AN: Thank you for the reviews! This is mostly unedited so please forgive any flubs. It all just came pouring out so I went with it.

...+++...

Beth is silent as they walk. They are all silent. For Morgan, for Daryl, and even for her silence is second nature by now. But she thinks it might be harder for the man who is accompanying them. Aaron's eyes are kind but curious and she has seen his gaze darting to her and Daryl's clasped hands more than once. Beth clings tightly to Daryl's broad palm. His skin is rough but surprisingly cool. She's afraid that if she lets go he'll disappear, that she'll be back in that long dark hospital hallway that plagues her dreams.

She glances over at Daryl's profile. His hair is even longer and there are heavy purple shadows smudged under his eyes. Briefly she wonders if she should say something, start to try to explain how she came to be here, what happened to her. He's already told her that Maggie is a live and Rick and even Judith, but she desperately wants to know more. Words come a little slower to her now; most of her memories are foggy, blurred. What she remembers before Morgan is shot through with flashes of pain and confusion. The wound on her forehead aches, a dull persistent throb that never really leaves. Sometimes it feels as if she's forgotten whole chapters of her life. She'll reach back for a memory that she should have like the sound of her mother's voice but often she only finds a blank space. The emptiness haunts her. Dark places full of shadows writhe and reach out for her even when she's awake. Beth often feels lost but some things have always remained crystal clear: the gentle curve of her Daddy's smile, Maggie's bright laugh, the feel of Daryl Dixon's hand in her own, the flash of his eyes in firelight. She squeezes his hand and smiles a little as he squeezes back.

They are walking down a paved road lined with ruined houses. A high metal fence set with a barred rolling gate is looming up before them and Beth's mouth goes dry. Her chest constricts as her breathing picks up. She is bound by the iron band of her own panic. Walls no longer make her feel safe. She's clutching Daryl's hand so hard that she's sure she's cutting off his circulation but he only returns the pressure and leans towards her. His lips brush the shell of her ear, " It ain't so bad."

The deep rumble of his voices soothes her nerves and she sighs as she feels the pressure in her chest lessen just enough so that she can breathe. The gate rolls back and Beth gasps at the surreal sight of perfectly manicured lawns and tall stately houses with brightly colored doors. There are flowers and lampposts and in the distance she can hear children laughing. The farther they walk the larger the houses become and Beth's eyes widen farther as Aaron waves to an old couple who are sitting casually on their front porch sipping what looks like lemonade. A woman walking a black lab approaches. The dog strains against it's leash trying to smell the newcomers and the woman pulls it back with an apologetic smile and a friendly nod. "Daryl they have dogs here," she whispers.

"They even got all their legs," he quips, smirking down at her but not before she sees a brief flash of pain in his eyes.

Beth steps closer to him. She feels as if she might float away if not for the strong tether of his hand holding hers. This place is absurd. It is so at odds with the one she knows that it feels like she has stepped onto a movie set and her mind struggles to cope.

There is a distant cry and the wild pound of boots on pavement. Suddenly she is enveloped by a pair of strong arms. Noisy sobs fill her ears and she can feel a flood of tears beginning to dampen her hair. Her hand is ripped from Daryl's and the loss of contact is a physical ache. Frantically she searches for him with her gaze and her rising panic ebbs as she meets his eyes. The corner of his mouth turns up in a gentle smile and she is finally able to return her older sister's embrace.

"Hey Maggie," she whispers. Her sister sobs even harder squeezing her so tightly that she fears her bones might snap. Glenn appears and pulls Maggie away. He presses a warm hand to her shoulder and she gives him a grateful smile. And then Carol is there in a terrible floral sweater that makes Beth chuckle as the older woman wraps her in a gentle hug. Michonne and Carl are next. Beth looks around for Tyresse but the big man is missing and Sasha is wearing Bob's army jacket. She doesn't need to be told that there has been tragedy. Noah comes hobbling forward to greet her with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. Rick appears last holding a miracle. Beth lets the tears come as she holds the little girl that she had sung too, played with, and rocked too sleep for over a year. She is reeling, flooded with so many emotions and memories that she feels like she might fall over. A strong hand splays across her lower back holding her up, lending her strength at the exact moment she feels like her knees might give out from under her. She leans into Daryl's warmth and straightens her spine as she hands a babbling Judy back to her father. There are others. A big red haired man with a mustache, two dark haired women, and a timid man with a mullet all come forward to be introduced. The man with the mullet starts talking to her about statistical averages and the likelihood of surviving a gunshot to the head before one of the dark haired women darts forward to pull him away.

Aaron steps up and says they need to go and see someone named Deanna. Nearly everyone protests, saying that it can wait, but Aaron insists and soon they are all walking down the flower lined road. They come up to a large house with a wrap around porch and a small blonde woman steps out surprise evident on her face as she surveys the crowd of people clustered on her doorstep. Aaron whispers into her ear and her expression changes to one of curiosity as her gaze lands first on Morgan and then on Beth.

"Morgan, Beth. Welcome to Alexandria," the woman intones spreading her hands before her. "My name is Deanna. I'm sure you must both be tired but if you don't mind I'd like to speak to each of you."

Morgan goes first. The rest of the group stands around chattering, asking her a thousand questions that she only has half the answers too. Daryl stands close behind her. They are not quite touching but he is nevertheless a warm presence at her back. Soon the group starts to drift away heading back to the houses they have been assigned. Even Maggie leaves, tasking herself with finding Beth new clothes and something to eat. Beth watches her sister walk away one arm cinched tightly around Glenn's waist.

Night is falling fast and a full moon is rising on the horizon. Only Daryl and Rick remain on the porch with her. She is exhausted and the persistent pain in her head is slowly amplifying, a pulsing throb that beats in time with her own heartbeat. The two men are looking at her with concern.

"Beth if you're too tired for this I'm sure Deanna can wait until morning to talk to you," Rick states and Daryl nods in agreement.

Beth is about to open her mouth to reply when the door opens and Morgan steps out followed by Deanna. She makes eye contact with the man who has been her companion for over a month. Morgan nods slowly at her and she lets the corners of her mouth turn up in a half smile. His reassurance is comforting.

"Beth. I won't keep you long. I know you must be tired." Morgan shifts out of the way and Deanna gestures Beth inside. Daryl moves forward at the same time she does and Deanna holds up a hand. "If you don't mind Mr Dixon I like to conduct the interviews privately."

"I mind," Daryl replies a hard edge to his voice as he stares at the much smaller woman in front of him.

Beth places a hand on his arm and does her best to ignore the little electric zing that pulses through her when she lays her palm against skin. "Daryl it's okay. I'll be fine." Daryl opens his mouth to say something else but she cuts him off. "I ain't going anywhere. I promise." She runs her hand down his arm and squeezes his hand. He shuts his mouth and nods. Giving him a gentle smile she allows Deanna to usher her into the house.

...+++...

Daryl sits alone in the hallway, head propped against the wall, idly chewing at his thumbnail. He feels more then a little foolish, sitting alone in the quiet house waiting for Beth to come out of the bathroom. She had smiled and gently pushed him back when he had inadvertently tried to follow her in twenty minutes earlier. He hadn't even been thinking, had been on autopilot, where she goes he goes. At this point he thinks he would follow her to the ends of the earth and jump off the edge if that's what she wanted.

A pair of legs appear in front of him and he looks up to see Carol standing over him holding a towel and a stack of clean clothes. "Thought maybe you'd want to take a shower too," she says dropping the pile in his lap. "Downstairs bathroom is free and there might even be hot water, unless Beth manages to use it all up."

Daryl grunts and shakes his head.

"I wasn't kiddin' about hosin' you off in your sleep," she teases.

Daryl shrugs a shoulder.

"You smell," Carol states bluntly, switching tactics.

"Don't see why you care."

"You wound me Pookie!" Carol presses a hand to her chest, pretending offense. "Truth is I don't care... but Beth might." She smirks down at him and Daryl glares up at her from behind the curtain of his hair. They stare at each other for a full minute before Daryl climbs to his feet grumbling. He hesitates turning to look at the closed bathroom door where they both can hear the shower still running. Carol's expression softens, as she places a reassuring hand on his arm. "She's not goin' to evaporate Daryl."

...+++...

Daryl shuffles into the living room, hair wet and clinging to his face. Beth's sitting on the couch staring into the flames of the gas fireplace. It is late and the house is silent except for the faint echo of Carl's snores from upstairs. "Hey," he whispers softly not wanting to startle her.

She turns and graces him with a small smile. Her hair is damp, drying into lose curls that frame her face is soft waves. She's wearing a pale pink hoodie that she's zipped up all the way to her chin. She is perfect. He blinks at her unsure, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He hadn't expected to find her here, figured she would have gone to her room already, had planned on just passing out on the couch like he usually did.

"I don't think I can sleep," she whispers.

"You must be dead on your feet," he replies and then cringes at his word choice as his eyes flit over the scars on her face.

She notices and brings a hand up to trace the mark on her cheek. "Not the most becomin'," she sighs breaking his gaze for a moment.

He shakes his head taking a few steps forward. "Make you look like even more of a badass."

She glances at him again, a little laugh escaping her. "Badass Beth Greene?"

His mouth turns up a the corners. "Definitely."

"Do you think..." her face softens and she hesitates biting at her bottom lip. "Do you think you could sit with me? Just until I can sleep," she adds on quickly.

He doesn't reply just moves to sit beside her on the couch, his thigh pressing into hers. He takes a deep breath and manages a glance at her, trying to still the erratic pounding of his heart. She is silent for a long moment and they both stare into the flickering firelight.

"It doesn't feel real," she murmurs.

"What don't," he rasps, even though he thinks he knows.

She shrugs. "This place." She peeks over at him, her eyes smokey in the dim light. "Bein' here with you. I don't want to go to sleep. I'm afraid if I do I'll wake up and it will all be a dream."

"I ain't going nowhere," he replies repeating her words from earlier in the night.

She smiles and leans in closer, bumping her shoulder into his. He makes room lifting up his arm for her to slide under so that her head is tucked against his chest. The movement was as natural as breathing and he thinks that he has never felt so content as he does now.

"Is this place as good as it seems?"

Daryl hesitates. "Don't know. Maybe."

"Deanna seems nice." He snorts and she swats at him playfully her fingers flicking at his thigh. "She does!"

"She don't like me."

"She doesn't know you."

"Well she don't trust me."

"I trust you," she whispers pressing closer to him. Her hair tickles his nose and his breath hitches in his throat as she moves to trace the red string still clinging to his left wrist. She glances up at him smiling, her lips hovering near his jaw. "You kept it."

He's not sure what to say so he just grunts and then shivers as her long fingers trace up and down the skin of his forearm.

"They took mine at the hospital, cut it off or something." Her voice sounds faraway, too small and timid for his liking. "Do you think...," she pauses but then presses on unsure, "Do you think Rick is going to wear the police uniform around all the time? I don't think that I can... it's just..." she trails off and then shrugs helplessly, words failing her.

A surge of anger flashes through him setting him on fire even as he presses her closer to him. If he could he would go back in time and shoot every one of those assholes. "I'll talk to him about it," he manages to say.

She glances up at him again and this time her soft lips press against his cheek. "Thank you."

The old familiar guilt is starting to press in on him as he looks down at her curled into his side. He can feel the self hatred beginning to bubble up in the pit of his stomach. She shouldn't be thanking him, shouldn't trust him, shouldn't be running her fingers over his own, definitely shouldn't be kissing his cheek or treating him like he's worth a damn. He had failed her, failed her so spectacularly that it made his head reel and his guts twist into knots. The only reason that she was here sitting beside him was because she herself was a goddamn miracle. A living breathing miracle and he wasn't worthy to lick her boots, let alone kiss her mouth which was all he could think about doing since he saw her in that field this morning. "You shouldn't," he blurts out harshly.

"Shouldn't want?" She's looking up at him again, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Shouldn't trust me."

Beth pulls away from him so that her gaze is level with his and he does his best ignore the cold that's seeping into the space that she had been filling. "What do you mean Daryl?"

He shakes his head looking down at his lap, shrinking in on himself and jerks his head away from her grasp when she tries to tilt his chin back up.

"Daryl look at me."

He refuses, staring resolutely at the floor.

"Please Daryl," she whispers, her voice laced with pain. It's her tone that makes him look at her. Her eyes are wide and luminous and he can barely stand to meet her gaze. "It's not your fault. None of it. Not one bit of it. You found me," she implores.

"I lost you," he croaks.

"But then I found you." Reaching down she touches the red cord on his wrist. "It tangles, but it doesn't break."

His head is swimming with a thousand different thoughts and his heart feels like it's jumped into his throat stopping up anything he might want to stay. He lets himself run his thumb over the scar on her cheek and then brushes his fingers gently across her forehead. She closes her eyes and leans into his touch. "You found me," he whispers.

She opens her eyes and leans in. He holds his breath as she places her lips against his own. It is soft and sweet and slow and it spreads lazy shimmering golden warmth into every part of Daryl Dixon's body. He feels like he's floating a mile off the ground as she pulls away and looks at him, brushing the hair off his forehead. "We found each other," she states simply.

He leans forward and pulls her to him, settling her into his lap and wrapping his arms around her small frame. He presses her face into the crook of her neck and breathes her in. "I missed you so bad when you were gone Beth Greene."