Summary: She's half my age. She's the farmer's daughter. She's the girl that country singers sing about. She's somebody. And I'm a nobody.

Warnings: Language because well...Daryl.

She didn't know him. I mean, she knew him, but not like how he knew her. Not even close. Don't let this stalker like description throw you off, because Daryl knew how it looked like. If anyone knew. Don't get Daryl wrong though. He's not a pervert. In fact, he didn't even consider himself a pedophile. Well. Technicalities.

Daryl knew from the first time he saw her, she would be trouble. It was on a rainy Saturday night. He had gone to Dale's Grille N Things to get a beer. He was mid-swig when he heard her. Her soft, even sweet, voice. Her shiny blond hair shaped her face perfectly, her doe eyes cutting right through him. Something in Daryl jolted.

He didn't know why. He didn't even want to know why.

You see, Merle had passed away in an awful car accident last fall. Car accident. Daryl knew there was more to it. But before he could get the full story from Merle, it had already been too late. From then on, Daryl became a drifter. Moving from town to town, working for anything that would serve him well.

There was something different about King County, though. Something Daryl couldn't quite put his finger on. Until now.

Something in him told him that she would change everything.

Only thing is, how.

Daryl kept to himself most of the time. He avoided talking at all. Hardly ever did he let words escape his mouth. Ever since he was a kid, he learned that more harm is done when there are words involved. So, when Daryl was surprised by himself when he had asked Dale when the next night the blond-haired singer was going to sing.

Next Thursday. Thursday.

It seemed as if it were an infinity away.

Daryl knew what he was thinking was wrong. He knew she would never even think remotely close about him opposed to how he thought about her. How old could she even be, seventeen? Eighteen if it was Daryl's lucky day? Christ. He had never even talked to her. What if she was a total bitch? No. There was nothing about her that Daryl could see that would make her seem like a bitch.

Daryl knew he should've listened to his gut. To avoid her. To get in his truck and get the hell out of dodge.

But he doesn't.

It was Thursday night.

Work had felt especially long for Daryl that day, so he gets something a little stronger than beer. The taste felt sweet on his lips and made him close his eyes, letting his shoulders slightly go limp.

He waited for about thirty minutes until he hears her voice. She's singing something a little slower tonight, which Daryl appreciates. He looked up at the stage and took her in. Her hair's pulled back this time, a pony tail laying on her shoulder with a small braid tied also in it. He can see she's hardly wearing makeup, which makes him feel even more drawn to her. She's wearing a strapless creamy white colored dress that shows off her smooth and tan shoulders. As she's singing, Daryl's holding onto every last word.

I don't dance, but here I am

Spinning you round and round in circles

It ain't my style, but I don't care

I'd do anything with you anywhere

Guess you got me in the palm of your hand

Cause, I don't dance.

He swore he didn't plan this.

Daryl had just decided to take a smoke. After her set, he paid his tab and had gone out back to mull over everything. He swore he didn't know that she would be there. He swore that he didn't mean to beat up that sonuvabitch who was groping her while she was crying out for him to stop. He swore.

When he came out to take a smoke, he heard a muffled cry. Oh shit. He thought it was probably just some junky who liked it rough. But then he heard it again. A little more terrified. Daryl followed the sound of the muffled cry and that's when he saw her. He was pressed up against her. Even though it was dark, he could tell that she wasn't participating willingly. And when the moon's light shone through the trees, that's when Daryl knew. It was her.

Rage overtook him. He charged at the guy and once he wrestled him to the ground, he punched him once, twice, and then...he lost count. He felt her hands try to pull him back. He heard her cries to stop. But he didn't.

Daryl only stopped when he felt blood stream down his fist. And he knew it wasn't his. Once he stopped, the guy groggily stood up, eyes bulging, and didn't waste any time running away.

The girl was no longer screaming for him to stop or trying to pull him away. She was on the ground, her palms muffling her cries. This reminded Daryl of when he was a boy and his dad was beating up on him, except no one was there to save him. He guessed that's why he stepped up to help. Maybe it was because of the way his dad made him felt. Or maybe it was because of something else.

Daryl cleared his throat and said, "'m sorry." He wasn't apologizing for beating that guy up. He was apologizing for that she was crying. That something so bad had happened to her that made her pretty little face of hers shed tears.

Her head whipped up and even when he thought she couldn't look any more adorable, he was proven wrong. She breathed in and said, "Don't be, I should be thankin' you." Daryl's breath caught. Her voice up close was even better than the mic. It was like she could have said fuck you and he would still feel like she had the most amazing voice ever. She continued, "I was so dumb. 'shoulda known better that he wanted more than to just look up at the stars. Y'know my daddy used to take me lookin' at the stars. 'guess that's why I was so easy," she spit that word out with disgust, "to get out of the bar." Daryl shook his head. How the fuck could this girl blame herself?

"'s not your fault. 'his fault for being a jackass." She felt her chest vibrate from laughter. Daryl stared at her and took in that sweet smile of hers.

She kept that sweet smile of hers as she said, "I don't think I've ever laughed this close to a time of me cryin'. Thank you, Mr…?"

"Daryl. Daryl Dixon." Still had that sweet smile of hers.

"Nice to meet you. My name's Beth. Beth Greene," she stood up and said, "I don't think I've ever heard that name 'fore. You new in town?" Daryl shrugged. After a few seconds, Beth's voice cracked and said, "Oh Lord, that doofus was my ride home. My parents are gonna kill me if I'm not home by midnight."

Before even considering the consequences, Daryl said, "I can take you home, lil Miss Cinderella." Beth's mouth curved into a smile and hugged him. That nickname rolled off his tongue. That sudden embrace took Daryl off guard. He stood there uncomfortably until he let himself put one arm around her tiny frame. He, non-creepily, took in the sweet smell of her shampoo. Strawberry.

After they came apart, she told him she probably should get home. He led her to the car and opened the door for her. This night didn't go as planned. He didn't plan to go get that smoke at that particular time. He didn't plan to follow those muffled cries. He didn't plan to beat the guy up. He didn't plan to start a conversation with her. He didn't plan to tell her his name. He didn't plan to offer her a ride. He didn't plan to hug her. All her knew that this was only one night. He knew it was small and nothing would probably happen.

But it was a start.

It was definitely a start.

Note: I hope y'all like it! This hit me last night around midnight. The title is an altered quote from Cinderella. The original quote is: "A dream is a wish your heart makes." It's one of my absolute favorites. Anyway, please check out my other Bethyl and Brick stories! This will definitely take top priority right now. I just love this, and please tell me what y'all think about it!