=:: CHAPTER ONE ::=

"NO!"

His eyes were brave and steady when they met hers for the last time across the prison yard. Senses heightened by the horror, she could see so perfectly those gleaming beads of crimson as they took to the air and caught the afternoon sun. She flung herself against the fence, screaming as she watched him fall. The Governor stood mercilessly over her father's body, a satisfied smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. Anger and sorrow filled her to overflowing. Without a moment's thought, she took up her gun and pulled the trigger, joining Rick in firing upon their rivals.

Beth awoke with a start. Her heart was racing as she tried to discern her whereabouts in the darkness. For a moment she couldn't remember anything that had happened after the attack on the prison.

"Beth?"

Daryl's voice reached her from across the room and brought her back to the present. The crushing present. Her father was dead, murdered, and she and Daryl had been separated from the rest of their makeshift family. For all they knew, Maggie, Glenn, Judith, Tyreese, Rick … all of them could be dead. Or worse, they could be Walkers. But Beth didn't believe that. She always hoped for the best and she believed they would find the others if they kept searching. They had to. She couldn't lose anyone else. No matter how tough she pretended to be, she had a tender heart and with every loss she felt the weight of survival grow ever burdensome. At what point would surviving be the worst possible outcome?

But she still had Daryl. Hard and weathered as he appeared on the outside, she knew firsthand that he was a good man. A great man, even. She had watched his walls come tumbling down when Baby Judith arrived in their lives. When Rick had given over to his despair and abandoned their group to wander the woods and the prison wings trying to make sense of his pain, Beth and Daryl had become caretakers to Baby Judith in their own separate ways. There was so much good in him, and it was beautiful, even if he couldn't acknowledge it himself.

Beth turned her head, her eyes struggling to adjust as they settled on Daryl. He was brooding in a corner, his face barely perceptible in the flickering light of a single candle.
"You alright?" he asked her in his gruff voice.

Beth propped herself up on her elbows. She couldn't quite meet Daryl's eyes. No- she wasn't alright, but she had to be. At least as far as the rest of the world was concerned.

"I'm fine." Beth answered softly.

Daryl studied her for several long moments, moving a piece of jerky round and round his mouth.

She rolled her eyes at him. "What?"

"You're not fine," he said bluntly. "You've been thrashin' and whimperin' on the floor for the last half hour like a rabbit caught in a snare."

Beth stood up with a dismissive grunt, her chin raised proudly. She had worked very hard to harden her outer shell to keep the outside from looking in and she hated that her nightmares had betrayed her. She had already had one moment of weakness in front of Daryl, crying like a child over a dusty boot on the side of the railroad tracks, but she needed to rein it back in. Her father was dead. Nothing would change that. And maybe he was the lucky one; he didn't have to fight tooth and nail to keep living in this world anymore.

Beth walked over to the boarded up window to peer through the slats. The moon cast a bright glow over the field in front of the funeral home, making it easy to spot the rogue Walker wandering aimlessly through the little graveyard. She only hoped the dog they had seen wasn't still hanging about.

"Not often they travel alone, these days…" She thought aloud.

Daryl stood up to join her at the window, his crossbow in hand. It was always in hand. Beth had come to see it as less of a weapon, and more of an extra appendage.

Having spotted the Walker, he grunted in agreement. "Yeah, I reckon they don't. Prolly a small herd of em' wanderin' the tree line not far behind... we'll take care of it in the mornin'. Have to keep this place Walker free if we expect to stay."

Stay.

Beth searched Daryl's face as he looked out into the night. He didn't share her faith, faith that the others had made it out alive. But even if they hadn't, could they really stay here together? Build some semblance of a life? She tried to imagine letting the others go, giving in to this new future, but the thought alone threatened to take the legs right from under her. She needed her sister to be alive, needed Glenn and Judith to be alive. Beth wiped her budding tears away quickly before Daryl could notice. Such thoughts would do no one any good, at least not tonight, so she pushed them away for the time being. The morning would shine its light on them again, no doubt.

"It's not the Walker's I'm afraid of anymore…" Beth said suddenly.

Daryl turned and met her eyes. "Whad'ya mean?"

Beth looked down at her hands. "There are good people out there, Daryl. I believe it with all my heart. But I also know there's bad folks- like the Governor. Maybe they don't mean to be… the world is a hard place now and it almost broke me in the beginning, so I don't blame em'… but the bad people are the ones that scare me. They're the real monsters. The Walkers, they're just mindless vessels, they ain't good or bad."

She looked up again at Daryl who had turned his attention back on the field. Lost in his thoughts, Beth braved to consider him longer. He wasn't one for being looked at, and she had never looked to him as more than a friend or even family; but now that it was just the two of them, possibly till the end, she had to regard him from that perspective. She found her own thoughts drifting into unknown territory. He wasn't exactly handsome in the traditional sense and he smelled like an animal, they both did, but there was potential there, if she considered him hard enough. He was primal and strong, and this made her anxious in ways she hadn't felt before. But he was tender, too. Like the way he took to Judith and always looked out for her, and this stirred her romantic nature. All of these things, she realized, made her want to be closer to Daryl. He kept himself so closed emotionally, but since they had been stranded together she had been able to create a crack in that hard shell of his. Something about him was drawing her in and she couldn't claim to be putting up much resistance.

But it's DARYL….

Maybe it had always been there though, lying dormant. Lord knew they had never had much time one on one back at the prison. Everyone had their jobs, going on supply runs, caring for Judith, thinning the Walkers, tending the garden… she had to admit that she had never even had the chance to consider Daryl as anything more. Not to mention, Daryl had about 20 years on her, so there had been little reason to. Besides, she had had more appropriate outlets for those kinds of feelings with Zach who had been closer to her in age.

Poor Zach.

But times were different now; you woke up each morning wondering if you would live to see the next one. There were so many things she had wanted to do with her life, so many things that were now lost to her. She didn't mean to dwell on those dreams, though. The important things, the ones that really mattered, she could still have. And she didn't want to wait any longer, not when each moment could be her last.

"Daryl?" Daryl's eyes continued to follow the listless Walker outside, but he acknowledged her with his usual grunt. "Daryl, you know how I didn't want to die without ever having a drink?"

He threw her a sideways glance. "Yeah…"

"Well, you made sure it was a proper drink and you made it… nice. I really appreciated you doin' that for me." Daryl shifted his weight away from her. She could tell that the sentiment was making him uncomfortable. But that was Daryl. She wasn't offended, nor was she going to let it become a wrench in her train of thought, so she plowed forward. "Well, there's something else. Something else I'd like to do. You know… before I die."

He looked at her now, eyes narrowed slightly. "Well, go on, girl. Spit it out." Beth's gaze fell to the floor and she began fumbling with her hands. Even in the dim candlelight he could see her cheeks flushing brightly. "Must be some request if it's got you too 'shamed to talk." He huffed.

Beth shrugged, trying to will the words. She didn't know how to say it.

"I ain't the goddamned Make A Wish Foundation, Beth. We're all on our deathbeds these days. We ain't runnin' all over Georgia tickin' off your little bucket list."

Daryl's insult snapped her out of silence. He knew immediately that he had riled her up proper and there was a fire in her eyes as she stepped toward him.

"It ain't like that, DARYL!" she said defensively.

"Then, what's it like, Beth? Out with it for cryin' out loud." Not one to back down, he stepped forward to meet her, fire and all. He gave her a hard look, and she accepted the challenge.

"I want to know what it feels like, Daryl."

She kept saying his name as if trying it out on a more intimate level. "Know what, what feels like, Beth?" Blondie wasn't making any sense. They glared into each other's eyes for some time, hardly an inch apart. Daryl could see it, the question bubbling up inside of her, about to burst.

"I want to know what it feels like to be with a man, DARYL."

Daryl's hard expression fell immediately and he took a stumbled step back. "A man… Beth- WHAT?"

She was all ablaze now, cheeks crimson with embarrassment as she threw her hands up, eyes looking anywhere but back at him now that it had been said. "I've never had sex, Daryl." It was harder to admit than she had thought it would be and she could feel tears welling in her eyes.

Daryl cringed at the confession, throwing himself away from her. "JESUS, BETH!"

What the hell was she thinking? Daryl immediately put as much distance between Beth and himself as he could manage and began pacing the far wall of the living room like an agitated animal, throwing her incredulous looks when he could bear to meet her eye. How could she ever think that, that was an appropriate thing to say to him? To ask of him? Why would she ever think that he might consider her in that way?

On the other side of the room, Beth's lip trembled as she tried to contain the hurt of such immediate and harsh rejection. She had made herself so vulnerable and he had looked nothing less than disgusted. He might as well have slapped her in the face.

"Well, say something, Daryl!" Her voice cracked with the question, revealing the wound, the utter humiliation.

Daryl stopped a moment and closed his eyes, trying to control his tone. "Beth, we're not talkin' bout this. We can't-" He began pacing again, his voice rising. For once his crossbow lay forgotten on the floor.

"Jesus, Beth-" he said again. "What the hell would your father think?"

With this question he had re-lit the fire in her. All shame was put aside.

"My father, Daryl, would be glad that his daughter was keepin' with someone like you. Someone good, who he trusted completely before he died. He would want me to live. And that's a part of livin'. I'm not gonna find no one else."

Daryl huffed at her, eyes harder than ever. "There's no way of knowin' that. And what about Zach? Jimmy? Surely you… ya know…" he shrugged.

"Nope, never. I wanted to; and came close a couple times, but Daddy had his rules and I was never one to stray too far from them. I'm not a child anymore, Daryl. I'm eighteen."

Daryl was in the corner now, a hand on the wall to support his weight. His head hung down, eyes on the floor and his reply was soft but firm. "No."

"Daryl, I-"

"No, Beth. This conversation's done."

He couldn't even look at her, so he didn't see the tears that leaked onto Beth's cheeks now, but they were more than evident in her voice.

"Fine. Just- fine!" She had no more to say. Gathering her wounded pride, Beth spun on her heel and made for the Chapel. Daryl could turn her down two hundred ways, but he sure as hell wouldn't be claiming any coffin comforts tonight. That pleasure would hers; if she could sleep at all. Passing through the doors, she slammed them behind her.

Daryl, his mind hurling through a sea of thoughts and confusion settled back into his corner after some time, staring hard at the Chapel doors.

After a while, muffled through the walls, a slow and sorrowful melody began playing on the piano; and Beth's voice, soft and sweet, accompanied. "I've heard there was a secret chord, that David played, and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music, do you"

Daryl leaned his head back and closed his eyes. It was going to be a long night.

***SONG LYRICS ARE FROM "HALLELUJAH" BY LEONARD COHEN, I DID NOT WRITE THEM!***