"Never Give Up (On Each Other)"

Author: carmen_085

Disclaimer: I do not own any Walking Dead Characters. I do own all original characters.

Summary: In the months before the beginning of the apocalypse, Daryl finds himself homeless, alone, and with no direction. An adult Beth is struggling to balance her job, sick parents, and the farm. Feeling like the world is suffocating her, will taking a chance on a stranger change everything ? Can these two find what they need in each other before life as they know it ends and they must do anything to survive. AU but eventual ZA with full cast.

Chapter Sixteen

He was sure he was dead. So sure. In his entire life, Daryl had never felt so weak or so helpless as he did the moment that corpse was inching closer to his neck. He was giving it everything he had and it still wasn't enough. He was a goner….escaped from the cell only to find he was safer inside it. And then she appeared, standing above him with a spray of blood across her face, and an unmistakeable look of determination. The machete sunk into the dead's skull with a wet thwack, its snapping jaw immediately going slack. Relief flooded his body and he knew she felt the same when she slumped against the desk, her quiet sobs filling the humid air. Daryl wanted to relax, he wanted to close his eyes and just sleep…drift off and let go of the fight for just a moment.

But that wasn't how this worked and he knew it. Had known it since he was just a kid. The fight never stops. Forcing his eyes back open he heard it before he could see it. Hissing and moaning, dragging its broken ankles over the threshold looking for an easy meal. Beth was unaware, so blissfully unaware, thinking that all the hard work was done. She wasn't used to the fight like him. Her life, while difficult, had not been a daily struggle for survival. Summoning the last bit of strength from the depth of his soul, Daryl pushed himself up and in one swift motion brought the crossbow up to his eye. She hadn't even been aware that one of those things was in here until it hit the ground behind her.

The floor felt like it was pulled out from beneath him as he went crashing backwards into the filing cabinet. She was there, right in front of him, her soft hands on his chest trying to steady him. "You came…" The words sounded like they came out of someone else's mouth. Throaty and desperate and completely involuntary, Merle would have had himself a right good laugh. What he remembered after that came in halting, jerking flashes.

Their hands clasped tightly together

The sunlight on his face

Laying in the back of the truck, her lips pressed against his ear

And then this…this blackness and nothing. In his subconscious, Daryl couldn't decide if he was dead or alive. He wasn't stupid enough to think that there was something after you died, and even if there was he definitely wasn't stupid enough to think a Dixon would be welcome there. Despite his doubts, the nothingness eventually dissolved into something else; softness, warmth, comfort. In his mind he sighed, at least he wasn't in hell.

Reality came back to him in snippets of touch and sound that made little sense without having the ability to open his eyes. He knew he was laying on something soft, knew he was warm, and somewhere deep in his subconscious he knew he was safe. Daryl found that he had little control over his body as his legs trembled and his body spasmed with a mind of its own. So damn weak he would puke if he could only figure out how.

Someone was touching him, slow steady strokes down his arms and across his chest. In his mind's eye he saw Merle laying in the ICU, Beth running her hands over his lifeless body. Smoothing out all the wrinkles in that white blanket; everything so clean and so white he had to remind himself that this was his brother he was looking at right now. Now it was his turn and dead or alive it felt good, right, and so damn comforting he almost didn't care what happened next. Until it actually happened. Her soft voice reassured him as she carefully turned him onto his side. His back totally exposed he almost screamed with embarrassment. She was seeing the worst part of him, the part he did everything to hide away from her and the rest of the world, but her most of all. Beth was good and kind and she had more than enough to contend with aside from worrying about him and his sad life. Wasn't like crying or worrying about it would do much anyway. It happened and there was no changing that now.

Hesitant, trembling fingers ghosted over the longest, deepest scar on his back. That scar itched and burned like nothing else, but over the years Daryl had gotten used to it. That constant pain was part of him like so much else. His skin twitched under her gentle fingers as her sweet voice murmured something reassuring. Her words, his loose grip on reality…it began to fade as he fell head long into his own memories.

It was a hot day and the old man had been drinking for most of it. Earlier in the afternoon him and Merle had gotten into about one thing or another. Shouting at each other over the the television, the old man took a swing but Merle, much younger and mostly sober was able to dodge it without much effort. A snicker and insult only fired the old man up more, and before Daryl knew it Merle was revving the engine of his bike. Peeling out, loose gravel kicked up hitting the side of the house as the old man got up charging out the front door just in time to see his oldest son disappear down the road in a cloud of dust.

Daryl drew a sharp breath in as he slumped down in bed. He had no sheets on the bed, nothing but a threadbare comforter with long faded rocket ships all over it. He was eight years old, far too old to be the wetting the bed but sometimes it just….happened. Nightmares, screaming, and the ever present threat of his old man busting down the bedroom door, left him on edge even as he slept. This morning he woke up drenched in a cold sweat despite the humidity in the room, a nightmare he couldn't remember causing his heart to pound wildly in his chest. Gasping for air, it took all of two seconds for Daryl to realize that he was wet. Between the legs and down both sides of his ratty old pajama pants, the sheets and mattress beneath him. He jumped out of bed, even more frightened than when he woke up. As if someone was watching him right now, he stripped the bed and frantically rolled the sheets into a ball throwing them in the corner of the room. The first time this happened, it was a few months after his mama died, still raw from the whole ordeal he had a dream that they both burnt up in her bedroom, the door locked and no amount of tugging on the knob would open it. He woke with a welp and a gush of urine between his legs. Before he could even catch his breath, Merle and his daddy were coming through the door. Merle, because he never missed an opportunity to torture him, his daddy because Daryl should never be seen or heard.

Pulling the covers back, Merle was quick to see the wet spot on his pajamas a broad grin breaking out across his face. Daryl fought the urge to tremble knowing full and well he was about to get slapped at the very least. Instead his brother let out a hooting laugh slapping the old man on the back, Will's own lips twitching up into a smirk.

'Had your first wet dream, little brother. Bout time you learnt how to bust a nut…' They both cackled their antagonistic laughter. Daryl, throughly confused but also completely relieved, sat silently staring as Merle and the old man shared another laugh at his expense before eventually going back to the living room and whatever smut they'd been on watching on TV. That time everything was a joke, some rite of passage that an eight year old didn't understand. Of course once he became a teenager he knew damn well what a wet dream was, woke almost every morning rock hard and nearly whimpering in pain with no idea how to make it stop. Just one more shameful thing he struggled to put away.

Stuck alone with the Old man in the shitty trailer in the woods, it stopped being funny real quick. Daryl did his best to clean things up quickly but somehow he always knew. Probably the smell….there was no air-conditioning in his bedroom and things got hot and humid quickly. The beatings were usually quick, Will Dixon storming through the door and kicking him in the ass as hard as he could. Once it was so hard Daryl found blood in his underwear. Escaping to the woods, where he could be alone he found a tree and sat down sobbing. Afraid that he was going to die and simultaneously wondering if things would be better if he did.

Slumping down further under that worn and ratty comforter, Daryl squeezed his eyes shut. Merle's antics had gone and pissed the Old man off real good and now Daryl was left here alone to bear the brunt of that. Gravel sprayed against the aluminum siding making a loud 'twinking' sound. A string of curses and then heavy footsteps…he was coming. Daryl braced himself against nothing, all he had was a shitty blanket. The door swung open as his heart raced. The blanket yanked away, Daryl squeezed his eyes shut as the the bed shifted underneath him.

'Smells like piss in here…gonna get rid of this stinking mattress.' Daryl fell against the dresser hitting his head hard as the mattress flew down the hallway. 'You wanna piss yourself ? You sleep on the floor like a dog…' For his part, Daryl cowered hiding his face in his hands and hoping his bed would be the only thing he lost tonight. The sound of a leather belt sliding through the loops on a pair of faded jeans. No matter how long he lived that sound would always make the breath hitch in the back of his throat.

The first slap stung right across his ass, he knew it would ache for days. The second was to the back of his head, an involuntary welp falling out of his mouth. 'Gonna keep slappin' you, boy. You gotta learn…' A blow to his shoulder, another to his flank, and then a devastating lash straight across the back. He screamed in pain, practically lifted off the floor as his little fingers curled into tight fists. Daryl felt like he'd been ripped in half, cut straight through the center and out the front. Will Dixon stood over him laughing, the ashes from his cigarette falling into the fresh wound.

'Squealin' like a bitch…bleedin' like one too.' Giving him one last kick in the ass, the Old man pushed the mattress down the hallway and out the back door muttering a curse the entire way. Daryl didn't dare move a muscle until he heard the springs of the old recliner squeak and moan.

He should have probably got stitches or at least seen a doctor because that lash…the deep one that went right across his back, well it bled for days. He kept it as clean as he could and prayed that it would heal on its own. Eventually it did heal, but not well and for the better part of his adolescence it itched and burned every single day. He reasoned the skin was just stretching around it but still…hurt like a bitch. Once he became an adult it tingled now and then…burned when he did a lot of work that involved his back…but other than that it was just there. Irregular and deep purple, a constant reminder of what he was.

Daryl blinked his eyes. The room was dark, totally pitch black, with just a single sliver of moonlight peeking through the curtains. For a moment he had no idea where he was, his last concrete memory being flat on his back in that abandoned police staton. Snippets of the last few hours floating somewhere in the depths of his subconscious. He knew he wasn't dead, everything hurt too damn much for that to be true. His left arm was numb as something…or someone breathed gently against his chest. Struggling to swallow against a throat that felt like sandpaper, he shifted slightly and then it happened. A pressure in his lower abdomen that had him instantly sitting bolt upright in bed. The fact that Beth was cuddled up against him right now became an afterthought as he disentangled himself from her, a gush of wetness filling his underwear as he stood and immediately tripped over his own two feet landing on the floor with a groan. Embarrassment made his heart race as he scrambled to his feet. The IV pulled out of his arm and a stream of blood trickled onto the floor but he didn't notice, didn't really care.

Beth, hearing all the commotion woke with a start as she looked around the unfamiliar surroundings. "What ?…Daryl ?" Pushing herself up in bed, Beth rubbed her face as she realized that the bed was empty. Realizing that it must be Daryl stumbling around the room, she groped for the flashlight she knew she left right next to the bed. By the time the dim glow illuminated the room, Daryl was in a heap next to the bathroom door. "Oh my God, Daryl !"

She was out of the bed and at his side much too quick for his liking. He desperately wanted to get into the bathroom before she noticed the front of his shorts. But she was too fast or he was too slow and before he knew it she was there. Daryl, doing the only thing that came naturally to him, lashed out.

"Just leave me be…" Shrugging her hand off his shoulder roughly he pushed himself to his feet and slipped into the bathroom, slamming the door in her face. Beth recoiled, visibly stung by his abruptness. Biting her bottom lip she shown the flashlight across the floor. Wetness, a trail of it leading from the bed to where she was. At first she thought it was the fluids from the saline, squirted out from the dislodged IV but then she saw that the bag was long empty and dry. Putting the pieces together she closed her eyes and sighed softly.

It was quiet in the bathroom and she knew that Daryl was most likely collecting his pride. Affording him that much, she took one of the towels from the dresser and cleaned up the floor, the bed, and wiped the blood off the doorframe. The toilet flushed- one of the many benefits of living on a self sustaining farm- as she heard a strangled sigh. Deciding right then and there that this was simply ridiculous she opened the dresser, producing a fresh shirt, underwear and pair of pants. Straightening herself up in front of the bathroom door, Beth rapped her knuckles sharply on the hollow wood.

"Daryl Dixon, I'm coming in…" There was no protest, no string of curses like she expected, and instead she was met with a disconcerting silence. Pushing the door open, Beth carefully set the flashlight down on the sink illuminating the bathroom with a meager amount of light. He was leaning back against he tile wall, his knees bent up and knocked together, his hands covering most of his face. Her mouth was open and ready to say something but at the sight of him she fell silent.

"Sorry…" It came out as a grunt more than anything. "I made a mess…" He trailed off and she closed her mouth working her lower lip like she did when she didn't know what else to say. Carefully she stepped over him and went to the bathtub. Turning the faucets she checked the temperature of the water and was pleased that the hot water tank was still full. Beth sat on the rim of the tub, Daryl at her feet refusing to meet her eyes, she sighed softly as they sat there in silence for a moment.

"Bath should be ready in a few minutes…I put some clean clothes on the sink." Daryl grunted, shaking his head.

"Nah….I'll…I'll just go out behind the barn. Hose myself off.." His eyes quickly averted to the ground. Daryl's hair had begun to grow and what was a little longer in the front stuck to his forehead, matted from sleep and sweat. Reaching her hand out, Beth gently stroked the hair away from his eyes. In the dim lighting, she saw his chin wobble, raw emotion barely contained. A soft smile came to her lips although she was sure he'd never see it as he refused to even come remotely close to meeting her gaze.

"It's alright…" It was a whisper, maybe just above, but he heard it as he slowly nodded his head. Daryl didn't know how to put it into words- how she made him feel in that moment. Accepted…loved…alright. She just made him feel like he was alright, what had happened was alright, and that in the end they were all going to be alright. He couldn't look at her no matter how hard he tried, he was just too ashamed of himself right now. So when she pulled her cool hand away from his forehead and stepped back over top of him he was relieved. "Take all the time you need..I'll be right here." With that she closed the door softly behind her, leaving the flashlight on the sink to give him some light.

Daryl sat there for a moment taking a few deep breaths to het a hold of himself and all his emotions. He'd never felt so much in his life as he felt since he met Beth. Certainly never felt this much good in his life, never even dreamt that he could feel this much good. Pushing himself up, he peeled off his urine soaked underwear and shorts. Goddamn disgusting, pissing himself like he was still eight years old. Easing himself into the tub, Daryl closed his eyes. How he ended up in this place, with this amazing woman-risking her life to save his- he would never know. Didn't matter though, he didn't need to understand it, he just needed to make sure that he took care of her, kept her safe and protected, until this was over or until the day he died.

Two days later

Wracking her brain, Beth went through a mental checklist. The doors were locked, the gate was secure, the animals were tucked away in the barn, and her knife was securely at her side. She did this every night now before laying down. Daryl told her wasn't necessary for her to worry so much, he checked everything himself and had appointed himself as midnight lookout which Beth told him was completely ridiculous. Not that they needed one, she was still unsure about that, but that he stay awake every night, all night. He needed to sleep too, and the four or so hours he got in the early morning didn't count. He insisted, though, said this was the way it had to be.

Looking in on her mama she was happy to see that Annette was sleeping. Beth had been ridden with anxiety most of the day trying to figure out what she was going to do about getting her mama the medication she needed for her neuralgia. She knew it needed done a few days ago, but with everything that happened it got pushed aside and this evening had been Annette's very last pill. Beth didn't tell her that, of course, knowing that such a notion would send her mama reeling. She would figure something out and it would get taken care of like it always did.

Beth laid the knife on her nightstand as she did every night now, and tucked herself under the covers. She heard Daryl's heavy footfalls downstairs as he checked the doors and windows, going over what she had already done once more. Her daddy had settled himself downstairs on the couch, and now she heard him chuckle as he assured Daryl that if anything came through that door it would need to answer to him first. Since the day in town, her daddy hadn't said anything else about the dead just being sick and she was thankful for it. Hopefully, he understood now…still his light hearted banter about turning the farm into a military camp made her worry. This was serious…that serious. Her mama was here, her defenseless sick mama, and whatever measures they needed to take to keep this house and her safe they were going to do. He had no argument to that, naturally, and the conversation always ended there.

Signed she closed her eyes as she heard the door to her bedroom creak open. Her room was in the front of the house, overlooking the yard, pastures, and barn. Her mama's room was facing the back with Maggie and Shawn's old rooms on the sides. The best vantage point in the house was the porch roof and the only way to get onto it was through Beth's bedroom window. It was where Daryl had chosen for his look out and had shyly asked her if she minded him traipsing through her bedroom every night. She didn't, of course she didn't, how could he even think that ? He was staying up all night to make sure she and her family were safe.

Beth had lit a few candles on her dresser and the room was cast in a warm orange glow. The night was warm so her window had been open as Daryl rested his crossbow against the wall and slid the screen up. Against his better judgement, he cast a glance toward Beth. Her bed was just like he might have imagined it with a soft ivory comforter and pale blue sheets. Her blonde hair, like corn silk, spread over the pillow and for a moment his breath caught in his throat as he wondered what it might be like to lay there next to her. Fact was, he'd already done that, was just knocked out cold and didn't know the difference. Thankfully that night's sleeping arrangement hadn't been brought up, nor did she seem to remember anything about him pissing himself like a toddler. Silently his pride thanked God for both.

"Daryl are you sure ? You haven't slept all day…" She said that every night.

"Mmmhmmm." It was more a grunt than any actual words. Swinging one leg out the window he heard her sigh in resignation. There was something he'd been meaning to tell her, though, something important and necessary that had taken the better part of two days for him to work up the courage to say. "Thanks…for what you did."Beth's eyes flickered to him not sure what he meant at first. Biting his lower lip he shook his head looking away. "You're damn amazin' girl…" Beth was sure that this tips of his ears were on fire as he disappeared out onto the roof. She laid there for a moment, reveling in the compliment not because she was full of herself but because coming from Daryl it meant a lot…a whole fucking lot. A small smile came to her face as she drifted off to sleep knowing she was in good hands.

The scream came early, maybe four or five in the morning. It was hard to tell this time of year when the sun began to lift above the horizon earlier each day. Either way, it had Beth sitting bolt upright in bed with a gasp. Blinking her eyes a few times she saw light coming from across the hall.

Moaning, whining, and another, more muffled scream. Her mama.

Within seconds Beth was out of bed and across the hallway already preparing herself for the worst. She exhaled with relief when she saw her mama still tucked safely in bed, very much alive, but obviously in terrible pain. In flickering light her daddy turned to her, his face cast with dark shadows.

"It's the pain, Bethy…she needs another one of those pills." Beth swallowed hard.

"I gave her the last pill a few hours ago. That's it…there's nothing left." Annette let out a moan at that as she rubbed her face tenderly. Hershel sighed looking down at the floor obviously trying to wrack his brain for a solution.

"I have some things down in the basement. Some medicines for the animals…" Hershel bit his lip, "Probably all expired but better than nothing I suppose." Beth heard a noise behind her and before she could turn around, Daryl was standing there cross bow in hand but resting easily against his chest.

A sharp gasp. Beth still had one vial of Morphine that she had taken from the hospital. It wasn't in her purse with the rest of the medications that the sheriff had confiscated but in her scrub top. An opened vial that she had needed to waste but forgotten; there was a few milligrams left in it if she remembered correctly. Placing her hand gently on Daryl's chest she pushed past him to her room. Rummaging through her dresser she produced a small box. The candlelight flickered as her fingers clasped around a vial of Morphine; about four milligrams left. Enough to get her mama through the rest of tonight but once daylight broke they would need to do something about it.

Daryl watched as her deft fingers quickly started an IV and gave Annette the medicine. Almost instantly the moaning and whimpering stopped and even in the meager light he could see Beth's tense shoulders relax. He would need to go on a run once daylight broke, as one dose of pain medication surely wouldn't last forever. Daryl knew that Beth would want to come but he was adamant about doing anything and everything to keep her safe. She was it…the only thing he had left and he wasn't going to let anything happen to her.

Beth stared at the building and cried. She didn't mean to but it just happened. Burn's Drug Store had been a staple in their town for years. On the edge of Senoia, it was a small pharmacy that had taken a serious hit when Walmart moved. Hershel and his family had brought all their business there, and had remained faithful even when more convenient options arrived. In return for their loyalty, Dan the pharmacist kept a two month supply of the drug Trileptal on hand. Labeled as an anticonvulsant it was also used to treat spastic nerve pain like Trigeminal Neuralgia. Literally the only medication on earth that kept her mama from turning into a quivering, pathetic mess. It was her only play…the only idea she had to fix this problem with her mama and it was gone.

Daryl looked between Beth's tear stained cheeks and the burnt out shell of the Pharmacy and wondered what the hell they were going to do now. Down the street a couple of the dead began to shamble toward them hissing and growling. Beth dried her face and unsheathed her knife, ready to do her part if need be.

"I got 'em.." He didn't want her out here if she didn't need to be. They argued about it this morning; he feeling like it was an unnecessary risk, she feeling like it was more than necessary. It was her mama the pills were for after all. Eventually he relented but only because he was confident that he could keep her safe. After a day's rest and more IV fluids, Daryl was back to his usual strength and ready to fight. And no one was more relieved than him. Even though Beth never made him feel anything but loved, he couldn't stand the idea of being a burden to her.

From a distance it was easy to drop the two corpses as he mused that they needed a name for these things. Something easy that rolled off the tongue. Retrieving his arrows he walked back to Beth who was now watching two more shamble from between the buildings. Daryl easily dispatched the additional pair before falling deep in thought silently next to Beth.

"All they do is walk around looking for something to eat…." She mused, Daryl grunted reloading his crossbow.

"Walkers…" Beth turned her head looking at him quizzically. "Name for 'em…they're walkers. They just walk around…mindlessly."

She let a snort escape her lips, "The Walking Dead."

Daryl's eyes flicked to hers as his lips twitched up in a slight smirk. At least she wasn't crying anymore. He found that seeing Beth cry made his insides twist uncomfortably. Retrieving his bolts once again, the street was quiet. Even he had to wonder where the hell everyone went. Didn't really matter though, they needed to find this medication get the hell back home.

Suddenly Beth gasped her eyes going wide as a hand flew to her chest. Daryl studied her knowing that when she was ready she would tell him what was going on. Turning right to left, Beth attempted to orient herself finally settling on looking North toward Atlanta. "I took my mama to see a doctor outside Atalanta. A Neurologist. He started her on the medication, I remember he has a cabinet in his office- samples, lots of them." She looked so hopeful right then that he hated to even consider the reality of the situation.

"Atlanta's far… don't know what we'll find between here and there." It wasn't really that far but with miles of open road between here and there it seemed farther. Not to mention he didn't like Beth being here, let alone swimming in the sea of walkers that surely surrounded the city.

Beth bit her lip as she looked down. The thought of going back to the farm empty handed and listening to her mama cry out in pain made her chin quiver. If seeing Beth cry made his insides twist and churn; seeing her holding back tears, especially on the account of him, felt like a punch to the gut. Before he could stop himself he reached out cupping her elbow gently.

"We can do it, though, if that's where we need to go, we can do it." Instantly her face burst into a smile, and he knew in that moment that without a doubt he was screwed. Swallowing back the butterflies in his chest, he felt the need to add a small dose of logic as he nodded seriously. "First sign of trouble, though, we're gonna turn back." Beth nodded seriously, "Don't mean we're not gonna take care of your mama, just means we'll have to find another way."

Beth stood there staring at him like he just hung the sun in her sky. All smiles and gratitude, she looked at him like he was so much more than what he was. "You're a good man, Daryl Dixon."

He couldn't stop the blush from exploding across his face, down his neck, and setting his ears on fire. Looking down he grunted, not able to find his voice for much else. "Better get going… no telling how long this is going to take." Beth nodded her agreement, checking that her knife was secure on her belt and the machete was safely stowed. Daryl blinked his eyes and inhaled sharply trying to concentrate on the road ahead and not the feeling of Beth's thighs wrapped tightly around his. He was more than screwed, when it came to this girl he was totally fucked.

The engine of the motorcycle rumbled deafeningly against the silence of the empty buildings. The doctor's office wasn't in Atlanta, thank God, but just outside in a suburb called Forest Park right near the airport. Cutting the engine, Daryl pulled the bike in front of the building and pocketed the keys, both of them climbing off and looking around. Hartsfield-Jackson Airport was one of the busiest in the world, Beth remembering bringing her mama to this very office and the windows shaking almost non stop from departing or arriving airliners. Today, though, it was silent, the sounds of the motorcycle still ringing in her ears. Unlatching the machete and unsheathing the knife, she watched as Daryl did a sweep of the parking lot coming up with nothing. They were surrounded with buildings, all tall and obstructing their view. She could tell Daryl hated it, being penned in like this by a maze of concrete and metal. Truth was she didn't care for it much either, not knowing what was waiting for them and no idea where to run. Taking a deep breath she looked up, the building they needed to enter one of the tallest. If she remembered correctly, her mama's neurologist was on the ninth floor, it would be a long walk. That morning when they had left the farm Beth wore a pair of jeans and a green cotton shirt cuffed up at the elbow over a gray tank top. It seemed the sensible choice mixing protection with material that would breath in the heat. Now after spending the better part of the morning with her arms wrapped around Daryl's middle on the back of a bike she was sweating. Not that she would complain about having her arms wrapped around Daryl, just the opposite in fact, being that close to him was like heaven on earth. Just thinking about it all made a fresh sheen of sweat bloom across her face and down her chest. Ridding herself of the green shirt, she was down to a tank top, dark blue jeans, and a pair of work boots. It took her a moment to realize Daryl was staring at her and she felt herself blush giving him a soft smile in return.

She's caught him staring and he wanted to die. He was such a dope, drooling over a grown woman in a tank top and jeans. Quickly averting his eyes, he busied himself with adjusting the the crossbow in his sweaty hands. Thank Christ she wasn't wearing shorts right now because if he saw her bare, perfect thighs he might black out. His own ripped brown cargo pants were soaked with sweat as was the dark green sleeveless flannel he wore on top. Clothes that he'd bought himself on that first trip to Walmart in what seemed like another life.

"Office is on the ninth floor…" Beth looked up. Going to be a long walk. Daryl grunted his agreement as he tried the front door finding it open. She shrugged, the corners of her lips turning up in a hopeful smile. "Maybe it won't be so hard after all…"

They both stepped into a glass lobby that was even hotter than the outside,if possible. Daryl swept the lobby right to left before pausing and taking a deep breath, "You stay right behind me… we ain't gettin' separated." Beth swallowed hard and nodded, the gravity of the situation fully dawning on her and making a shiver run down her spine. Thankfully the lobby was empty save for overturned chairs, papers scattered on the floor, and a potted plant that was flipped and broken-spilling dirt all over the place. Beth's breath hitched in her throat several times thinking that a walker was about to jump out from a dark corner.

The stairs were near the elevators, as they should be, and they found them without any issue. They were, however, completely pitch black as not only the power but also the back up generators had died. They'd not thought ahead enough to bring a flashlight not anticipating more than a quick stop at the local pharmacy. A sliver of light peaked through from each landing and that was all they were going to get. Reaching out, Beth rested her palm again the small of Daryl's back. She felt him stiffen at the unannounced contact but then relax as he took a deep, steadying breath. "Stay close…" Beth nodded; as if she wanted to wander off right now.

They climbed the stairs, flight by flight, Daryl with his crossbow up and ready, Beth behind keeping one palm secured to him and the other wrapped tightly around the machete. The building was quiet, the street was quiet, everything was quiet; it was more than unsettling. By the time they reached the ninth floor they were both panting, needing a moment to catch their breath outside the door. There was no telling what might be on the other side and they needed to be ready for it.

"Daryl…" Beth could barely see his face in the dim lighting. Reaching out she put her hand on his forearm leaning into him. "Thank you for doing this." Letting the crossbow drop for just a moment, Daryl turned toward her.

He grunted and for a moment that was all she thought she was going to get. But then… "We're all we got now, Beth. You and me…" Beth's stomach clenched painfully. She loved him, she knew it a million times over but she knew right now without a doubt that she loved him. And the only reason she didn't tell him was because she was afraid of how he might react.

Daryl didn't wait for her to reply, he could see how she felt all over her face. And he felt the same, God he knew right then…and knew it a long time ago. He'd never be able to find the words to tell her how he felt, so he would just need to show her. And he would…he would show her every single day. His face burning hot, Daryl pushed the door open to the ninth floor spilling out of the stairwell and directly into the waiting room of a doctor's office. The Neurologist Office took up the entire ninth floor apparently, and much like the lobby downstairs this space was also dotted with chaos. Quietly, almost silently, they swept through the office. Beth remembered the pills were kept in a supply room near the back and that was where she went now not bothering to check any of the other rooms on her way. It was quiet…apparently deserted….and they were both eager to find what they wanted and get the hell out of here.

Daryl watched her go, content that she was within eye sight and safe. He hadn't learned much about the walkers but he did know that it was damn near impossible for them to be silent. So he was content to think that they were alone right now. Beth threw the cabinets open and gasped. They'd done it, the medications were here and ready for the taking.

"I found them !" Daryl couldn't help but sigh with relief. Letting the crossbow drift to his side, he walked casually toward one of the windows that faced north, toward Atlanta. Pulling the string of the blind he nearly stumbled backwards. The city was burning, fires everywhere and bombed out buildings. Cars piled up and wrecked on the expressway, a helicopter smoldering on a rooftop. Daryl leaned against the pane of glass looking to the left. Planes were parked crooked all over the runways, one in the grassy median, and another crashed through the terminal and burning. An ambulance overturned on the bypass, a firetruck in flames not far behind, and military vehicles abandoned in the street. Not much shocked Daryl, but the apocalyptic scene in front of him made him gasp. It was completely unreal.

Beth was too busy stuffing her pack to hear the shuffling. It was quiet at first but then it began to get louder with a hiss that caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. Turning quickly she was met face to face with a walker dressed in a white coat. The machete was on the floor and out of reach, abandoned in favor of looting as much medication as possible. Stupid mistake. So she ran, backwards into an exam room that wasn't clear either and before she knew it she was flat on her back screaming hysterically with two of them on top of her, their teeth gnashing and snapping just inches from her face. It took all her strength to keep them off of her, and there was no chance she could ever reach her knife. If Daryl didn't come…if he didn't hear her…if he himself was fighting them off right now too. She was dead. They would eat her face off and her mama and daddy would never know what happened to her. Rotting black blood dripped into her face as she pinched her eyes shut not wanted to watch it happen.

A ping and a twack. A ping and another twack. Both of the walkers went slack on top of her, their teeth receding back inside their rotting mouths. Beth let the air out of her lung with a moan. That was close…as close as it could be. Daryl was on top of her in two quick leaps pulled both of the walkers off and lifting her to her feet. She met his eyes and let out something between a whimper and a laugh, an awkward throaty sound. Adrenaline rushed through her body as she trembled from head to toe, her eyes still wide with fear.

Daryl took one look at her and without thinking pulled her into him, crushing her against his chest and feeling her shake with fear. Tucking her in closer, his hand planted firmly at her bra line, the other wandered upward settling on the back of her head. Using the pad of his thumb he rubbed circles in her hair soothing her the only way he knew how.

Beth felt his fingers in her hair as her fear melted into something else. A deep want, a need to be closer to him. Pulling her head back from his chest she tilted her face up and looked into his. The light was meager as it had been all day, slatted through blinds and buildings. There were two dead walkers at their feet and the building was sweltering hot. None of that mattered through, not right now…not for them. Threading her own fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck she leaned in and pressed her lips gently to his. He went rigid and tight, his fingers stilling with a handful of her hair. He held his breath, screwed his eyes shut, and for a second maybe even his heart stopped. But then something flipped inside of him and a dam broken, an absolute torrent of emotion that he couldn't stop.

And he kissed her back. Clenched that handful of hair, smashed her body against his, and didn't let go. He whimpered against their fused lips, fully aware of how pathetic he sounded but also not caring. Beth's heart raced as she felt Daryl respond to her. His lips were desperate, searching, needing. His hand gripped her so tight she was sure there would be a bruise tomorrow, but she didn't care. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him. They stumbled backwards into a row of cabinets, Beth's back slammed against the wall as she let her hands roam down to the hem of his shirt and up onto his bare flanks. He trembled at the touch but didn't resist, his own hands drifting down to her waist and up onto her flat abdomen. Although this wasn't the place or the time, the space between her legs ached with want as she pulled her top off leaving herself in nothing but her bra. Daryl gasped, their lips parting for just a moment as he looked down. He felt dizzy looking at her bare body, more beautiful than even he imagined. She wore a gray cotton bra with white lace around the edges. Before he could register what was happening she took his hands and guided them to her breasts, her lips coming back to his, her tongue slipping inside his mouth. Daryl groaned, he could feel her nipples rock hard though the bra and he imagined what it would be like to touch her naked breasts. He would be lying right now if he didn't admit that he was hard, painfully hard, his length straining against the crotch of his pants. He wanted to press himself into her, grind up against her and find the friction he so desperately needed. If he did that, though, there would be no stopping it. And it needed to stop.

Right Now

This was stupid, they were practically out in the open right now with no guarantee that this place or any other was safe. Not to mention whatever happened next was sure to embarrass him horribly. Pulling away from her lips he let got of her breast putting his hands on either side of her head against the wall. His chest was heaving, his heart was racing, but he had to force himself to stop right now. He had to force himself to put her safety ahead of anything he might want. And God…did he want it.

"Can't right now…gotta get some place safe…" His words came in halting breathless sentences. Beth exhaled a shaky breath herself nodding slowly. He was right, this wasn't the place. Still…she wanted him so damn much. Bringing a hand up to his face she rested it on his cheek as she nodded slowly.

"You're right." Finding her shirt she turned away from him collecting herself. Behind her, Daryl walked back toward the lobby his heavy breathing still barely audible. He wanted her though. Wanted her just like she wanted him. Beth's lips twitched into a smile.

"BETH !" It was urgent and it made all the blood in her body run cold. Slinging her pack and grabbing the machete she ran down the hallway stopping at the window where Daryl was looking out. Following his gaze she saw that the street was moving….moving for miles. It took a second to dawn on her.

Walkers.

Hundreds…maybe thousands and they were headed right for them.

TBC….

Hope that was a good first kiss for all those waiting patiently.

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