around him as well. Even in the darkness he'd been in without her, he had never given up. He had chosen to keep on trying to help himself, to save himself even as he'd tried to save her. He'd found even more hope in finding her again, in bonding with her. Together they had risen above their guilt and their pasts, or at least learned to live with what they couldn't rise above.
But not Carol. Every good thing she'd been given had been taken away; her daughter, her freedom, the prison, her hope for the future. If they were like siblings than he was the one who had gotten away from their bad life and moved hopefully ahead, while she was the one who was still stuck there, struggling through it and trying to make the best of a bad situation, but stuck nonetheless. Stuck in that dark place in her mind, unwilling or unable to pull herself up the way he did; unaware she needed help, or maybe unwilling or unable to ask for it even if she knew she needed it.
She was a proud woman, and he'd always admired her for that. He had been proud of her after all, of the woman she had become after losing so much, after suffering so much. Maybe she'd become too proud; too proud to realize she had stalled, too proud to realize she needed help let alone to request it. Maybe she really had lost sight of who she was now, like she'd told him that day back in Atlanta. Maybe she just needed help figuring out who she was now, or who she could become.
Daryl kept his eyes on Beth, remembering the way she'd drawn him out of his shell from the start, without him even realizing it. He wasn't nearly as subtle as her but he was just as determined as she could be, in his own way. Especially when it came to his family. Family was everything to Daryl Dixon, even though he had once longed for a true family without even understanding what family could really be, let alone dreamed that he might find it someday, albeit unconventionally.
That was why he felt like he had to help her. She was family, just like Merle had been, only he'd been too late to help his brother, too late to drag him up out of the muck and show him something better. He wouldn't let that happen with Carol. He wouldn't lose her like he'd lost Merle. He wouldn't leave her behind.
"I reckon you have more hopeful things around than you realize." His words sounded more scornful than he had intended.
"Do you?" Carol sounded somewhat disbelieving, though that didn't surprise him.
"Yeah." He nodded ahead of them to their full family, spread out across the campsite. "Look at all of us. Alive, still surviving, still together. Ain't that hopeful? Look at them." He nodded briefly at the little group by the fire; Judy gurgling and laughing as she was bounced on Beth's lap, Carl smiling brighter than Daryl reckoned he'd seen the kid smile in weeks, and Beth, his own bright beam of hope and lightness in this shitty-ass world.
As if sensing her gaze on him she looked up and their eyes met, and the smile that spread across her lips lit up her face, putting to shame the actual rays of sun that shone on her from above. In an instant there was a smile on his own face that matched it, at least by his own standards. A quirk of his lips that was, for Daryl, practically a grin.
"That's yours," Carol said softly, drawing his attention back to the woman beside him. "It's your hope. It's not mine."
"S'yours, too. It's your family, Carol. The same family you risked everythin' to save, back at Terminus." He paused for a moment, remembering a dark evening that was a crystal clear memory in his mind despite the alcohol that had fueled it. He recalled the cool night air, moonshine warm in his belly and a sweet blonde girl across from him spilling truth from her lips as easily as the drops of moonshine had fallen from their upturned glasses:
Well, you got away from it.
I didn't.
You did.
Maybe you got to keep on reminding me sometimes.
With his own words echoing in his mind, Daryl said, "If I need to point it out to you again, I will." He looked over at her again, a firm set to his expression that hinted at the stubborn determination he was known for. "But I think you know that, deep down. S'why you're still here with us, why you haven't run off. Ain't no shame in needin' a reminder every once in awhile, though."
"Daryl…" The hint of exasperation in her voice told him he'd pushed this conversation about as far as he could, for now anyway. Carol was enough like him that he could tell when that point had been reached, when anything else he'd said would just irritate her more. It was better to leave her with this, to give her time to let it sink in same as he'd needed time for Beth's words to sink into his mind, too. Like stones tossed in the center of a pond and drifting slowly to the bottom, leaving ripples of change in their wake.
"Just remember at least that I ain't givin' up on you." He took slow steps away from the trailer, but paused to cast a glance over his shoulder at her. "I meant what I said, a while back. You an' me, we can both start over. I ain't gonna let you get left behind. Alright?"
Daryl didn't expect much, but the slight nod he got from her was something. It was a start. A spark, even. That was all he needed, for now.
Leaving Carol behind to hopefully muse over their conversation, he let himself get pulled by the gravity he always felt surrounding Beth; the pull that drew his eyes to watch her, his feet to move towards her, his hands to touch her. She saw or sensed him coming and looked up to meet his gaze with a warm smile that only increased the tug of that gravity on his core, and by the time he reached her side he knew he was smiling too.
"Hey," he murmured in simple greeting, offering Carl a nod when the boy seemed to (conveniently) decide to get up and head towards where his Dad was on watch.
Beth gave him a warm smile as she held Judith under her arms, bouncing the baby on her legs to get her to try and stand a bit. "I think we carry her too much," she remarked, slipping into conversation as easily as she always did. "She should be pulling herself up by now, or learning to, but these last couple months it feels like all we do is carry her around, you know? And it's not like she's got familiar rooms and furniture to learn with."
He saw a faint furrow appear in her brow, but Beth didn't seem too upset, at least not about Judy. Instead she just nodded decisively. "We'll all just have to keep working on it. Helping her stand, giving her things to pull herself up with." She looked up at Daryl with another sweet smile, and added, "You know, she's gonna be a year old soon… I think in another month. There was a calendar back at Richmond. Sasha and I both wrote down the dates just so we can keep track again. Anyway, she'll probably say her first word pretty soon. Most babies do by the time they're a year old."
As if to punctuate that, Judith plopped down on her butt and then cooed something in a voice that rose and fell like adult speech, but was mostly still just random sounds, "Ba ba, pa pa ta-bi bi bi."
He wasn't sure what was cuter, Judy, or the way Beth instantly replied back in a sweet voice, "Yes, that's right sweet girl. You want something? Tell me what you want, angel."
With her hands free, Judy looked at Daryl and stretched her hands out before babbling, "Mi-mi da-da-DA-da."
"Do you want Daryl, sweet pea?" He had no idea if the da-da-da sounds were really about him or if Beth was just assuming, but either way it made him chuckle. Besides, Lil' Asskicker really was reaching for him so after a moment he scooped her up and pulled her into his lap where she happily cooed and babbled away some more.
He tried to bounce her a bit the way she seemed to like lately, but Judith seemed much more interested in reaching up for his hair, curling her chubby baby fist around it and tugging until he bit back a curse. "Lil' Assk- Judy's got a damn strong grip."
"She likes playing with hair." He could feel her eyes lingering on him, but didn't look up at her until she playfully reached out and tugged on a lock of his hair herself to tease, "I can see why."
He'd expected to see playfulness and teasing in her eyes when he looked up, and he did, but there was something more, too. Something warm and affectionate as she watched him holding Judy, bouncing the baby lightly in his lap as she tried to squirm and reach his dark strands of hair. The way she was looking at him, her eyes full of a depth of emotion and love and want, was something that might have terrified him in the past. Not now. Now he just met her gaze steadily, holding it for a long moment until a smirk twitched at his lips and his hand snaked around to tug at the little braid in her ponytail.
"Hey!" She squirmed away from him with a giggle that he met with another low, rumbling chuckle.
"Don't dish it out if you can't take it, Greene." With her laughter lightening the hint of worry that had cast a pall over him in the wake of his conversation with Carol, Daryl was content to just sit there with her for a moment, playing with Judy and occasionally ducking the grasping hands of both his girls.
It was a few minutes after he'd tugged Beth's braid another time and her latest round of laughter had eased into companionable silence that she gently asked, "Is everything okay with Carol?"
Though his brow faintly furrowed, the pall didn't return. He'd found that it was hard to stay worried too long when Beth was around. It was as if her very nature, so full of hope and goodness as it was, shone bright enough to chase away even the wispiest hint of clouds that threatened to bring down his mood. So it was easier for him to reply after a moment, "She has her demons she's dealing with. Don't we all?"
Beth's only reply was a hum, but she didn't have to say more when it came to that question. He knew her demons about as well as he knew his own, because there were few things now that they didn't share between them, including the different shapes the darkness took when it crept into their thoughts to try and take hold. He also wasn't surprised that she reached her hand out to slightly graze the tips of her fingers over his arm as she asked with concern, "Are you okay?"
He studied her face for a moment, drinking in the way the sunlight shown on her hair and made her cornflower blue eyes sparkle at him in contrast to the concern he saw within them. Daryl gave her a slow but sure nod just before he ducked his head out of the way of Judith's grasping hand one more time. Though he was quiet, he let his free hand find hers where it rested on his leg, gently brushing his fingers over the smooth back of her hand for just a few seconds before pulling away.
The contact steadied him even as her presence had. He needed that, because while it was hard to fully feel his worry when he was around her, the conversation with Carol had been jarring for him in some regards, not the least of which because the darkness he'd seen in her had brought up the specter of Merle in his mind. He didn't want the idea of losing another sibling to take up root in his mind. He refused to let it happen again. But there wasn't much he could do now that he hadn't just done. It would take time, and hopefully he would have plenty of that. For now he just had to focus on himself and, of course, Beth.
"Was thinkin'," he said after a moment, his voice a bit gruff, "Maybe in a bit we can head off on our own. Do some huntin' or just see what else is around here. Prob'ly more campsites in the woods, maybe some supplies or somethin'."
He'd spoken hesitantly, but he hadn't needed to. As soon as he spoke, Beth just gave him an easy smile and a nod. "That sounds perfect." He knew she understood every facet of why he'd suggested it; his need to provide, the peace he felt in the woods, the privacy that both of them often craved. Of course she understood. Beth always understood.
...
A half hour later, with Judith securely in her father's lap and Carl assigned the important job of finding wood they could turn into arrows (and thus helpfully distracted from coming with them), Beth and Daryl set off on their own into the woods surrounding the campground.
He could feel the tension easing from his shoulders with each step they took deeper into the trees. It never failed. Though simply being in her presence was a refuge to him, there was something similar he felt when easing into the woods and there always had been. The sounds of people faded and the still quiet was punctuated instead by the soft rustling of trees or the chattering of birds. Everything made sense in the woods. Everything was simpler, so much easier to understand than anything involving people. It had always been like this for him and that had only become more true when he had Beth at his side as well. Daryl had no doubt it was the same for her; he could see the calm ease stealing over her now as it did every time they were like this.
"I hope wherever we end up settling, it's got plenty of woods around it." Beth slung her crossbow carefully over her back, the strap pulling tight against her chest as she flashed him a smile and she went on, "I don't think you and I would be happy otherwise."
He hummed his agreement, and added after a moment, "Plus it'd be good for defense, and for hunting."
"Always thinking practically." She gave him another smile, this one teasing. Her arm brushed his but neither of them made a move to touch each other more than that. This wasn't like their frantic rush into the woods yesterday after he'd nearly lost her over the ridge. Despite their desire for time alone, both of them were focused on the task at hand, looking for signs on the ground and through the foliage ahead even as Beth filled the silence with her soft voice.
They moved in a vague half-circle, planning on heading round the edges of the camp where they might find other abandoned campsites. In fact, when Beth perked up beside him with a soft 'oh!' he thought perhaps she'd spotted a campsite, but instead she hurried up to several large bushes and flashed a grin over her shoulder at him.
"Look, Daryl, blueberries!" She plucked one from the bush and popped it between her lips with a hum of pleasure. "Mmm. It's almost late for these, but they're good. We should bring some back for the others…"
He saw her falter for just a moment and he knew she was remembering the same thing he did; the first time the pair of them had been alone together, Beth pulling berries from a bush almost just like this (they'll be hungry when we find them), collecting them to feed to the children they later found dead on the railroad tracks. His understanding was silent and so was his reassurance as he came up behind her and gently pressed one hand to her lower back as his other hand came up to pluck a berry from the tree and pop it between his own lips.
"Mm." He chewed thoughtfully for a moment and when he finally spoke his voice was low and almost casual, surprising given what he was saying. "Used to have some bushes like this in the woods 'round where I lived when I was a kid. Plucked a whole bunch of 'em once and carried 'em back to my Ma, holding out the bottom of my shirt to carry 'em in. Shoulda seen the smile on her face when I offered them up to her. Like it was the best thing she'd seen in weeks."
It probably had been. He remembered it had been a bad week for her; his Pa had been getting drunk every night and when he was on a bender like that the anger always came quicker, the slaps and punches harder. How long had it been since anyone had given his Ma somethin' that wasn't painful, somethin' that didn't leave a mark on her easily-bruised skin? A shirtful of blueberries really must've seemed like the sweetest thing ever to her, then. Especially considering she'd been just on the pleasant side of tipsy when he'd shown up with them.
Now he was the one shifting into bad memories and Beth was the one just as easily sliding her hand up his back as she rested her cheek to his shoulder. "I bet she loved it," she said softly. That was all she said, but simple remarks were best when it came to his divulging his own past and Beth knew that just as well as she knew how to move them past that moment now that it had been acknowledged.
"Did I ever tell you the story about when I got lost blueberry picking?" She looked up at him with an amused smile; she hadn't even begun the story yet and he already felt the darkness easing. "Well I was about ten, so I think Shawn was twelve or thirteen or so and Maggie was sixteen..." Together they pulled a clean spare black shirt from her bag and began to load it carefully with blueberries from the bush. As they worked, Beth's lilting sweet voice filled the air with the story of how her family had gone to see some family friends on their berry farm, and pick blueberries in the massive blueberry patch they owned and operated.
Daryl laughed as she animatedly talked about wandering off into the blueberry bushes after spotting what she'd thought was a bunny running down one of the rows (he wasn't surprised, that sounded just like her) and ended up completely lost in the massive fields and then the forest that bordered it.
"So it must have been a half hour later or something, and I come stumbling out of the woods missing a shoe, twigs in my hair, just in time to spot my Daddy and Shawn standing by the truck. They were loading up firewood they'd chopped down and there I was running at them from the woods just hollering in excitement. They just looked completely bewildered, and for good reason. Not only had they had no idea I'd gone missing, but it turned out I'd crossed to like, the complete opposite side of the property. Several acres of woods or something like that, and I just happened to come out exactly where they'd been working."
She shook her head and the little laugh she gave bubbled up around her. "You should've seen Mama and Maggie's faces when Daddy and Shawn pulled up with me beside them. They'd gone all frantic looking for me and there I was, grinning like I'd just had the best adventure ever."
He nudged her with his arm as he settled the last couple blueberries into the shirt, and then snorted with amusement. "Sounds about right for you. Little troublemaker, hm?"
"Hey, I was not! I was an angel." She stuck her tongue out and crinkled her nose at him, but only for a moment before she amended, "Well, mostly. I was curious, that was half my problem as a kid. I wanted to investigate everything."
Daryl hummed at that; she was still curious now. Curious and observant and clever… Something occurred to him after a moment, and he gave a snort of amusement. "Found your way through acres of woods right to your Dad, hm? See, you were training for me even then."
The look she gave him right then caught him entirely off guard. Behind the amusement and mirth was that same depth of love and caring again that echoed in his own heart and warmed him to his core, especially when she murmured, "Sometimes I wonder if some small part of me wasn't always readying itself for you."
When he only hummed in question, she went on, "Everything I've gone through, everything you've gone through… You know, it made us who we are. It's a part of why we work so well together." She trailed to a stop and looked up at him with a smile that was full of love again but also with a hint of amusement. "You know, you should probably kiss me before I start getting too sappy."
He only hesitated a moment before he leaned in, easing his lips over hers in a soft kiss that lingered once he got the taste of her on his lips again and couldn't help but ache for more. When he finally drew back both of them sucked in a hitching breath, and Daryl knew his own eyes had darkened with need the same as hers had. But instead of kissing her again he just brought his hand up and cupped her face so his thumb could graze along the line of her jaw as he murmured, "Don't mind when you get a little sappy." The corner of his mouth twitched up in a little smirk. "Don't much mind kissin' you either, though."
A flash of that playfulness went through her eyes again as she shot back, "Oh you don't mind kissing me, hm? So I guess you don't mind notkissing me, then?"
What flashed through his eyes in that moment was darker, almost primal as he gave her a glimpse of the need that simmered constantly under the surface of his skin; held at bay only by years and years of hard-earned control that allowed no emotion to flash across his features. He let her see what he held back out of habit, the same need she must have seen in him every time they made love, every time he kissed her, every time that desperation took over like it had yesterday in their frantic lovemaking against the ground.
His thumb grazed over her cheek just below the dark line of her scar as he said in a half-growl that rumbled in his chest, "I always mind not kissin' you."
The look she gave him now, playful and feisty and full of that same desire, was on a long, long list of things he loved about Beth Greene, right there alongside the voice she used as she teased back simply, "I know. Me too. All the time."
Daryl almost wanted to kiss her right there. Kiss her until they fell to their knees in front of the blueberry brambles, until she was panting and gasping beneath him and giving those soft sweet moans he loved so much. For now he just settled for brushing his lips against hers one more time, gentle and loving, before he carefully folded up the shirt full of berries and wedged it gingerly into her bag. "C'mon." All that gave away the desire he was ignoring for now was the roughness in his voice and the look in his eyes, but he knew she saw all of that. He could see the same look in her eyes too, as she gently brushed her fingers against the back of his hand and walked alongside him ahead into the forest.
...
The blueberries weren't the only thing they found on their slow circular exploration around the campgrounds. They found two more small campsites; one tent torn down by what looked like the walker that had been inside, and one completely abandoned. At the first they managed to scavenge a canteen and a cast-iron pan, as well as a collapsible bucket. At the second they rolled up the sleeping bag and took down the tent; they were planning on packing up all the tents they could find and storing them in the RV which, to everyone's delight, had proved to still be running (and a lot better than the piece of shit one they'd had back before the farm).
With their new load, Daryl knew it was almost time to go back. Having their hands too full would only put them at risk. But his instincts told him to keep pushing for a little bit longer. He didn't figure out why until they entered into a small clearing close to the road that ran down from the ridge to the lake. A small yellow tent sat in the clearing, but that wasn't what caught his eyes. No. What his gaze fixed on was the shape leaned against a nearby tree, covered in a dark green tarp. From beneath the edge of the plastic he could just see a glint of metal, the hint of a wheel…
"Ain't no way…" He strode across the clearing, hesitating only for a moment before grabbing the edge of the tarp and whisking it off to reveal exactly what he'd thought it was.
A motorcycle.
"Whoa." Beth came up beside him, holding a sleeping bag in one hand as her wide eyes drank in the sight of it. At least that confirmed he wasn't the only one seeing this right now. He hesitantly reached out and brushed his hand over the seat as Beth asked in a slightly-breathless voice, "It doesn't look much like your old one…"
"Nope." He moved slowly around the edge, inspecting the leather seat and the tires. "This baby is custom-built. Looks like it was a Scrambler to start, but whoever owned this beauty outfitted her for the terrain. High mounted exhaust, widened handle bars, off-road tires, army green paint t' help it blend in… Damn."
Daryl heard a breathy chuckle besides him and stopped in his caressing of the bike's wide handlebars to look over at Beth. She pursed her lips to blow a strand of blond hair out of her eyes and flashed him a teasing little smirk as she said, "Gonna make me jealous, talking about the bike like that."
He couldn't help the chuckle that rumbled through him as he reached out, snaked an arm around her waist, and dragged her close, right against his side. "She's a beauty but you're my girl, alright? This bike doesn't come close. Still is sweet though…" He ran his hand over the seat once more and whistled. "Bike like this is built for these mountains and forests. Bet she rides real good, too."
"So I guess we know what the important question is…"
As Beth pressed against his side, Daryl looked down at her and raised a quizzical eyebrow until she just smiled and finished in three deceptively simple words, "Does she run?"
**A/N: SQUEAL? Okay so maybe the end of the chapter is my favorite bit, even if I did leave it on a tiny cliffhanger. By the way if you're curious, this is the bike that Daryl and Beth just found, and yes, it is very sexy: tinyurl (.) com/nzncj9uJust enjoy that visual image for a bit as you wait for the next chapter. Reviews and follows are love, thanks again to everyone who stuck around for this sequel!