Before

They put a good distance between themselves and the shiner's shack, enough that they could slow down a little and walk at the sluggish pace their blood-alcohol levels wanted them to. She closed her eyes and threw her head back to breathe deeply, throwing her arms out wide and spinning in a circle. She popped her eyes open and lifted her head when he snorted. "Something funny to you, Mr. Dixon?"

"Yeah," he grunted back. "You're the least graceful ballerina I've ever seen."

She smiled widely at him and moved a little faster to catch up the steps she lost from her turn. She liked it when they were able to walk side by side, made her feel like less of a burden and more of a partner. "You ever see those twirly dresses little girls wear? The big poofy ones?" The look he gave her in the moonlight gave a firm no. "Mama used to buy them for us for Sundays. Well, for me, 'cause Maggie thought she was too old for it, and she probably was. But I loved them, never wanted to take them off, just twirl and twirl and twirl 'til I was red in the face and too dizzy to stand. That's what being drunk feels like."

He'd turned to look at her when she was talking and kept at it for a while before facing forward again. "You gonna keep going or what?" he said lifting his chin in the direction they were walking.

She let out a small giggle. "Gosh no, I'll fall over after two or three." They walked along in silence for so long after that he thought she was done for the night. But she had a habit of surprising him. "I asked Michonne to look out for some."

"Some of what?"

She looked over at him and gave the barest of smiles. "Twirly dresses," she told him. "I thought–I thought Judith would like them while she was learning to walk. Chubby little legs sticking out of a pretty dress," she said, looking a million miles away. "For Mika too. She's still young enough to like things like that. Lizzie's more like Maggie though, too old for frills and lace." Her face fell a bit. "I'd hope she'd find some. Not like they're a hot commodity these days," she tried joking, but it came out mournful.

He kept his eyes on her, chewing on his lip as he waited for this to go one way or the other. When she didn't say anything more he adjusted the strap of his crossbow on his chest and offered, "We can keep an eye out, s'long as they don't take up too much space in the pack."

The smile she gave him was brighter than the moon in the sky.

Now

He had started to spin around at the sound of her approach, but after she spoke she watched as he froze in place, still as if he'd met Medusa's gaze. Confused, like maybe he hadn't heard what he thought he did. Slow as molasses he finished turning around and blinked like he had dust in his eye before locking his gaze on her.

The entire forest stood still as they studied each other. If she wasn't so focused on taking in every new line on his face she would've remembered that she'd walked out of the house in just her sports bra and jeans, barely covered by the cardigan someone had thrown over her in the night that she slipped her arms into on her way out the door that morning. And who knew what was going on with her hair.

He looked older obviously, yet still the same. New scars just like hers but those same blue eyes. She wasn't sure either of them were actually breathing until the boy beside him spoke. "Do you know her, Daryl?"

The man in question blinked harshly and took a step back, turning to the boy. "You can see her too?" The boy just looked at him confused, as the man looked at him similarly before focusing on her again. "Am I dreamin?"

"No," she answered simply.

"Am I dead?"

The question made her mask slip just a little further than it already had, seeing his gaze again, but she held onto it for dear life. "No. Neither of us are."

He sucked in a breath and took a step forward before halting, unsure of himself. She could see the wheels turning in his mind and his face scrunched up. "Wha–," he breathed out, chest heaving before he started pacing. The boy began to look worried, head swiveling between the two adults. "What the fuck ?" he shouted.

Oh.

She should have waited. If she wasn't feeling ready before she opened her mouth then he was far, far away from coming anywhere close. And really it was fair considering last he knew, her corpse was rotting in a trunk 3,000 miles on the other side of the world.

He took another step forward before their attention was drawn to the rustling of leaves behind her. "Beth–Uncle Daryl!" the girl yelled as she rushed forward to wrap her arms around the man, not yet noticing his distress.

He hesitated to hug her back which instantly tipped the girl off that something was wrong as she loosened her arms to look up at the man. His face was a mess of confusion but neither of them had a chance to say anything before the blonde snapped. "Did you follow me?"

It was the harshest she'd spoken to Judith since her return and the young girl blinked in surprise. "I–"

Beth focused her emotions towards being mad at the child rather than the turmoil she felt when looking at Daryl. "Did you even tell them you were leaving?" she asked. "We need to get back. And your aunt is looking for you," she said, finally addressing the boy Daryl was with.

She spun on her heel and started to walk back the way she'd come without waiting for them to follow. They would, she knew. She barely got 10 steps before he came up quick from behind her and grasped her injured arm. She hissed as his grip dug into the wounds but he didn't let her go as he whipped them around so they were standing face to face. "What. The. Fuck." he growled at her. Her mask slipped as she gawked at him just inches away, pain and anger and shock all pouring from his glare.

They were once again frozen in place as he waited for some sort of explanation and she regretted every choice she'd made since the day she walked into that hallway with a tiny pair of scissors.

His fingers pressed into the burns on her arm that regained heat at his touch when a voice broke them out of their little bubble. "Daryl!" They both turned to see Michonne approaching from the trees, half scolding and half elated to see him. Her eyes flicking between the two of them seemed to put some things into place for him as he turned back to the blonde, eyes moving from his hand on her arm, to her face, before landing on her hairline and the scar that marked one of the worst days of their lives.

He released her suddenly and the lack of pressure on her arm made it start throbbing and he glanced at the family members from home and the one he found while away. Many things were happening at once that he'd need answers to, and soon, but his first instinct in the moment was to get away. He paced over to where his pack lay on the ground and motioned for the boy. "Come on." He took off into the tree, passing by Michonne as he headed in the general direction of the village, his protegee scurrying to catch up.

Michonne looked to her daughter who was just as confused as everyone else seemed to be. "Go, show them the way back," she looked at the motionless blonde. "We'll catch up." Judith knew better that to argue at the moment as she ran to catch up with the others.

The older woman walked slowly to the younger as if one wrong move would set her sprinting away until they were face to face. Beth felt more unsettled than she'd ever been as she met eyes with her unsure of what to do or say, still reeling from the longest 10 minutes of her life. Michonne spoke cautiously, and in a low tone "I don't what that was," she said referring to what she'd interrupted. "But when it comes to a head, make sure the kids aren't around to see it."

The blonde could do nothing but watch her walk back the way they came as she grappled with whatever had just happened.