Dawn broke, its light a soft, yielding gold. It shimmered through the bare panes in Daryl's little window, casting a solitary square of buttery light across the middle of the bed and their entwined bodies. Beth admired the way the light bent: curving over her hip, stretching flat across the planes of Daryl's stomach, adjusting its angle as it climbed the wall on his other side.

The bed was an island of warmth and in it she felt loose and lazy, like a cat willingly trapped in a sunbeam. Daryl's imminent departure was a dark, snarly cloud looming over their entwined bodies but Beth steadfastly ignored it, listening instead to the steady beat of his heart under her ear and watching the weak, glittering beams of light push the darkness to the far corners of the room. In every breath that she breathed in and he breathed out there was a delicate, tenuous peace, and she was determined to soak up every drop before it was gone.

Daryl was the first to break the silence.

"I got something for you," he said. Beth smiled into the low rumble reverberating through his chest and tightened her hold across his waist.

"You're the one who's going away. Aren't I supposed to give you the present?"

His fingers trailed whisper-light down her back, a trail of goosebumps sprouting on her bare skin in their wake and he chuckled. "You did," he said.

Beth's smile widened as moments from the night before flashed through her mind. A warm, rosy flush that was equal parts embarrassment and desire spread over her cheeks.

Reluctantly she sat up and he reached behind her, his long arm stretching across the narrow mattress and digging around in the nightstand drawer. He sat back up and in his hand was a circular strip of something brown.

"I, um… made it," he said, depositing the object into her open palm. "For you. Since you never got your other ones back at the hospital."

It was a bracelet made of soft, chestnut colored leather. Daryl had cut the original piece into strips and woven it together to create a seamless braid about an inch wide, securing the ends with a simple slipknot that would tighten or loosen the bracelet as needed. The handful of bracelets she'd taken to wearing after her half-hearted suicide attempt had not been returned with her street clothes at the hospital. Beth suspected they had been filched by a cop or two hoping to use them to woo their unwilling victims. The bracelets themselves weren't anything special, merely a means of covering up something she would rather forget. However she'd grown used to their presence on her wrist and missed the weight of them sliding up and down her arm.

Beth trailed a finger over the smooth ridges. She could feel his fingers weaving it together, the care and intention in each cut and knot. A golf ball sized lump rose in her throat. No one had ever done anything like it for her before, and the thoughtfulness of the gift momentarily erased any and all words she could think to say.

Beside her Daryl shifted and mumbled down at his lap, "It ain't… I mean you don't have to wear it."

She fixed him with a look. "Stop."

Beth slipped it on and turned her wrist for Daryl to pull tight over the thin red scar. The gentle weight of it on her skin made her feel safe, like a part of him was right there on her wrist. Before he could pull away she entwined their fingers and pressed the back of his hand to her lips.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Daryl bit the corner of his lip and nodded before letting their joined hands fall to the bed. Beth leaned forward, her heart swelling with love for him, and their lips met, tangling in a slow, lazy kiss.

She would have been perfectly content to sit there kissing Daryl in his bed for the rest of her life. But no sooner had the thought drifted through her mind than three short raps on the bedroom door accompanied by Carol's muffled voice broke them apart.

"Daryl, Aaron said to tell you he'll meet you at the gate in ten," she said. "And don't even think about sneaking out of here without eating something. I heated up some breakfast for you; it's on the counter by the sink. I'll be back in fifteen minutes and I expect to see an empty plate in its place when I go back in there."

She didn't wait for a reply and her quick steps faded down the hall. Daryl rolled his eyes.

"Well," he said when the quiet had resumed.

Beth gave his hand a squeeze. "Okay," she replied.

They dressed in silence, exchanging shirts and socks and underwear scattered thoughtlessly across the floor the night before. Beth sat on the edge of the unmade bed, her eyes following Daryl around the small room as he prepared his pack and his bow. She clutched the still warm sheets in her pale hands, trying to keep the ache of sadness spreading throughout her body from showing up on her face.

She had thought, having said and done everything she could possibly do or say the night before, that she would feel more prepared, more willing to see him go. But she wasn't.

Down in the kitchen Carol had prepared last night's leftovers for Daryl's breakfast, a plate of lukewarm, peppered venison shredded in a heaping pile alongside fancy, whole grain crackers from the community pantry. Beth watched with a bemused smile as he shoveled the meal into his mouth with his fingers, ignoring the fork and napkin entirely. When his back was turned at the sink, Beth slipped three of Carol's beet and acorn cookies into a wrinkled paper bag and tucked them away in his backpack, knowing he would refuse them if she handed them to him directly.

Daryl had parked his newly assembled bike at the curb in front of the house. It was a fearsome looking bike with fat tires and a red leather seat. Beth supposed it was less elegant than the chopper he'd had back on the farm, but there was a kind of beauty in how all of its mismatched and unpainted parts came together so cohesively. Like they were made for one another. The fact that it looked like it could be driven through a tornado was also an added bonus.

Frost clung to the tall grass and crunched under Beth's boots as they made their way across the lawn toward it. Daryl wrapped his hands around the handles and kicked the stand up with his heel. To her surprise, he proceeded to push the bike in the direction of the front gate rather than mount it. She walked along on the other side, pleased with the extra handful of minutes the slower method of travel gave them.

Birdsong filled the air as they made their way through Alexandria's quiet, empty streets, the cheerful sound at odds with the stormy feelings building in her chest. The crisp air burned her lungs and, thinking longingly of the warm bed they'd just left, Beth shivered. She hoped it would warm soon, otherwise Daryl was going to freeze.

They were the last to arrive; Eric was there with Aaron, as well as Rick, Deanna, and her sister. Together the five of them poured over a beat up map, listening intently as Aaron explained the decided upon routes and contingency plans she assumed he and Daryl had made together. Their eyes lifted as Beth and Daryl approached and Rick nodded in greeting, but the little group left them alone.

They came to a full stop. For a moment Daryl focused solely on his bike, kneeling down to give it a final once over and tightening the straps of the bags under his seat. When he was finished he straightened out of his crouch and made his way around the bike toward her. Beth stepped into his open arms, grabbing fistfuls of his jacket and burying her nose into the layers of leather and flannel covering his chest.

"Be safe," Daryl said.

Immediately tears welled in her eyes and she screwed them shut to keep the tears from falling. Of course he would tell her to be safe when he was the one risking his life by leaving. She raised herself up on her tiptoes and kissed him hard and long, not caring in the least who saw or what they thought about it. Her only thought was to make it count, hoping he couldn't taste the sadness on her tongue.

Behind her the inner gate rattled as it was slid open and the car's rumble broke through the quiet, the final signal that their time was up. Beth reached up to brush the hair out of his eyes-the motion familiar and oddly comforting-and bit her lip.

"Come back to me," Beth said, her voice soft and hoarse with emotion.

Daryl nodded, a silent promise. He leaned down for another kiss, his fingers curling tightly around the back of her neck. Before she could lose herself in it he was gone, turning away from her and pushing his bike to join Aaron at the gate. Empty of him, her hands flexed at her sides.

No one paid her any mind as she scampered up the main gate's watch post, the rickety ladder creaking softly under her weight. Below, Daryl finished his goodbyes and swung his leg over his bike. It roared to life under his hands and Beth couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, her dark, surly man, god of oil and rubber and muscled metal.

She watched him drive off behind Aaron's rusty red car, pieces of his patchwork bike glistening in the early morning sun. Already she could feel the hole he'd left behind, a cocktail of worry, fear, and longing surging inside of it as he drove off, growing smaller and smaller while the growl of his bike faded like an echo into the surrounding woods. She felt for the bracelet newly tied around her wrist, grazing her fingertips over the ridges of the braid, assuring herself that he would come back to her. Because he always had before, because he loved her. Because this time he'd promised he would.

With a sigh she stole a quick peek at the community behind her. The sky was soft and pale, like old, yellowed lace, and the sun shone off the uniform grey rooftops and through the bare branches of the surrounding trees. On the ground individuals walked the streets with purposeful steps as they headed to their respective meetings or jobs, some holding mugs that trailed wisps of steam behind them, others with their hands shoved in the warmth of their pockets.

Beth knew she should join them. After all there were lesson plans to prepare and children to teach, wounds to mend and meals to cook, the ratio of tasks to minutes in the day quickly growing more and more uneven. She offered up one last glance to the road in front of her to find Daryl was no bigger than her thumbnail before squaring her shoulders and beginning her descent down the wall.

Today was a new day, and a gift she refused to squander.

Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed this story. It was so much fun to write, and I really enjoyed hearing what you had to say about it. I hope you're satisfied with the ending!

A sequel of sorts is in the works, although it is in the beginning stages and not in any kind of concrete shape. But keep an eye out for it. (:

Until next time,

kaitiebee