Walking Dead 1. 11:26 PM

**God Almighty, this idea kept me up half of the night! I just felt so strongly about it, I was practically dreaming about it. It's my first Bethyl AU, hopefully y'all like it.**

**Here goes nothing !**

**Song credit - Blues, You're A Buzzkill - Pistol Annie's **

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_How To Save A Life_

_Chapter One - "11:26 PM"_

Each year when the summer rolls into the town of Riverdale Georgia, one could argue that the heat radiating from the sun in the afternoon sky would make just about anyone think that they were beginning to lose their mind; And when that summer heat did in fact roll around, usually during the final weeks of March, it brought equally horrendous thunderstorms right along with it.

Being that this particular evening was well into the month of July, it was no surprise that the sweltering heat from the day had worn off, and the evening storm that had been brewing in the distance had begun to blanket itself over the town of Riverdale.

This day, just like the ones before, began just as any other ordinary day would have.

The sun would rise early on into the morning just as alarm clocks would begin to go off, the residents would then likely turn on the weather channel or the local news, perhaps have a cup of coffee or two before beginning their day, even.

The small shops off of the Georgia 85 highway would open, The yellow school zone lights of Lake Ridge Elementary would begin to flash around 8:30, and a certain Riverdale resident by the name of Daryl Dixon would arrive at Merle's Auto Garage for work just as he did the day before at 9:00 sharp.

That's how things always were, and that's how things had been for a very, very long time.

With that being said, the only difference between this day and all of the days before for Daryl was the string of events that followed immediately after his dashboard clock had struck 11:26 PM.

"Go fuckin' figure." Daryl muttered under his breath, reaching blindly at the passenger side floorboard for some sort of cloth to wipe the fog off of the inside of his windshield.

As if driving in the rain wasn't hard enough, the windshield was fogging as the cool air on the outside of the truck fought for dominance against the heat that had been trapped on the inside of the vehicle; It had sat in the parking lot all day while Daryl worked, in direct sunlight as it was assaulted for hours by the relentless Georgia heat.

And if that wasn't bad enough, his old and worn out windshield wipers weren't helping the situation at all. It was clear that it was becoming damn near impossible to see anything in front of him.

He then found himself suddenly regretting his earlier decision of going to the bar to throw back a few beers when his shift had ended. His alcohol induced haze was only making him frustrated and it was making the situation at hand even more difficult.

But at the same time, Daryl Dixon being intoxicated behind the wheel of an automobile was not anything out of the ordinary.

Truth be told, drinking wasn't a new concept to Daryl. Not in any way, shape, or form.

Alcohol laced evenings at different bars in town after work were incredibly frequent to him, and usually the nights would start before the sun even went down just as his brother and himself clocked out of work.

These said nights usually dwindled down in the early hours of the next morning, most of the time consisting of copious amounts of cheap whiskey, endless bottles and cans of Budweiser, sex with a nameless and blurry faced woman, and where Merle was concerned - drugs.

When Daryl managed a brief glance at the dashboard radio's digital clock, and saw that the current time was only 11:26 PM, he really came to realize just how different things had become. Lately things just weren't the same anymore. Not after the morning following New Years Eve. After he had found Merle deceased on the bathroom floor from an apparent self-induced yet accidental heroin overdose.

He couldn't remember the last time he had left a bar on a Friday night as early as he apparently had this particular night. And he sure as _hell_ couldn't remember the last time he ended up not completely shit faced drunk and completely inebriated on a Friday night, either.

So, almost as if it were a Dixon family ritual, rather than simply coming to terms with and dealing with the death of his brother like a normal fucking human being, he turned to the bottle in a pathetic attempt to solve his problems, and chase away these new demons as well as the old ones.

_"Good evening Riverdale, hope everyone's enjoying their Friday night! We have quite the storm going on right outside of the studio right now," _The voice from the radio chimed it's way through the static and into Daryl's ears.

_"Stay dry everyone!"_

Daryl crinkled his nose in annoyance, still leaning over his center console with only his left hand gripping onto the steering wheel, hoping he had a shop towel laying down there in the mess of cigarette boxes and empty beer cans.

_"As always, thank you for choosing 107.9 Real Country, and here is your number one requested song of the evening; Blues, You're A Buzzkill by Beth Greene."_

At that sentence, Daryl narrowed his eyes and glared at the dashboard radio as if it had insulted him. The _last_ thing he needed right now was having to listen to some hoity-toity blonde chick singing about her ex-boyfriend or some stupid shit along those lines. He could kick himself for even turning the radio on in the first place, mostly because it seemed as though every time that he did, he ended up stuck listening to this fuckin' Beth Greene creature.

_"That's right, Darcy!"_ A male voice chimed in right after, _"Her show at the Georgia Dome in Atlanta last night was absolutely incredible! I have to say, Darcy, I was impressed."_

_Must be nice,_ Daryl thought bitterly just as his hand somehow managed to locate a shop towel buried underneath the passenger seat.

He shook the dirt off of the cloth and reached up to begin wiping the condensation away from the glass as best as he could. Once he managed to wipe most of it away, he realized fairly quickly that even though the fog problem had been resolved, he still had to strain eyes in a feeble attempt to focus on the road in front of him.

His knuckles were beginning to turn white as he tightened both hands around the steering wheel, all the while feeling himself become more and more agitated as the minutes passed.

The fact remaining; he _still_ couldn't see a god damn thing.

After pressing himself forward and closer to the steering wheel in yet another desperate attempt to see the road ahead, he was suddenly way too aware for his liking, and current mood for that matter, of the voice of the young singer as it flowed through the speakers.

_"Jack Daniels can't swallow you whole. Hey, Blues, you're a tough act to follow."_

_"Ain't no needle that can kill the pain that I feel, no smoke can clear all this air. Hey, Blues nothing comp-"_

Daryl smacked his hand on the power knob of the radio with yet another pointed glare at the thing, effectively cutting off the singing that was irritating the hell out of him.

At that very moment, the flooded area around the gutters on the side of the road pulled the truck's right side tires towards the concrete sidewalk a few feet away. The truck veered to the right and the front wheel came into contact briefly with the curb on the side of the road.

He jerked the wheel to the left, trying to get the truck back between the white lines of the road while his right foot pressed itself on the break pedal by reflex.

As the vehicle slowed down, he groaned loudly as he started to come to the realization of what had just happened. He listened to the all too familiar and dull hissing noise as the front right side of the truck dropped ever so slowly.

He blew his fucking tire.

"Mother fucker!" He hissed through his clenched teeth, slamming the gear of the truck into park; And as fate would have it, only then did the torrential downpour slowly start to subside. Of fucking course, he thought as he angrily grasped the door handle and pushed it open, now it stops raining.

"Jesus Ch- perfect. Fuckin' perfect!" He all but shouted, kicking the deflating rubber of the damaged tire with the front of his work boot repeatedly.

He suddenly felt like he was on fire, a furious and absolutely livid rage taking over him as he continued his assault on the inanimate object, shouting obscenities to the truck and to the sky, letting loose his frustrations, alternating between his left and right foot to hit the damn thing over and over again.

After a few minutes of meaningless physical exertion, he tore himself away, running his hands through his hair that was completely soaked in sweat, pacing momentarily until he found himself pressing his head and his hands to the metal of a guard rail.

He winded down from his outburst slowly; Attempting to even out his breathing pattern, calm the hell down and collect himself. After a few deep breaths, he let himself lift up his head to take the time to asses his current surroundings, realizing only then just where he was at exactly.

He was at the bridge of Emerald Creek, standing on the old and narrow structure that was above the little body of water and surrounded by a dense and heavily wooded area that he usually hunted in, only two miles away from his house, give or take.

With an exasperated breath, he forced himself to walk over to his passenger side door for his tool kit, knowing he still had a spare tire in the bed of the truck for this very reason. He reached his hand out towards the rusted metal of the door handle, but retracted it, turning himself to face the wooded area and the creek when some sort of muffled noise caught his attention.

He wasn't sure at first exactly what it was. Aside from the few noises coming from the woods that consisted mostly of shrubbery being jostled back and forth by the wind, and the noises of the nighttime insects, he heard nothing out of the ordinary. He shook his head, briefly entertaining the thought that he was just starting to hear things.

He reached for the door handle again, yanking it open and retrieving the tool set and the manual jack from underneath the seat, slamming the door back again.

That's when he heard it for the second time, but unlike last time, he was able to make it out.

"Help.."

A weak voice was coming from the distance, and he wasn't exactly sure where from. He dropped the tools to the ground and walked over to the railing of the bridge. He stuck his head out and over the side of it, searching the river on the right and the left, scanning his vision over the wooded area until he cast his eyes slightly downwards.

He felt as though someone had knocked the wind right out of his chest as his eyes locked on the mangled black and silver metal off to the side and below him. The structure of the bridge made it so that the car was completely out of sight of the road, had Daryl not have blown his tire and stopped, he was almost certain he wouldn't have seen it, and would have just kept on driving.

"Help.." The strained female voice repeated.

The voice was clearer this time. Still weak and frail sounding, and by the looks of what was left of the vehicle down there, he was surprised that whoever was down there was even alive.

He jerked his head to the left as he tried to figure out what to do, his eyes then locked on a set of clear skid marks on the pavement that curved back and forth until they disappeared off and into the grass. The ground was covered in tiny Shattered fragments of glass, almost glittering in the reflection of the moon in the sky.

His initial thought was to just leave. He thought about just changing the tire and taking off. He thought for a moment that whoever was alive down there probably should not have survived anyway, and he thought for a moment that it'd probably be best to just leave well enough alone.

But he couldn't do it. A small voice of reason in the back of his head that he very rarely took into consideration simply wouldn't allow him to.

After a long moment of feeling as though he was frozen where he stood, he finally picked up his feet, almost tripping over himself a few times as he made his way to the vehicle that rested at the bottom of what might as well have been a ravine.

He dropped to his knees on the ground as he approached the side of the contorted car, trying to speak the words that had managed to somehow become lodged and strangled in his windpipe.

"Are ya alright?"

Daryl fought the urge to slap himself across the face, instantly regretting his incredibly shitty choice of words the second they came out of his mouth. _Seriously? Of course she's not fuckin' alright! H_is mind all but screamed at him.

"Oh-oh thank God," the woman said softly, sounding somewhat relieved even though it was clear to him that she was having difficulty breathing. Her words sounded strained, and her breathing was almost as ragged as his had been just a few moments ago.

Daryl clamped up again, unable to find the right words to say, honestly not trusting his voice at all to speak to the woman who he wasn't even sure would survive whatever the hell had happened to her and the car she seemed to be trapped inside of.

The car had somehow managed to have come to a complete stop in the upright position, all of the tires seemed to have been destroyed or ripped completely off and the roof of the car had been crushed downwards. The side mirror was nowhere to be found, and the glass of the drivers side windows, along with the windshield were completely blown out. But those things were not the most concerning to him, what was though, was the front end of the car itself.

The front end of the car was crushed in so badly that he wasn't even sure where the inside of the car started or where it ended. Daryl had seen cars come into the repair bay at his work completely totaled much like this one before. Usually front end damage to _this_ extent was almost always fatal to the driver of the car, the force of the impact would send the engine and other parts of the front end into the cab of the vehicle very quickly and very roughly.

On his hands and knees, he crawled over to the woman, peering through the space where the window used to be, tentatively moving pieces of debris out of the way as easily as he could manage to.

"What happened?" He asked as he pulled a large chunk of the grass that had somehow managed to get stuck in there out of the opening, slowly focusing on what appeared to be one of her limbs, whether it was her leg or her arm or something else entirely, he wasn't exactly sure.

"I-I- I don't know, it was raining and I lost control of the car and I spun out." She said, hissing as something unknown to him made her cry out painfully. "I don't remember anything after that," another pained groan escaped from her mouth, "I must have blacked out"

Daryl took a deep breath, trying to remain as calm as he could for her, but he couldn't help but start to feel like he was about to lose it, finding himself unable to stop his hands as they shook uncontrollably.

"What hurts?" He asked, pulling a piece of un-identified metal out, now able to make out that the part of her skin that he had seen in fact was her arm, pale and marred with small streaks of blood running all the way down to her fingertips.

"My head," she groaned, "Jesus Christ, my head. My side too- it-it- feels like it's on fire. Oh my god." The finality of her sentence became lost and incoherent as she sobbed. If Daryl wasn't already uncomfortable and about to lose it before, he definitely was now. He'd never been good with people who cry. Women, children, customers, you name it. The only thing stopping him from running at that very moment was the fact that he couldn't see her face and she couldn't see his, as it seemed to be blocked by some of the debris lodged inside the car.

He couldn't tell this woman she was going to be okay, mostly because there was no way in hell to know if she was making it out of this alive. In that moment, he was regretting the fact that he didn't own a cell phone because calling 911 was probably this girl's best shot at surviving this.

"Girl, listen to me." He said, pulling yet another piece of mangled metal out of the car. "I ain't got no phone, I'm gonna go up to my truck so i can get ya some help, I can't get ya outta here alone."

"_No_! Please don't leave me here alone!" She cried, her small arm reaching out blindly at him until it came into contact with his wrist and she grabbed it as tightly as she could manage to.

"The engine's wrapped around ya, I can't get ya out of here, not by myself." He said with an exasperated and shaky breath, hoping she would agree. However, it didn't have its desired effect because she only responded by gripping his wrist even tighter.

"It's dark-I-I can't see anything. Please don't leave me alone down here, please." She pleaded, desperately begging him to not go.

As it were, he didn't have many options to choose from on where to go from here. He could either go up and change the tire on his truck so he could drive and get her some form of help, or he could stay with her until another car came down the road.

Option number one wasn't any more appealing than option number two, mostly because if he _did_ decide to leave her here and she succumbed to whatever injuries she had sustained from this crash, the girl would die alone and in the dark, terrified.

That notion alone brought Merle's face into his mind, knowing that his brother had died that way. Alone. That wasn't something he wanted for anyone to have to go through, let alone this poor woman, even though he didn't know who she even was.

"Alright." He reluctantly agreed, noticing that the grip on his wrist relaxed ever so slightly at his words. He dropped his head down, shifting to lean his back against the metal of the car.

"Thank you." The woman sniffled quietly, dropping her hand away from his wrist. "I'm Beth."

"Daryl." He offered in return, running one of his hands that continued to shake through his long dark hair.

He knew what she probably wanted to hear. It was likely something along the lines of that she'd be okay, or that he was going to help her get through this, but he couldn't do that. He couldn't bring himself to lie to the girl and promise her something that he wasn't sure was even going to happen himself.

"Stay awake, Beth." He replied finally, "Ain't gonna leave ya here alone. I ain't goin' nowhere."


	2. What I Miss

**Um okay, first of all thanks for all of the follows and favorites! You guys are awesome.**

**Also, this story is going to probably be about 10-13 chapters long, with a sequel to follow it. I have about seven of the chapters of this story completed already, just going to do some minor proof reading and editing before I post them. **

**Also, for those of you that continue to send your immensely kind words to me about my current predicament outside of the fan fiction world, please know that it's appreciated more than you'll ever know. You guys are keeping my chin up. Thank you, thank you, thank you! **

**Alright! Now, on to chapter two...**

**-Stephanie**

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_How To Save A Life _

_Chapter Two - Similarities_

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_"Happy new year!"_

_Daryl lifted his eyes to the direction of the voice he heard, his eyes finding a man that was likely somewhere around his age flailing his arms around like a damn lunatic, pointing at the bartender with a sloppy and drunken grin on his face._

_"Shots for everyone!" He slurred, "On me!" The group of men that were huddled around him cheered and yelled at each other back and forth, and as annoyed as Daryl was at their unnecessarily loud and obnoxious voices, he couldn't argue with free liquor even if he wanted to._

_Daryl tried to read the time on the large analog clock above the exit door of the bar he was currently at, and had been for at least the past six hours. Struggling with great difficulty, he narrowed his own drunken eyes in on the hands of the clock, coming to the conclusion that it was getting close to 1:00 AM._

_He had been dead on his feet by the time he was done working, his shoulder muscles ached something awful, and it seemed as though every damn customer that decided to come in on that particular day had managed to have an even shittier attitude than Daryl did himself._

_But that still didn't stop Merle from dragging his ass over to Ed's Tavern for the fifth night in a row, despite how worn down he knew he looked to everyone._

_He looked back to the bar top, lifting the clear shot glass and swirling the whiskey that was inside of it around a few times before throwing it back. He wasn't sure how many he'd had by that point, but honestly, he had stopped keeping track of it after he took his third one._

_Ed's Tavern was where Merle and Daryl usually ended up most nights anyway, being that it was only a block north of the auto shop, and owned by Ed's late wife Carol Peletier, whom also happened to be their neighbor for as long as he could remember._

_Not long after the death of his old man had Merle and Daryl moved here, leaving the town of Senoia in a cloud of dust and leaving all their awful childhood memories behind._

_Luckily on this night, Carol herself was the bartender, to which he was thankful because it saved Daryl from having to listen to Merle as he degraded the women at the bar, and ran his mouth about God knows what. He heard enough of his God damn mouth everyday at the garage for eight hours on end to begin with, and by the time he walked out of the shop he rarely was in the mood to deal with, and/or listen to his voice._

_He loved Merle, more than he'd ever loved anyone or anything in his entire life, but even that didn't change the fact that Merle happened to be the most disrespectful and unlikable person that lived in Clayton County._

_Merle had made a name for himself in this town, and Daryl too unfortunately pretty quickly after moving here all those years ago. Not that Daryl did anything to warrant such assumptions, though. He was guilty merely by association and blood relation. He'd have to be a damn idiot to not know that people in this town heard the last name Dixon and went running in the opposite direction._

_Merle had no shortage of enemies; Ranging from just people he simply managed to piss off in one way or another, or someone he had screwed over at some point in time. In turn, those enemies became Daryl's enemies as well. Most people didn't understand why, Carol being the one at the top of that list, that he always had his brothers back and bailed him out of every single stupid and asinine thing that he did. But quite frankly, if he were to be honest with himself, he didn't understand why he did either._

_"How's everything going, Daryl?" Carol asked him, stirring him away from his thoughts._

_Carol had been there for him ever since he had moved to Riverdale with Merle around the age of 25. Carol had lost her husband a few years before they had come to this town, but he knew the horror stories that she had shared with him about the physical abuse she endured from him. Daryl didn't bother to hesitate telling her that Ed would be glad he had died before Daryl had gotten here. Had he not have been, Daryl probably would be in jail for killing him himself._

_Physical abuse was something that Daryl was more than familiar with, his experiences with his father alone were bad enough; But lying your hands on someone you vowed to take care of and love with your whole heart? That was something Daryl wouldn't and couldn't understand for the life of him. All hearing about Carol's past experiences did for him was further confirm his thoughts that everyone on this god forsaken planet were awful and sick fucking people._

_"Fine." He grumbled back to Carol, trying not to notice Merle's staggering and swaying figure as he attempted to play a game of pool. Carol glanced into Merle's direction, clearly catching Daryl's eye._

_"I can take you two home after my shift, if you like." Daryl looked back to her, feeling immediately annoyed at the disheartened look on her face._

_It was the same damn look that she gave him from time to time whenever Merle was causing some sort of commotion. Making Daryl feel like some kind of fucking charity case. Daryl Dixon was many things, but weak, he was not._

_"Ain't you a peach." He ground out, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and roughly putting cash on the table, dismissing Carol right along with her concern._

_Of course, Carol had become quite accustomed to Daryl's brash and unnecessarily rude attitude, so she merely brushed it off like she usually did, quickly retrieving Daryl's change from the cash register and returning to him._

_"He's your brother," she began, placing the change in front of him, "but he's not good for you."_

_He decided to stop giving Carol attitude, knowing deep down that her intentions never were to belittle him in any way, and simply nodded his head, placing the change back in his wallet and returning it to its place back in the pocket of his jeans. He then was aware of Merle approaching out of the corner of his eye._

_"Hey there, little brother!" Merle greeted, ignoring Carol completely and clasping him on the shoulder. Daryl didn't respond, just passed the empty glass that he'd been holding on to back over to Carol with a nod who sent him a weary glance as she grasped the bottle of liquor and refilled it._

_"What, Merle?" He bit out finally when he realized Merle hadn't moved and was just standing in the same position for whatever reason._

_"I'm headin' out. Gonna take that little lady over there with me," Merle pointed over his shoulder at the woman by the door, and by the looks of it , Daryl could assume that she likely didn't even know what her own name was. "You comin'? Were gonna pick some stuff up on the way."_

_Daryl didn't know why Merle even tried to get him to go and get high with him and whoever else after all these years. He always said no because he just never felt the need to get wrapped up in that kind of bullshit. He simply didn't feel the need to snort something up into his nose or shoot something into his arm in order to get lit every night. Besides that, the amount of money he dropped on alcohol night after night was pretty much running his wallet dry as it was._

_"Nah." He replied._

_"Aw, come on, Daryl." He pleaded, leaning closer to make sure nobody else was listening, "a little heroin never hurt nobody."_

_"I said no, Merle." He repeated, throwing back the shot Carol poured him as he attempted to make it look like he was focused on the TV screen a few feet away on the wall._

_"Alright pussy, Suit yourself, Daryl."_

_"Daryl."_

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"Daryl!" His eyes snapped open at the voice, realizing that someone was calling his name and trying to get his attention.

It took him a moment to realize that he wasn't at Ed's Tavern. And it sure as hell wasn't New Years.

"Daryl?" The voice softly asked again. He finally came back to reality and realized he must have dozed off, but the soft female voice reminded him of where he was.

"Yeah, Beth?" He replied, shifting himself away from the car slightly to face the only visible part of the woman; Her arm.

"Oh." She said finally. "I thought you left."

"Nah, I'm still here." He replied, staring up to the black sky above him, hoping to whatever God there was, if there was one at all, that he didn't miss any vehicles that might have passed by.

"Are you okay?" She asked him lightly, her voice coming out hoarsely.

He didn't reply, mostly because he was startled at the fact that this woman that was bleeding and trapped in a smashed vehicle was asking _him_ if _he_ was okay.

_She did say her head hur_t, he reasoned with himself that she was probably just delirious from whatever had hurt her.

"How's your head? He asked instead, averting her attention to where it should be; Herself.

"Uh, it still hurts-" She was cut off by the sound of what from Daryl could tell was some sort of notification from a cell phone.

"That your phone?"

She groaned loudly, "Ugh, yeah, it's dying. I can't see, Daryl. I don't know where it is, but I think it's next to me."

He felt himself stiffen when he heard the noises coming through the vehicle. From what he could tell, this damn woman was moving around in there which was the very _last_ thing she should be doing right now. He shifted slightly again, moving closer to her.

"No, don't move." He said.

"I can try to reach it- agh!"

She cut off her sentence and ceased her movements all of the sudden, abruptly screaming out in pain.

"Beth!" He yelled frantically, pushing himself onto his knees and pulling more metal out of the broken window as best as he could without hurting her.

It was only when he pulled out of the car what looked to be a piece of the dashboard when he was able to see the top of what clearly was a woman's head of blonde hair, even though it appeared to be matted with blood. As he moved it away, the arm that he had freed earlier came up to hold her head as she continued to yelp out in pain.

"Let me look at it." He said, his voice shaking as he moved her hair slightly, trying to find the source of the blood and locate the wound.

As he tried to asses the situation, she continued to yelp and whine in protest; "Try 'n breathe."

He found what appeared to be a deep gash on the left side of her head that was in his eye line. As he moved parts of her hair away to get a better look, her scalp emitted more blood, dripping down from her head and onto his forearm. She continued to shift and squirm around.

"Beth, stop fuckin' moving!" He growled unintentionally.

"I'm sorry." she whispered weakly.

She shifted her head, and Daryl's eyes locked upon her own bright blue ones. It took a few moments for him to focus completely, but when he did he found his breath catching in his throat again. It was what he saw in her eyes that made him want to tear his own eyes away from hers, and he found that he also had to force himself to blink, mostly because all he saw in her eyes was panic and fear. Beautiful sky blue eyes surrounded by smeared eye make-up and a slice just below her eyebrow.

She stared at him intently, opening her mouth to speak a few times, but snapped her jaw shut quickly, and she almost looked like she was emotionally hurt in some way, like he had said something wrong to her. _Huh_, he thought, t_hat's weird_.

"Where else are ya hurt?" He asked.

"My side." She said, her eyes squeezing shut in pain for a moment, making Daryl wince. "My right side."

Daryl fumbled for his keys in his pocket, grabbing the small keychain flashlight and clicking it on.

"Turn your head." He instructed her, not wanting her to look at her own injury and have her get herself even more worked up than she already was. He leaned over her as carefully as he could, aiming the flashlight around the mess, catching sight of her cell phone just off to the right. He grabbed it, placing it ontop of what was left of the dashboard, then returned to examine her side.

Daryl stilled for a moment, not sure how to react, feeling his blood running cold as soon as he was able to make out what it was that had done damage to her side. She must have noticed, because she turned her head slightly; "What is it?"

"Nothin'." He lied, "Just banged up s'all."

He stared at her wound for a few more moments, cursing the large shard of metal that had lodged itself into the side of her, just to the right of where her belly button would be. His heart began to pound against his chest at the thought of the possibility that something had been punctured, and she was bleeding internally.

He removed himself from over her, careful not to move anything that would cause anymore damage to the girl.

When he sank back down to the ground outside, he found himself staring at the poor girl trapped in the drivers seat. She had her eyes closed, her head tilted to the side in his direction, and her hand Gripping a part of the crushed metal of what used to be her drivers side door tightly.

He didn't know what to do at that moment, his hands may have stopped shaking but he remained at a loss for words.

His head snapped to the left when he remembered he had found her cell phone. He'd been so stressed out over her injury that he almost completely forgot about it.

He raised himself back up, grabbing the cell phone off of the dashboard. Of course her phone happened to be some advanced form of technology that he wasn't familiar with at all. He turned the device over in his hands.

"The hell?" He grumbled aloud, "Where are the buttons on this damn thing?" He heard a soft laugh come from the girl, so he turned to see a slightly amused smile on her face. If it were any other person that was laughing at him for not knowing his way around a cell phone, he would have been angry.

But because it had made her frown go away, and quite possibly made her forget about what was going on, even if it was just for a moment, he simply felt a smile tugging on his own lips in return.

"How do you work this damn thing?" He asked.

"You've never had a touch screen phone before?"

"Ain't never needed a cell phone." He replied honestly, "at least 'till now, 'parently."

"You have to unlock it first."; He figured he looked pretty bewildered, because the smile on the girls face just kept widening with everything he said.

Hell if he was going to snap on a girl that by the looks of it was close to dying. She could laugh at him all damn night if she wanted to, because he'd let her.

"Now, how in the hell do I do that?" She slowly explained to him the process, and he wasn't sure if she was talking so slowly because she was trying to control her breathing or if she was deliberately talking to him like he was a three year old.

"Fuckin' hell." He grunted, dropping the phone back on the dashboard, "Ain't got no service."

He sent her a brief glance just before he cast his eyes down to the ground, returning to his sitting position facing her.

"You live around here?" He had lived in Riverdale for over ten years, and he couldn't help but think that this girl was not from around here. He'd never seen her before, and he knew that this town was fairly small, and he knew just about everyone that lived here.

"No," she brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes; "I live in Tennessee."

He cocked his eyebrow; "what're you doin' here in Georgia?"

Her lips curved into a small smile; "I was in Atlanta for a few days.. " she trailed, "But I was driving to my Dad's tonight, he lives on a farm down in Fayetteville."

He nodded, chewing on his thumbnail. He watched her as she stared off into the trees in the distance with a thoughtful look on her face.

"I miss it sometimes." Daryl titled his head, "Georgia."

Daryl grunted, shifting his weight around slightly. "Can't imagine why, ain't shit out here."

"That's what I miss." She said sadly.

"Why'd you leave, then?" He asked her, noticing how she narrowed her eyes at him almost immediately. Perhaps that wasn't the right question to ask.

"Had a dream." She said almost in a whisper. "Nobody back home believed in me, not even Zach."

"Ex-boyfriend?"

"Mhmm."

Her tone had shifted significantly when she had started to speak about the ex-boyfriend. He didn't talk about shit like that with anyone anyway, so he dropped that topic as quickly as it had come up.

"Do you like music?" He asked her, hoping to avert her attention away from her current predicament.

His mind recalled a period of time when Merle's George Strait albums had provided that effect for him back when his dad was still around.

"I do." She replied, raising her blue eyes up to his and he noted that they had softened a little bit.

"Well, go on. Whattya like?" He prepared himself for the Taylor Swift and Brittany Spears bullshit by the time he had asked, judging by what was left of her outfit, leather pants and a dark green long sleeved half shirt, she looked like she listened to that kind of crap.

"Well, when I was little my mama used to sing to me all the time." She said quietly, looking up to the vinyl of the car celing. "Always loved the way she sang Waylon to me.

"Waylon?" He asked, not hiding the surprise in his voice. She jerked her head slightly in a nod.

"Waylon Jennings? How old are ya anyhow?" He repeated.

"_Yes_, Waylon Jennings. And I'm 25." She said matter of factly.

"Well, wasn't expectin' that." He mumbled, honestly surprised and a little taken back by it. And not for nothing, but this chick didn't look a day over eighteen. The realization that she was a full grown woman struck him like a slap across the face, seeing her immediately in a different light, feeling that same feeling he'd felt before when he had first looked into her eyes.

"You're Mama has good taste." He added.

She laughed, but he saw her frown slightly; "Had."

"Hmm?"

"She _had_ good taste." She said "she died."

"'M sorry." He mumbled back, tearing his eyes away from her and feeling very uncomfortable all the sudden.

"Not your fault." She replied.

he silently prayed that the she wasn't gonna start crying again. He wouldn't know what the hell to do with himself if she did. an uncomfortable silence fell between the two, and Daryl found that he began to allow himself to think about his own mother for the first time in a very long time.

He swore that he broke out into a sweat at that very moment, as if he was back in Senoia standing only yards away from the blaze that consumed the home that he had grown up in, as his mother burned down to nothing beneath the flames.

"Lost my Mama too." He offered after the thick silence, finding himself slightly confused with himself as to why in the hell he was divulging this information with her In the first place.

"House burned down, I was thirteen."

"I was eleven." She said, her eyes appeared to be misting from what he could see in the dark. " she had a Pulmonary embolism."

"I ain't got a damn clue what that even means." He said, happy to get a smile back on her face again at his remark. She chuckled a little harder than she probably meant to, yelping in pain once again.

"'M sorry." He said, cringing at her contorted and pain stricken facial expression. "Shouldn't be makin' ya laugh right now."

She shook her head; "No, Daryl. It's fine really." She cocked her head, her lips forming a lazy smile. "I'm glad your here."

He dropped his eyes away from hers, feeling the skin on the back of his neck heat up right along with the top of both of his ears; "ain't nothin'." He replied.

He kept his head down after that, not wanting to look into her eyes again after the unknown and completely foreign feeling that had just washed over him. He pretended to be interested in the grass next to him, plucking pieces of it out of the ground quietly.

He looked up after a while, and immediately felt the pain from earlier coming back to him and hitting him like a ten ton truck. Her eyes were closed, and he head was dropped onto her shoulder.

Either she had fallen asleep, which he knew she shouldn't do after being hit on the head, or she was dead.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, scrambling over to her in record time.

"Beth." He said grabbing her chin and lifting her head up. He released his grip slightly, only to find that her head drooped back down against her shoulder. _Nothing_.

"Beth!" He tried again, this time much louder, and much more frantic. _Still nothing_.

He reached his fingers to her pulse on the skin of her neck, finally releasing a breath he was unaware that he was holding, realizing she still had a heartbeat.

But the small feeling of relief went away too quickly. He knew she was merely passed out, but she couldn't stay like that. He was no doctor by any means, but he'd watched a few stupid things on TV from time to time about how people need to be kept awake after a blow to the head. He knew that if she had a concussion or any other kind of damage, she had to stay awake.

He didn't even feel this panic at the moment he had opened the bathroom door and found Merle dead. He couldn't remember at any point in his meager life where he had felt as helpless and desperate as he did at this very moment.

"No." He said, shaking his head. "No, Beth. C'mon. Beth."

He felt a stab to the chest at the thought of the girl being in a coma. The thought of the girl never making it to her father. The thought of losing the life of the only person he vowed to himself he would try to save.

"Beth." He grasped the sides of her face in his hands. "Beth c'mon, wake up. Wake up, please. I ain't losing you now."

"Beth. _Please_."


	3. 4 AM

**AN: Hey guys! Good Lord, I'm so so so SO sorry that this took so god damn long. Worst case of writers block I've had in a long time.**

**I'm still not completely happy with this chapter, but I think I wrote it a total of 10 times before I got to this version and just figured this was as good as its going to get.. lol.**

**Oh! Thanks for all of the reviews and all that jazz, yall are so good to me.**

**And guess what?**

**I GOT A JOB! FINALLY! Thanks for all of your support and prayers. You guys are incredible.**

**I'm on tumblr, my username is Yourmem0rytrain - if I do say so myself, I'm pretty entertaining when I'm drunk and feeling my Bethyl feels. So feel free to follow and laugh at me because it always makes me feel better. Especially those Bethyl ghost chats with my babes.. you guys are awesome.**

**So here it is, chapter three. Hope you all enjoy it!**

**As always, leave me some love. It keeps me going.**

**Love yall,**  
**-Stephanie**

* * *

_How To Save A Life _

_Chapter Three - 4 AM_

_Think Daryl, God damnit. Think!_

That was Daryl's inner monologue, racing against the clock to figure out some way to get Beth to wake up. And as he wracked his brain for some sort of solution, he could hear his heartbeat thudding through his ears, and felt his heart as it pounded on the inside of his chest, threatening to all but burst right out of him.

He was running out of ideas quickly. So far, saying her name wasn't doing any good, he was too afraid to shake her because of her injuries, and he was coming up blank for any other alternative.

The longer he took to wake her up, the worse her state would become. Well, that's what that TV show had taught him, at least.

The more time that she was unconscious increased the likelihood of her slipping into a coma. And whatever god was up there would be the only one who would know if she'd ever wake up from it. That frightened the hell out of him.

He was suddenly reminded of turning Merle's body over from its position face down on the dirty and old linoleum tile of the bathroom floor. Suddenly reminded of his eyes remaining shut even as he shook him back and forth while gripping his shoulders. Suddenly reminded of that feeling of loss that he never wanted to feel ever again, but was starting to realize that he probably would. And sooner than he'd ever would have thought.

_"Shoulda just taken off when ya had the chance, Darylina."_

Almost as if the thoughts summoned him, there was the voice of Merle Dixon. The voice of his dead brother that chastised and criticized every single move that he made; And Merle might be dead in the worldly sense, but in Daryl's head; He was more than alive as his voice rang in his ears.

It was punishment, Daryl had decided, for not going after Merle that night on New Years. Punishment for him not being there when his Merle shot just a little too much into his veins. Punishment for not being there to save him.

And Merle's voice wasn't helping at all, it was only making him feel more and more helpless as the minutes ticked on by around him. As the minutes on Beth's chance at survival slowly dwindled away too.

He stared at her closed eyelids, whispering apologies quietly to her as he felt himself slowly coming closer to giving up.

But just as he was about to sink back to the ground helplessly, a light bulb went off in his head.

The creek.

He jumped to his feet, hustling over to the small body of water and cupping some of its contents into his hands. The only thing that he could think of was to take the water and splash it on to her face, and hope like hell that it did the trick and got her to open her eyes again.

_"C'mon, little brother. Quit playin' hero, get in your truck, and get the hell outta there. Ain't I taught you nothin'?"_

Daryl shook his head as he carefully headed back over to what was left of Beth's vehicle, dismissing Merle's voice and hoping he'd leave him the hell alone, for once.

He knelt down beside her, letting the water fall down onto her face from his hands, covering her with water from the crown of her head all the way to the top of her shirt. Nothing.

_"I done told ya, Darylina. You's just wasting your time."_ His eyes squinted shut as he lost his self control, lashing back out at the voice in his head aloud.

"You best shut the hell up!" He shouted; And in that moment, he couldn't have been more thankful for Merle's voice ringing in his eardrums because the girl's eyes suddenly began to flutter open. He'd remind himself to thank Merle later.

"Jesus Christ." He whispered in relief.

His hands remained braced on the metal confines of the car, but he let his head duck down and his shoulder sag as the tension and fear left his body slowly. While the immediate threat of her being trapped and injured still wasn't resolved, she was conscious. And for that, Daryl was thankful.

"Daryl?" Beth's voice cracked weakly, asking for him as she woke up.

"Hm?"

"Why are you sweating?" She asked.

He flicked his eyes back up to her, seeing that shade of blue that he feared he would never see again, he watched her as her eyes examined the beads of sweat that had formed across his face.

"Cause ya damn near gave me a heart attack." He admitted, sending her a small smile as he allowed himself to sink back down to the ground in a sitting position once again.

"You passed out. I couldn't wake ya up for the life of me." He finished quietly, calming his nerves that were on end from being so stressed out moments before.

She tore her focus away as a small drop of water trailed from her hairline and down her face. She wiped it away with her index finger, and he watched as her brow furrowed at the realization that she was covered in water.

"Why am I wet?" She asked incredulously. He snorted at the look on her face. He could imagine she was a little confused as to why she woke up with water all over her face and chest.

"Splashed some water on your face to wake your ass up." He said, clicking his keychain flashlight on and off every so often.

"Did it work?" She asked, her warm smile coming back to her face.

He snorted in amusement again; "Nah, of course not. Took me yellin' at my damn brother to get you to open your eyes."

In the silence that followed, he looked up to see a look of confusion now etched upon Beth's delicate features. He felt his entire body stiffen when he realized exactly what he had said.

"Merle, he was my brother." He began to clarify, figuring it was too late to back track from his last statement. "He died, 'bout six months ago. Can't seem to get him out of my damn head."

He tried his best to keep his eyes trained on the ground after he finished talking, feeling utterly embarrassed by letting something slip out of his mouth like that. She wouldn't understand it no matter how he tried to explain himself.

But when he finally mustered up the courage to look into her eyes again, he was surprised to find a soft look of from what he could tell was understanding on her face. He'd already mentally prepared himself for a look of disgust, or for her to look at him like he'd grown three heads. But much to his surprise, she did nothing of the sort.

"You miss him, don't you?" She asked quietly, seeming to tip toe on the subject, testing the waters of how far she could push him to open up to her. He grunted, shrugging his shoulders a little bit and turning his focus to the laces of his boots, trying to seem interested in them as he fought the urge to tell the girl to mind her own damn business.

Problem with that was, he knew he wouldn't do it, no matter what subject she touched on. He couldn't bring himself to do it. It was strange, the way that this girl managed to put him on edge and yet keep him at ease at the same damn time. It was incredibly unnerving.

He found that he didn't mind it much, telling this girl about bits and pieces of his life that he'd never spoken about to anyone. Things that haunted him day after day and night after night. Things that were hard to even touch on in his brain, let alone form a sentence about them to explain them to someone.

"I miss my brother Shawn." She said, tracing her fingers lightly on the metal she was surrounded by.

"He was so annoying and over protective." She complained, slightly laughing at her own words. He looked back over to her, watching her eyes as they misted in the moonlight, her smile never wavering, though.

"He died a few years back." She said. Her voice cracked again, and he couldn't tell if it was because she was crying or if it was to attributed to her inquiries.

"Car accident." She explained, "he was on his way back from staying with me for a few days, never made it home."

He thought about it for a moment, about how many things this girl and himself had in common even though they seemed to be complete polar opposites of each other. How someone that looked so perfect beneath the blood and the scratches marring her perfect skin, may not have had the picture perfect life he had assumed that she did.

Although, he knew that she probably didn't have to endure the same horrors that he undoubtably had. This girl had gone through her own fair share of shit, and here she was, practically putting her life in Daryl's hands; figuratively and literally.

"Ironic right?" She said, wincing as she laughed bitterly at her own train of thought. "_Another_ Greene dies in a car accident." Her smile faltered, and she began chewing on her thumbnail.

"My brother, he overdosed." He said in response, almost feeling obligated to share with her what had happened to him after she had offered the information about her own brothers death.

"That's awful." She said quietly. "I'm sorry, Daryl."

He scoffed almost immediately. "Don't be. Dumbass caused me more problems than I could keep track of. Made my life a livin' hell."

He allowed his mind to drift to when he'd ended up in jail for defending Merle outside of a bar here in Riverdale only days after they had arrived. Merle had said the man looked at him the wrong way, and daryl tried his damnedest to just stay on the sidelines and watch; but that was until the man pulled his gun out and stuck it right in the middle of Merle's forehead.

"But you got away from all of it." She said, her voice raising an octave, sounding hopeful.

"I didn't." He replied, shaking his head. Clearly, he didn't get away from Merle and his antics when he constantly swirled around in his thoughts every day.

"You did." She insisted.

"Yeah well, maybe when you get outta here you gotta remind me that sometime." A smirk played on his lips involuntarily, and he ducked his head down once she returned it with one of her own.

"Your past.. It's part of you. But you can't let it decide who you are." She said softly. "You gotta stay who you are. Not who you were."

He stared at the grass so hard he almost felt as though he was going cross eyed. How this woman was able to cross over and completely break through his harsh exterior was completely beyond him.

"What if you can't?" He asked, wincing at the helplessness in his voice.

"You have to." She almost demanded him, his eyes slowly looked back up to hers. "Or.. It kills you."

He found himself smiling. And it wasn't a tight lipped and half ass smile that usually graced his features very rarely. It was probably the most genuine smile he'd ever sent in anyone's direction, let alone a woman.

And she smiled back, but through her wide and teeth bearing smile, he could see the pain in her eyes. He could tell that she was hurting, the color slowly was draining from her face as the minutes passed, and he felt helpless to stop it.

"I'm surprised you're still here." She said, almost in a whisper.

She sounded relieved, but he could hear the fear in her voice that she was expecting something like that. That he'd wait for her to fall asleep and just leave her down there alone.

And he felt her comment rub him the wrong way, making him angry not at her, but at himself. Reason being - he almost in fact did do what she said. He almost left when he had initially heard her pleas for help. He didn't want to admit it, but he almost did listen to Merle's voice in his head when he told him to do just that. To leave.

"I told ya I'd stay, didn't i?" He replied roughly, his voice sounding a lot harsher than he'd really meant it to.

Getting mad at this girl for pinning him for who he knew that he really was wouldn't help anything. Just because this girl could see straight through him like he was made of glass wasn't her fault - he knew that it was just how she was. He knew that he almost left, regardless of how good of a person that she may have thought that he was.

She was genuine and she was remarkably beautiful. She was kind, and she was smart. Beth was the exact opposite of Daryl; Beth was everything that Daryl was not.

She didn't skip a beat when he grew quiet yet again, picking a topic out from her head to talk about with him yet again. She smiled genuinely at him, beaming beautifully out from the dirt and the blood and the sweat and the grime that covered her delicate face. Smiling as though she was the happiest she had ever been.

"I like to sing." She said, reaching a hand up to softly scratch her pale skin just below her right ear, coking her head slightly.

"You any good?" He asked, even though he was pretty sure he already knew the answer. He couldn't imagine the girl being horrible or no good at anything even if she deliberately tried to do so.

"Some people think so."; her voice sounded slightly sad, shifting her tone from happy to slightly uneasy as the little sentence fell from her small pink lips.

"G'on." He said, flicking his hand in her direction. "Sing somethin'"

"Like what?" She asked, her lips quirking back into that little smile that sent an involuntary shiver up and down his spine.

He grunted, casting his eyes downwards, suddenly regretting speaking since the conversation had turned on him, as most conversations did that he was involved in.

That happened often; opening his mouth one minute and regretting even doing so the very next. Feeling like opening his mouth, then snapping it shut moments later.

With Beth, he found it was hard to feel that pang of regret as fiercely as he would in other circumstances. It was still there, undoubtedly, nagging at him and making his shoulders stiffen, but it wasn't anything like it when it was someone other than her.

_"The way that you hurt_  
_the way that you sting_  
_the way that you bring me down to my knees_

_If whiskey can't drown ya, what the hell will?_  
_Hey blues, you're a buzzkill."_

She finished softly, her voice although melodic and pretty, her pain from her injuries laced into the words of the eerily familiar song and made his heart ache for her.

"You still hurtin', huh?" He asked, again already knowing the answer to his idiotic question.

"I sounded that bad?" She joked, a cough rumbling up in her chest as she wiped the sweat from her brow.

"Nah. Just can tell you probably sing better if you weren't stuck in there." The truth of his words hurt him, and he could see the worry in her eyes.

"What time is it?" She asked quietly. Casting her eyes downwards.

Daryl touched the round circle at the bottom of Beth's cell phone, glancing at the digital clock along with the picture on the screen. Beth in all her glory, hair swept to the side and strumming her guitar intently.

"4 AM." He mumbled, unable to tear his eyes away from the image on the screen.

Her golden hair was perfectly brushed, a contrast to the mangled and disheveled mess that it was now; Pieces plastered to her face from sweat, rain and tears.

The realization of exactly what time it was, or rather, exactly how much time had passed since he had pulled over to the side of the bridge, was making him uneasy. Making him worried. Making the small hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge out of fear.

But the longer his eyes lingered on the small glittering phone screen and the photo on the background in front of him, the more he felt that sudden anticipation subside. Feeling something foreign-something he'd never felt before.

_"Ran out on his money, ran out on his love,"_

Daryl smiled, listening to the unfamiliar tune as she sang, eyes bright and shiny in the moonlight.

_"At four in the morning I loaded my truck, I left my hometown in a big cloud of dust - I just had to follow my gut."_

_"And I thank god I ain't; What I almost was."_

She stopped softly, slowly turning her head to look at Daryl with that pretty little lazy smile on her face, almost looking dazed. If the brightness of her smile didn't catch Daryl off guard, he probably would have snapped right back into his state of panic and worry.

"Did you like it?" She asked, her words slowly coming out, her brow scrunching in pain from what he could assume.

"Like what?" He asked, the sides of his lips curling into a small smile. Wondering what she meant.

"The song." She said impatiently, raising her eyebrows and waiting for his answer.

"Never heard it 'fore." He replied, shrugging his shoulders a little bit.

"Really?" She asked in genuine surprise, shaking her head and looking at him in such disbelief that confused the hell out of him.

He looked around, not really sure what the hell he missed.

"Really." He said, still eyeing her warily.

_Maybe she's really losing it._

She let out a sigh, shrugging her own shoulders, and looking somewhat disappointed. Leaving Daryl at a loss for what to say next.

And in the silence that followed, Daryl found himself maneuvering back over to the car, trying to help the situation in the only way he could think of. He pulled small pieces of the debris away as best he could, slowly, almost painstakingly.

But even though he was focused on the material around her, he could feel her eyes as he leaned over her, boring into the side of his face and making his hair stand on end.

He tried to ignore it, brushing it off as he continued to pull pieces out. First a piece of a headlight, followed by multiple pieces of unidentified metal. It was only when he reached a certain piece and pulled it gently, he immediately regretted his decision of removing things from the car, because the piece in his hands was directly next to her abdominal wound. And when he tried to jerk it, it came into contact with her injury and she began to wail out in pain.

"Beth! Beth!" He yelled frantically, pulling himself out of the vehicle so he could face her, but she had her eyes screwed shut, continuously crying out painfully as tears streamed down her face, cutting trails through the blood on her cheekbones.

"Beth, Jesus Christ." He said, frantically scrambling to his feet.

"Beth, I gotta go get you help. You're going to die if I don't!" He said, ignoring her protests that followed as he scrambled back up to the bridge, heading towards his truck.

But as he approached, he felt as though all the blood in his veins rapidly drained from his body. The lights in the truck were dim and flickering, and he immediately knew what he had done. He'd left his lights on the entire time.

With the battery to his truck dead, if that was what had happened, he feared that he'd never get help for Beth. He fought the tears of defeat that were threatening to surface, his eyes burning as he blinked quickly to stop it from happening.

"Son of a bitch!" He said panicking again for the millionth time that night.

"No, come on. Come on!"; He felt as though he was moving in slow motion, the car seeming to move further and further away as he ran faster and faster towards it.

He yanked the drivers side cab door open, and placed the key into the ignition revving the engine in order to save the battery and hoping like hell that it would start.

And it revved, and it kept revving. But it never turned over.

He slammed his hands on the steering wheel, only then noticing the blood of his own on his hands, covered in cuts and slices from moving the metal around in the car. But he couldn't give a damn about himself at that moment. Not by a long shot.

A small dinging noise came from his pocket where Beth's cell phone was. He pulled it out, remembering her instructions and unlocked the small electronic, feeling a rush of relief when he noticed that the phone had one bar of service.

Frantically, he fumbled with it to dial 911, hoping to a god he'd never believed existed before that the phone stayed within service range.

He sat in place as still as possible, the cold metal of the cell phone pressing to the warmth of his cheek as he heard the first ring. The noise cackled slightly in his ear, and he shifted slightly hoping to get better reception.

But he was met with silence, except for a beeping noise in his ear. When he brought the screen to his eyes, the phone flashed;

_**"CALL FAILED."**_

"No! Fuck, c'mon!" He practically screamed.

He got out of the car, walking around and trying to regain service when suddenly the object buzzed in his hand.

Her phone was ringing.


	4. Everyone Leaves

**AN: Hey again, hope everyone's enjoying their Friday :) It's Stephanie here, wallowing in feels at 9 O'Clock in the damn morning. This ship will be the death of me I swear.**

**I need Jesus.**

**That being said; In honor of the Season 5 Trailer being released today, here's another update for you. I have my fingers crossed that we get a glimpse of Beth in it! I know it's kinda a long shot but hey, a girl can dream, right?**

**Anyways, this chapter is obviously a tad different than the last 3, from now on, you'll see switches between Beth/Daryl POV.**

**If you're on Tumblr, (and if you're not, you very well should be!) It'd be in your best interests to check the Bethyl tag every now and again to keep your eye out for those Bethyl ghost chats that I love so much. I'm sure there's bound to be one soon because of the San Diego Comic Con TWD Panel, and I hope to see ya'll in there. That way, we can discuss how much this ship has totally turned our lives upside down. Well, my life, at least. Rofl.**

**Hope you like this, as always, leave me something and let me know what you think! **

**I hope you guys have an awesome weekend.**

**Love y'all from the very bottom of my heart,**

**-Stephanie.**

* * *

_How To Save A Life_

_Chapter 4 - "Everyone Leaves"_

* * *

_Atlanta, GA_  
_Six Hours Earlier_

Beth flung the dull pencil she had in her grasp across the bus as hard as she could, making a frustrated noise that sounded more like a squeal than anything. After the long day she had, she was annoyed, she was aggravated, and she was tired.

No, she was dead on her feet.

Mostly, it was becoming aggravating to the young singer that she couldn't seem to get her thoughts and words out right like she usually could. Writing always was something that came so easy to Beth, just like breathing always did. The words floated onto paper so easily and no matter what it was that was plaguing her thoughts and her mind, she'd always feel better after a session of just writing her frustrations all out on a piece of paper.

That's why tonight, at 10 P.M. after her seven hour meet and greet in downtown Atlanta, she took to writing in an effort to try and get her mind to clear and stop her from being so damn irritable.

But tonight, like many nights lately, it didn't help. She couldn't even begin to understand what she was thinking in her mind to begin with, let alone write a song about it.

And not that it even mattered in the first place, mostly because it was very rare that her label even let her lay down a record that meant something to her, usually stringing her towards the bullshit that was popular nowadays on country radio; Jacked up trucks, cowboy boots, bonfires, cut off jeans. Cookie cutter bullshit that she _hated_ more than just about anything, but had to pretend that she liked.

If she had known that this was the way that things were going to be, she very well just might have listened to all the people who told her she should have just stayed home and went to College instead.

She barely flinched when she heard the door to her tour bus hiss open, and she wasn't sure if it was because she truly didn't care to see who it was, or if it was because she was so tired she thought she might just pass out right there in the chair she sat in if she made any significant effort to move.

Besides, she knew who it was anyway. She'd already heard her sister from the outside babbling away on her cell phone to whom she assumed was likely the head of the record label she was signed to, Mr. Porter.

To the surprise of many, as awkward and strange as Mr. Porter seemed at first, he'd managed to somehow make a serious name for himself in the music business by becoming the head of the label about five years ago, not long before Beth had arrived in Nashville.

She didn't have a problem with Mr. Porter, aside from the fact that once Beth's career started to take off in a successful and money driven direction, Mr. Porter made sure he kept tabs on Beth and her activities regarding the every single god damn move she made at all times. That's another reason why she just knew that Maggie was talking to him. Especially when Maggie delved into full detail on the Meet and greet session, which Beth hardly thought was necessary.

"You look exhausted." Maggie said as she walked further into the make-shift studio in her tour bus, studying Beth as she lifted herself away from the desk and propped herself on the couch opposite the soundboard, covering both of her eyes with her forearm.

She knew she looked exhausted. Likely because she _was_ exhausted.

"Couldn't possibly have anything to do with you booking me night after night at every damn venue on the East coast, could it?" Beth muttered bitterly at her sister, who doubled as her overbearing and persistent manager.

"Don't be like that." Maggie replied, sitting down next to Beth's feet that were propped up on the leather.

Beth knew her sister meant well, and she knew that she wasn't _deliberately_ trying to make her practically run on fumes, but the fact of the matter was; that's exactly what she was doing. Working Beth until she could barely stand straight at the end of the day.

"One night off. Seriously, Maggie. Is that too much to ask for?" Beth pleaded, lifting her forearm to rest further up on top of her forehead so she could look Maggie into the eyes. Pleading her not only with her words, but with her darkened and barely open eyes too.

"You know why we're doing this, Beth. Your album drops in less than a month." She countered, sounding more like a Mom than a manager or a sister for that matter. Every time she turned that motherly voice on, Beth wanted to scream.

"I don't care, Maggie. This isn't healthy, and it sure as hell isn't normal." Beth snapped back, watching Maggie recoil at her harsh tone. "I can't keep doing this, you can't keep working me to the bone the way you have been."

Maggie sighed, running a hand through her cropped brown hair; "It's album sales, Beth. That's what we're targeting right now." She replied, sucking in a deep breath. "Think of Daddy."

Beth's eyes flashed angrily at her words, she saw red in her eyes and she felt her nostrils begin to flare as her body heated up. It was such a typical Maggie move, to bring him into this and make her feel guilty just so that she'd get off her back.

But she wasn't letting up that easy on her. Not when she was so wound up like she currently was. No way. Tonight, she was going to let Maggie have it.

"_Daddy_," She spat right back, "Is the only reason I'm still doing this willingly. I didn't sign up for all of this."; She flailed her arms around probably a little more dramatically than she meant to, but in that moment she didn't really care if she was acting like a drama queen. She was angry at her sister for throwing him in her face like that. Like she didn't care about him at all. And that was far from the truth.

It hadn't been long after she got signed to a record label that her Father had fallen very ill. And while Beth Greene was a firm believer in the saying 'Everything happens for a reason'; She couldn't help the stab of disdain she felt for God at that very moment. Why, of every single person in the universe, that her father had to be the one to suffer. That was about two years ago now.

Beth wouldn't dare even dream of putting the money she'd been putting towards her Father's medial bills elsewhere. But, at the same time, the career she had dreamed about for her entire life that had finally became a reality - turned into more of an obligation than anything else.

And now, she was torn. Torn between quitting the career that was draining her emotionally and physically and quite possibly losing her Father in the process, or keep going, until she had absolutely nothing left to give.

There really wasn't much of a choice to be made, if she really thought about it.

"Beth." Maggie tried to reason with her sister, all the while knowing that there was no way she was winning this fight.

"Maggie," Beth berated her as she raised herself to a sitting position and held her hand out to silence her sisters voice. "Just don't."

Beth stood to her feet, grabbing her keys to the rental car off of the counter.

"Where are you going?" Maggie asked, frantically scrambling to her feet and following Beth out of the bus doors. Beth elected to keep walking, but at the last second stopped, took a deep breath and turned around to face her.

"I need a break Maggie-"

"Beth, don-" she cut her off before she could continue.

"Maggie! For Christ's sake, you don't have to follow me everywhere I go! I'm a God damn adult for crying out loud!" She snapped, clicking the button and unlocking the silver rental car just off to the side of her.

She had made her mind up a few days ago, that when she got to Atlanta and finished her Meet and Greet, as well as the show at the Dome, she was going to drive and see her Father. Or, maybe she'd just drive until she got far enough away to where nobody knew who the hell she even was.

Yeah, she'd like that last part. She'd like that last part a _lot_.

"It's ten at night!" Maggie disagreed, shaking her head and closing the door to Beth's rental car just as she swung it open, leaving the palm of her hand pressed on the glass, preventing her from reopening it.

"_And_," she emphasized, "We have a plane to catch first thing in the morning."

"There's always another plane!" Beth yelled back, trying to reopen the car door to no avail. The pressure from Maggie's hand on the glass of the window was unrelenting.

"There's always something! There's always a show, or an Interview! God!" She continued, her voice raising higher and higher with every word that came out of her mouth. She made a frustrated noise and began thrusting a hand through her blonde hair, resisting the urge pull it all out of her head.

She figured she must have scared Maggie to some degree, mostly because as she paced back and forth, her sister didn't say a word. She simply stood in place, waiting patiently for her to calm down.

She looked up finally, staring into Maggie's eyes that now were full of what she could assume was understanding. She felt bad for yelling at her as they locked eyes, even though she knew it was the only way to have Maggie get the picture of why she was wound up so tight.

"I'm gonna take the rest of this weekend off and you're going to leave me be." She said sternly.

It wasn't a request, it was a demand.

"Wait, where are you going?" She asked as Beth started walking back towards the car.

Beth looked at her sister, silently gesturing with her eyes that she needed to back away and just let her do what she was going to do. Maggie ducked her head in defeat, dropping her hand away from the window and stepping back only a few steps.

Beth gave her a weak smile and opened the car door. She took a deep breath as she dropped her phone and her wallet onto the passenger seat - She placed one arm on the top of the door and rested her other elbow on the roof. She shook her head, knowing by the look on Maggie's face that she was stressed out of her mind as well. She was probably having just as hard of a time as she was with all this.

"Mags, I'm just gonna go stay with Dad this weekend." She said. "_Alone._"

She added the last part to let her know that this was a solo trip. More specifically meaning, Maggie was not coming.

"I love you Maggie, I do. I just-" she stopped short, almost unsure of how to word what she was thinking before continuing.

"I'm starting to lose it. I'm just asking for a few days, that's all." She said sadly, her eyes darting from Maggie's own, to the Georgia Dome shining brightly in the distance.

"Promise you'll call when you get there." She requested, her eyes glassy and her facial expression weary.

"I promise."

* * *

_"Beth, I gotta get you help. You're gonna die if I don't."_ Beth winced at the desperation in Daryl's voice, watching him as he sprinted away from the car and up towards the bridge.

She couldn't help but feel scared again- no, terrified.

She knew that Daryl was right, even though she didn't know the full extent of the damage to her body. She needed to get out of there, she needed to get to a hospital.

She was soaked in sweat and blood, she could taste the mixture of both of them in her mouth even though it felt drier than it ever had felt in her life. She knew she was bleeding in more places than her mouth, she saw and felt the blood as it trickled down her face and through her hair. And she knew that she was in trouble, but she still didn't want to be left alone.

"Daryl!" She cried out weakly at his silhouette running further and further away. "Daryl, don't go!"

She watched helplessly as his form disappeared onto the bridge, feeling her face grow hot and tears pool in her eyes. She was petrified, more afraid than she had ever been in her entire life at that very moment.

She remembered one time getting lost on a family vacation at Disney World in Florida with her family when she was very young. She had somehow meandered herself towards two of the characters that were walking past her, without even thinking. Before she knew it, Maggie, Shawn, her Mother and her Father were nowhere in sight.

She had been spotted by a park employee, who took her to the lost children kiosk at the front of the park to wait until her family showed up. She'd been so scared, and the feeling of dread that she felt that day was currently thrumming through her veins again at that very moment. The only difference was, this time, it was much more amplified.

And although this particular fear wasn't exactly the same, it damn near came close to it. Damn near made her feel helpless.

No, she _did_ feel helpless.

She remained as quiet as she possibly could; Waiting to hear Daryl fire up his car and take off without a second thought.

It was what she was used to; People leaving.

Shawn left. Shawn left when his truck crashed off of the same highway she had been traveling on to the same exact destination those few years ago.

She found herself suddenly hoping that he didn't end up like she very well might-on the side of the road, without a car in sight. Alone. Cold. Terrified.

Maybe he didn't leave her intentionally per say, but at the end of the day, he was gone. Just one more person that she loved that wasn't around anymore.

Then there was her Mom; And Beth might have been fairly young when her Mother had passed, but that didn't lessen the sting of the blow.

Her Dad had left for a while; Maybe not in the sense of death, but more in the sense of the fact that he'd managed to completely lose himself when her mother had passed away.

But then, there was the time that she left someone. But not because she was cruel or that she even really wanted to, but because she simply _had to_. She had to do what was right for _her_.

She'd always dreamed of being a singer-getting paid and making a living off of what she loved to do more than anything. People always said to her growing up that if you truly loved what you did for a living, then you never really had to work a day in your life.

That's why when she finally decided to leave Fayetteville, and move to Nashville, she expected understanding. She expected support. But what she got was the complete opposite of that.

Not that anyone really said it to her face, it was more along the lines of whispers and gossip through the small town when they thought she wasn't around. More along the lines of disapproving looks and tight lipped smiles. Except for Zach, of course.

It didn't come as a surprise to Beth when Zach was more than vocal about why Beth shouldn't leave, why she'd never make it, and how it would 'break his heart' if she really did go. That of course was complete and utter bullshit, just like everything else that came out of his mouth; Especially considering the fact that he'd managed to get a new girl in his life not even two weeks after she'd left.

There was something always pinging in the back of her head to detach and never think that anyone had the intentions of or ever wanted to stay. She knew the human race to be cold, and to burn her every time she put her faith in someone, or trusted them.

That's why every single time Beth closed her eyes and opened them back again as she was trapped in the cars confines, she was startled to see the older and gruff looking man still there. Even after she'd fallen asleep, even after she cried and made herself look like a damn fool.

Mostly, out of everything though, she was surprised he stayed because it was clear that he had no clue who she was. And God, did she hate even that she had to think of herself in that way; Like she was something so damn important, when in her own mind she was not.

But still, if it'd been some 20 year old guy or the Mother of a teenage girl perhaps that usually was in her meet and greet lines, she would have understood why they stayed; ulterior motives. Her money, the image, the spotlight.

But Beth could just tell that Daryl simply _wasn't_ one of those guys. He was there because he elected to be. He was there because he said he'd stay, and so he did. She'd always been good at reading people, and Daryl was no exception to that.

And she found that the more she thought about it, she in all honesty didn't even want Daryl to know. She didn't want him to see or think of her any differently than he did now.

It was then that she heard the distinct sound of an engine firing in the distance, but not from far away from what she could tell. She hoped, no, prayed, that she had just imagined it. She hoped that her subconscious wasn't right about Daryl doing exactly what she didn't want him to do.

Leave.

She felt yet another hot tear streak down her cheek, felt angry and confused and pissed off and a million other different emotions that she simply couldn't pinpoint because they were all shooting through her at an impossible speed to keep up with.

And just as she was about to let the dam break, and just as she was about to finally give up, she heard it.

She snapped away from her thoughts when she heard the grass being jostled back and forth, forcing her eyes to look in that direction. She felt her shoulders sag in relief when she realized Daryl was headed back towards her after what seemed like an eternity.

But mostly, more than anything else, she was relieved that he hadn't left.

"What happened?" She asked, knowing he went with the intention to get help, but seemed a little more unnerved and stressed rather than relieved.

"I uh-" he replied, scratching his head and cocking his head to the side, completely avoiding any eye contact with her. In fact, his eyes were strictly focused on the object in his hand. Her cellphone.

"Daryl.. What is it?" She pressed, trying her best to speak as loudly as she could without hurting.

"Your sister called."


	5. Promise

**So, if you've been in the Bethyl chat lately, you've probably had to deal with me moaning and groaning about this chapter for a while now. But I have Jazznsmoke to thank for kindly editing this for me, so thank you bae for all of your help.**

**So, without further ado, here you are my lovelies**.

* * *

_How To Save A Life_

_Chapter 5 - "Promise"_

* * *

Daryl stood frozen, staring at the illumination of the phone screen as it buzzed in his knuckle-white grip. He blinked a few times, trying his damn best to make sure he wasn't just imagining things.

Thankfully, he realized that he wasn't.

The screen in front of him read "Maggie Rhee" clear as day with a picture of Beth, and whoever this Maggie chick was. They were holding each other tightly, Maggie, the brunette, wore a long white wedding dress, and Beth wore a long pink one that matched the bouquet in Maggie's hands.

He assumed they were friends. He couldn't remember what Beth's last name was, but he was pretty sure it wasn't Rhee, so he concluded that they likely weren't related.

"Maggie?" He asked, hoping that was who was on the other end of the line. It was a stupid question, sure, but it was the only one his brain could come up with at that very moment.

"Who the hell are you?!" The voice answered by shouting into Daryl's ear. He yanked it away from his ear as it happened, grimacing at the volume and the nasty tone of the woman's voice on the other end.

He wasn't surprised that this Maggie girl was pissed off, though. Some random guy answered her friends phone in the middle of the night, so he could imagine he'd be pretty pissed off too, if he were the one on the other end of the call.

As clear as it was that the woman was pissed, the line still wasn't as clear as he'd been hoping it would be. It was fuzzy, and the service wasn't good. He had to act quick, tell her briefly what had happened and get her to call 911, and hope like hell that the service stayed in tact long enough to do so.

"Woman, I ain't got time to get into all the details," he began, staying as still as he could in order to prevent the call from dropping. "I need you to call an ambulance, the police, 911. Something. And do it fast."

He knew his voice was shaking, and that he probably talked way too fast, but his mind was going into auto pilot.

"Why? What the hell is going on?!" The woman yelled frantically; "Where's Beth?! Where's my sister?!"

Sister?

Oh.

_Her sister._

Daryl shook his head at himself, regaining his focus; "She wrecked her car near the bridge in Riverdale. Off of 85," He explained hurriedly and with a severe twinge of annoyance in his voice. "She's hurt. Hurt real bad."

"Is she alright?" She asked, not knowing that was what would cause Daryl's temper to flare up, yet again.

"You deaf, girl?" He growled into the receiver, holding the microphone close to his mouth; "Do what I said!"

"Wait!" Maggie cried out desperately, "Who are you?"

Daryl's eyes widened at the woman's demeanor at the entire situation, asking questions when she really should be doing what he told her to.

"It don't matter none who I am!" He growled into the receiver again, "get your head outta your ass and get help."

Just as Maggie began to reply on the other end, the screen flashed the words "Call failed." Yet again.

Daryl was some what relieved. Only that the girl was off the phone and he felt he could breathe again. Her berating questions and demanding attitude was so much different than Beth's. It put him on edge and it pissed him off.

As he let the phone drop into the back pocket of his jeans, he started to walk back down towards the creek, back towards Beth.

The familiar twinge of apprehension started creeping back into him between his shoulder blades again, heading back towards Beth, he hoped her eyes were still open.

As he walked onwards, he was happy to see that her eyes were open. Her head had snapped up as soon as he was within eyesight of the car. He must have had some sort of strained look on his face. He knew this only because as he grew closer, Beth's eyes knit together in confusion.

"What happened?" She asked him.

He fought to get the words out of his throat; "I uh-"

"Daryl… What is it?"

He groaned, running a hand over his sweat drenched face. "Your sister called." He managed to bite out through clenched teeth.

Her eyes rolled, and from what Daryl could tell, it was out of irritation and she looked down-right pissed off all of the sudden.

"Great." She hissed, shaking her head. Her voice sounded bitter, and Daryl soon realized she actually was laughing.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with her." She said, her eyes softening. "I hope she wasn't a royal bitch to you like she is to me."

He cocked his head to the side utterly confused at her reaction. It would have made sense to him if she was crying this time, or if she was happier than all hell that there was someone who knew what was going on, but she seemed… Pissed.

This woman confused the absolute hell out of him.

She noticed his face, he assumed, because as he studied hers she slowly removed the bitter scowl from her face and smiled sadly at him; "We had a fight," she said, "earlier, before I started heading this way."

Daryl nodded, tucking his head down as he realized she was more focused on the fight that had transpired between the two of them, rather than the fact that her sister was now her only hope at getting out of there.

_Women_, he scoffed inwardly.

But he figured, at the same time, that he could see why Beth wasn't exactly pleased to hear her sister's name. At least judging by the way that the woman handled the phone call moments before.

"She seems… Uh-"

"Overbearing? Like she's trying to be my mom? Like she needs to be on medication?" She finished for him, a bitter edge was in her tone that he hadn't known she was capable of having.

"Was gonna say protective, but that works too." He replied, easing himself back onto the ground.

She sighed loudly, bringing her hand back up to her head that he knew was probably starting to become more and more painful as the minutes ticked by.

"Yeah." She replied, "I guess that's the polite way of saying it…" She trailed off.

"Seems like she cares about you." Daryl offered awkwardly, fiddling with his hands in his lap, "Cant say I'd be happy about some old guy answering my sisters phone at 4 AM either."

It was true. Not that Daryl had a younger sibling that he could compare the situation to; But he knew that if he did, especially if the sibling was a woman, he'd probably be reigning absolute hell if he'd answered the phone to a voice like his own.

"You ain't old, Daryl." She said, squinting at him. He laughed at the look on her face.

"Darlin', I hate to break it to ya, but I am old. Ya probably hit your head a little harder than ya think ya did."

"What's she like? When you're not mad at her, ya know." He asked her, watching as her gaze flitted around lazily.

"She's beautiful." She said quietly, casting her eyes downwards. "She's my half sister, looks just like her mama. I ended up looking like mine." She took a deep breath, shrugging her shoulders as she said; "she's got these beautiful green eyes, she's tall." She swallowed hard, "Always envied the hell out of her."

"Why?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows together and chewing on his goddamn thumb again.

She stretched her hand towards him, clasping her hand open and closed a few times; "I'll show you, hand me my phone."

Daryl jerked his thumb away from his mouth, pressing himself up off of the ground slightly to grasp the heavy object out of his back pocket. He placed it in her hand, jerking his hand back as soon as his warm, dry hand brushed her freezing cold and clammy fingertips.

She swiped her phone across the screen a few times, seemingly un-phased by his knee jerk reaction of touching her skin, and turned the screen so he could see it.

"She got married last year," she explained as Daryl examined the photo in front of his eyes, "That's her husband, Glenn."

Daryl gently took the phone from her hands to get a better look at the photo of her sister and her husband. Maggie wore a long white wedding dress, strapless with lace on the chest area that led all the way up to her neck. Glenn, had a suit on holding Maggie close to his side, both adorning bright teeth bearing smiles.

"She's perfect." Beth whispered. Daryl flicked his gaze between the phone and Beth a few times. Daryl let out a breath, passing the phone back to the blonde.

"That don't explain why you 'envy the hell outta her', she ain't half as pretty as you are." Daryl replied, surprised that he'd even said such a thing out loud, not missing the blush that crept into the woman's cheeks.

"She always got the attention, you know? Guys always flocked to her," She said, "like in high school. And of course now she's got the perfect husband. Perfect life."

"Bein' married don't mean you got a perfect life." He muttered, wincing as he brushed his hands over his pants, only then realizing the cuts and scrapes that were across the palms of his hands. His mother and father came into his mind at what she had said; Knowing all to well that just because you were married to someone that didn't mean that your life was perfect. Not by a long shot in his parents case.

"Are you married?" She asked innocently.

He smiled, holding his left hand up so she could see he wasn't wearing a ring. "Nah," he said, a smile tugging his lips. "Not married."

"Why not?" She asked.

"Ain't never wanted to I guess." He said, shrugging and suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Honestly, Daryl had never been asked that question before in his entire life. Not even by Carol, who seemed to specialize in interrogating him all of the time.

"I'm not either." Beth offered after a silence. "Always wanted to, though. Probably won't now, not after this."

"Don't talk like that," Daryl growled back, barely letting her finish her sentence. "You're gonna be fine, your sisters calling an ambulance."

"Why did you stay?" She asked, turning the subject 180 degrees, catching him off guard.

"What?" He asked, confused.

"I mean, when I fell asleep. Or even when I called for help. Why did you stay?" She clarified, "why didn't you just leave."

"You want the honest answer?" He finally said, raising his eyes up to hers.

"Of course." She replied weakly.

"I almost left. Heard you calling for help, but I almost got in my truck and took off." He hung his head, ashamed of his reply, even though it was the god honest truth. He wasn't in a position to lie to the girl, not in the state she was in. She didn't deserve that.

In fact, she deserved a hell of a lot more than some redneck low life asshole helping her, she deserved a hell of a lot more than that.

"But you didn't." She said, "you could've, but you didn't."

"That supposed to make me feel better 'bout it?" He asked, finding it difficult to look into her eyes.

"No…" She replied in her soft sing-song voice, "But it's true."

He didn't reply, only hung his head and avoided her kind eyes. With his head and heart pounding, his own eyes feeling heavy, and the feeling of guilt that stabbed at him like the blade of a knife, he hoped that the ambulance would arrive now.

"It's okay Daryl." She said. "You don't have to lie to me, I know I'm probably not making it out of this."

"Stop." He said, snapping his head up quickly and sending her a glare.

"I won't, Daryl. It's okay."

Daryl didn't reply, only stared at her harder. He'd heard of people becoming calm and accepting of their death as they were nearing the end, and he found himself yet again absolutely terrified at the thought of losing this girl, not knowing why she meant so much to him when he'd only known her for a few hours.

"Promise me something." She requested, coughing violently for a moment before she was able to acknowledge the nodding of his head. "Promise that you'll stay, even if... Y'know."

Daryl knew what she was getting at; "Damnit Beth, stop saying shit like-"

"Listen to me!" She almost shouted, cutting him off, "I can't be alone, not when it happens. And I know that's a lot to ask you, and you probably don't even want to but..." She trailed off, "I'm always left alone."

"Y'aint gonna be left alone." He replied, inching his way over to her and gripping her hand tightly, "Y'aint gonna die Beth, I ain't gonna let that happen."

Then she smiled, an almost eerily calm smile as she squeezed his hand tightly.

The next words she spoke startled him, and confused him. But at the same time, nothing in his meager life had ever felt so true all at once;

"You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl."

And he knew.

He knew that it didn't make sense, and that it probably was crazy, but he knew.

He knew that she was right.

He would.

* * *

"Bob! I need your help with this one!" A voice yelled out.

"He's not the priority right now, Tara!" another voice replied.

"Stookey, Ty and Rose have that handled, hook this one up to the IV." The woman's voice rang out in Daryl's ears. "He's dehydrated and he needs fluids. I'm gonna stitch up his hand, it's cut up really bad."

Daryl fought to open his eyes, only to be momentarily blinded at the brightness of a light shining in his eyes.

"Was he in the car?" The man asked.

"No, I think he was a passerby."

Finally, after a long minute of blinking rapidly and his eyes fighting to adjust to his surroundings, he was finally able to make out two faces hovering above him, a man and a woman in paramedic uniforms, and a long black flashlight shining directly into his eyes.

"Sir?" The woman asked, pulling the flashlight away, "Sir, can you hear me?"

Daryl was dumbfounded, forgetting how to speak and move simultaneously, unable to answer the woman in front of him. The woman shook her head when she realized the questions she was asking were not getting answered, sending the man across from her a brief nod.

"I'm Tara, and this is Bob." She said, shifting her position slightly, Daryl then realized the two people were lifting him onto a stretcher. "We're here to help. Please try and stay still, everything's going to be okay."

Finally, all at once, his brain caught up with what his eyes were seeing.

The night sky. Ambulance lights. The bridge. Paramedics. A Stretcher. Georgia.

_Beth_.

His eyes flicked to the right, mouth falling open as his eyes locked on to the all to familiar mangled car next to him. The only difference was, something was missing. Beth was no longer inside of it.

Daryl fought to remember how he'd ended up at this point, not knowing how the fuck he'd ended up passed out for the second time in one night. He was disoriented, he was confused, and he felt like he was hovering over his own body. But more importantly than all of that;

Where the hell was Beth?


	6. Realization

**And boom! I'm back baby! Two updates in less than 24 hours? How lucky are you lovely people?**

**I just want to say that I had an overwhelming amount of reviews and DM's and follows and favorites from this most recent chapter I posted this morning. And from the bottom of my heart, I thank you a million times over. You guys are incredible.**

**And so, here you are! Chapter six! Enjoy!**

**-stephanie**

* * *

_How To Save A Life_

_Chapter Six - "Realization"_

* * *

"I need to know about a patient."

Daryl was speaking to the woman sitting at the front desk, and he could tell simply by the woman's demeanor that she'd rather be anywhere but behind that desk at the moment. The older blonde woman's eyes were dark from exhaustion, and likely mirrored what his own looked like at that very moment.

Daryl had quickly decided that he was going to ignore the doctors orders of going home and getting rest. He'd told him that the lacerations on his hands needed to heal, and that he'd somehow managed to end up having a severe case of dehydration. But honestly Daryl didn't really give a shit about that at the moment. Right now, he needed to know about Beth.

"Last name?" The woman grumbled back without so much as lifting her eyes away from the computer screen in front of her. And damn, for the life of him he couldn't remember what the hell her last name was.

"Uh.. I'm not sure." He replied honestly. "Her name is Beth, she was in a car accident."

Finally, the woman's eyes flicked up to meet his own, and the bitch behind the desk actually _laughed_ at him.

"I'm sorry sir, but even if you did happen to know her last name, only her family is permitted inside of her room." The woman took a sip of coffee out of the mug next to her computer mouse, eyeing the opposite side of the visitors area warily; "Besides, if you're looking for who I _think_ you're looking for, you're gonna have to wait in line."

Daryl followed the woman's gaze, and locked upon what she had been looking at. The waiting area was full of people dressed in suits and ties, and the few people that weren't dressed like they were going to a wedding were setting up video cameras, or straightening the said ties or fixing the women's hair.

"The hell's all that about?" He asked the woman, unable to tear his eyes away from the group of people. He did though, but only after he'd realized the woman hadn't answered his question. She was staring at him with a look on her face that pretty much said_ 'you're kidding me, right?' _And that only pissed Daryl off. He drummed his fingers on the countertop, and raised an eyebrow at her to get the snarky bitch to elaborate.

After a moment, her face softened, and she stood up out of her chair, straightening her dark blue scrubs as she thumbed through a few files on top of the table. She flipped one open, seeming to read a few lines, occasionally looking at him from over her reading glasses, particularly eyeing his hands that were wrapped in bandages.

she rounded the counter top and stood next to him, and daryl shifted his body so he could face the woman, noticing the name on her name tag read Andrea. She sighed after a moment, pulling the same blue file out from underneath her arm.

"Are you Daryl?" She asked quietly, seeming to say it in a whisper, sending a glance over his shoulder back at the group of people behind him in the waiting area she'd been looking at before. Daryl furrowed his eyebrows together, looking over his shoulder at the people then turning his focus back to Andrea.

"Yeah. Daryl Dixon." He replied finally, suddenly feeling like he was about to he interrogated.

She flicked her eyes back to the paperwork inside the file that he was slowly coming to realize was his file; "Thirty two years old? Found at the crash sight of a 2014 Toyota Camry owned by Enterprise Rental Car?"

Daryl ran his fingers over his face; "Yeah, I'm thirty two. And the car, I dunno what the fuck it was or who it belonged to but there was a girl and her name was Beth and-"

"Shh!" She whisper-yelled at him, grabbing him by the end of his shirt and dragging him over towards the hallway, out of sight of the people in the waiting area. "You're gonna want to keep your voice down," she advised, nodding her head to get him to follow her as she headed down the hallway, "unless of course you want the whole fire brigade coming down after you."

Daryl tried his best to keep in time with the woman's walking pace. Honestly, it would make sense to say she was jogging down the hallway at the rate she was going. And not for nothing, but, fire brigade? _What the fuck was going on?_

"You mind tellin' me what the fuck is going on?" He growled at her, his patience beginning to wear thin, as she came to a halt outside of a door. There was a whiteboard hanging on the middle of it, written in blank marker was long patient number and just underneath it read the words 'Elizabeth Anne Greene'.

_Beth_.

He turned to the woman, as she placed a finger to her lips to signal him to be quiet; "Wait here."

The next few moments felt like an eternity after Andrea closed the door behind her. He could hear the faint noise of people talking, but he was unable to make out exactly what was being said behind the door. His mind was reeling, not knowing what he'd see or even what he was expecting when the door would open again.

He felt like driving his fist into the wall. He was so angry that he'd let himself slip out of consciousness for the second time that night like the fucking fool he was. He was pacing angrily, and he began to raise his fist upwards but stopped abruptly.

_"Stay who you are" _Beth's voice rang in his ears; _"Not who you were."_

So instead of punching a hole in the wall, he elected to stare at the metal curved door handle, and tried not to think to hard about the smell of the hospital that was making his nose burn. He tried not to think of the possibility of Beth dying. Tried not to think about what he'd say, or what he'd do after that.

Because now, he had no idea what happened to her after their last conversation. The one where she had said he'd miss her when she was gone.

He didn't want to entertain that thought. He didn't want to even consider that becoming a reality.

Because at the end of the day, without Beth in his life, what did Daryl have? Nothing good, that was pretty damn obvious. Nothing that would ever compare to the warm, bright and beautiful woman that was Beth Greene. Not by a fucking long shot.

He was a fool to think that he could have saved her - that was the direction that his thought process took the longer he stood outside of that damn door. He wasn't able to save Merle, so how in the hell did he ever possibly think that he could save Beth?

He didn't know. And he didn't think he ever would know why he'd thought he could.

Hell, he'd lost himself somewhere along the way, somewhere between his father and his mother and Merle and the booze and god knows what the hell else.

Tears were threatening to surface behind his burning eyes. He tried to write it off in his own mind, attributing it to the dry air of the hospitals hallway; but that was pointless. He knew damn well what was making his vision blur with tears.

He snapped his head up quickly as the woman, Andrea, emerged from the room, followed by an exhausted looking Asian man that stood maybe an inch sorter than Daryl himself. It took a moment to realize who he was looking at, but he soon figured out that it was the same man from the wedding photo Beth had shown him. Standing before him was Maggie's husband Glenn.

Andrea excused herself as Glenn outstretched his hand for Daryl to shake, and he did so numbly.

"I'm-"

"Glenn." Daryl interrupted him before he even got the chance to finish his sentence, he was done with familiarities at this point.

"Yeah," he replied, his face showing surprise that daryl knew who he was. He figured that much. "Listen, Daryl, right? I wanted to thank you for what you did for Beth. I don't even want to think about what could've happened had you not have found her down there."

Daryl didn't reply with a thank you, he instead skipped right over what Glenn had said; "Is she alright?"

Glenn's features softened a little, as he slowly clasped Daryl's shoulder, and walked towards the coffee maker a few feet away as Daryl followed behind him in suit.

"I gotta know man," Daryl growled at Glenn when he didn't respond, standing next to him as Glenn poured coffee into a styrofoam cup. "I can't take this shit, no one tellin' me nothing. I gotta know if she's alright."

Glenn sighed, placing the coffee cup on the table next to him and turned himself to face Daryl, crossing his arms over his chest and sending him a knowing look that Daryl couldn't place.

"What do you want?" Glenn asked him, his face turning serious instead of sympathetic out of nowhere.

"What do I want?" Daryl repeated Glenn's words incredulously. _What the fuck did that mean?_

"Is it money? Is that why you're still here?" Glenn now looked angry, and not for nothing, but Daryl was now pretty fucking pissed off, too.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" He said, raising his voice and stepping into Glenn's personal space, causing him to take a step backwards; "Now I know I ain't much to look at, but you better watch your fuckin' mouth. I ain't asking for _shit_ other than to see her. I gotta know she's alive."

Glenn scoffed, and Daryl was suddenly feeling like he was at his breaking point with all of the shitty attitudes he had happened to be in the presence of within the past few minutes. First that office lady Andrea and her snarky ass commentary, now there was this guy, talking to him like he wanted something in return for staying with Beth when he'd found her.

"Beth Greene." Glenn said slowly, annunciating every syllable with emphasis.

"Jesus Christ, yes!" Daryl shouted this time. "Beth _fuckin_' Greene."

Glenn eyed Daryl from head to toe, taking another step back as he shook his head, picking the coffee cup off of the table where he'd left it and nodding to have Daryl follow him back over the the room.

Daryl sucked in a breath as the door swung open and he followed Glenn inside, his eyes locking on Beth's form on the bed hooked up to numerous machines. The sight nearly broke his damn heart. She was hooked up to an oxygen tank, and she looked even paler than he'd remembered. It was only when the brunette girl sitting next to her shot up out of her chair at the sight of him that he realized that she wasn't the only person in the room.

Her stance was defensive, one hand still clasped in Beth's tightly, and the other one formed into a fist by her side. Her mouth was set in a hard, firm line, and her eyes were shooting daggers at him, freezing him in place.

It was her sister, Maggie. And for whatever reason, this woman scared the absolute hell out of him.

"Glenn." Maggie demanded, "Who the hell is this and what is he doing in here?" Maggie spoke to Glenn, but never tore her icy gaze away from Daryl.

"Maggie, calm down. This is Daryl." Glenn said, maneuvering himself over to his wife's side, and all but forcing her to look away from Daryl and at him as he spoke something low in her ear that daryl couldn't make out. He felt like he could breathe again once her eyes left his.

"What does he want?" She forced out through clenched teeth, her eyes back on Daryl's and sending a chill down his spine. Never in his life had he found a woman to be so god damn frightening.

"Nothing, Maggie. It's not what you think." Glenn said, gently placing his hands on Maggie's shoulders and pressing to get her to sit back down in her chair.

"He wants nothing from Beth Greene?" Maggie scoffed loudly, "Is that right? You want absolutely _nothing_ from Beth Greene?"

"Why the fuck do you people keep sayin' her fucking name like that?" Daryl growled, rounding the hospital bed and getting closer to the couple.

He was starting to think that everyone in this small town had lost their fucking minds.

Glenn and Maggie shared a look, confusion on Maggie's part, but almost a sympathetic one on Glenn's. He turned to face Daryl after a moment.

"You really don't know, do you?" Glenn asked, unable to mask the disbelief in his voice.

"Know what?" Daryl ground out, confused and angry and pissed off, and a million other things he couldn't pin point because he was so god damn frustrated he thought his head was going to explode.

Glenn reached next to him and grabbed a remote control, turning the flat screen tv mounted on the wall towards the door on. Glenn jerked his head towards the television and Daryl turned around to see what he was trying to show him.

"And on to today's top story." The news anchor on the tv said.

Daryl glanced back over at Glenn and Maggie behind him, "The fuck is this? You're making me watch tv right now?"

"Watch." Glenn instructed quietly, nodding at the tv for the second time to get Daryl to turn back around.

And he did.

"The twenty five year old county star was in a car accident here in Riverdale at some point last night. Reports say that the Ms. Greene was trapped inside of the vehicle for over 6 hours, an unnamed bystander managed to spot the car, which had come to a stop just below the Emerald Creek Bridge."

Daryl felt his stomach drop. Photos and video clips danced across the screen in front of him so fast he was barely able to catch it all. Beth singing at the Grand Ole Opry, Beth signing autographs in front of Good Morning America, pictures of Beth with fans, Beth at different fundraising events for children with illnesses. Beth, Beth, Beth.

"Beth Greene is currently at the local hospital in Riverdale in critical condition."

Daryl's wide eyes flicked to the left, seeing her lying on the bed hooked up to numerous machines, the walls seemed to be closing in on him as the realization hit him like a two ton fucking truck.

Now it made sense; why she had looked at him that way when he first looked into her eyes. Why she had sounded surprised when he said he didn't know the song she was singing. Why she had looked so familiar to him but he was unable to put his finger on it. Everything was slamming into him at an alarming rate.

* * *

_"I miss it sometimes." Daryl titled his head, "Georgia."_

_Daryl grunted, shifting his weight around slightly. "Can't imagine why, ain't shit out here."_

_"That's what I miss." She said sadly._

_"Why'd you leave, then?" He asked her, noticing how she narrowed her eyes at him almost immediately. Perhaps that wasn't the right question to ask._

_"Had a dream." She said almost in a whisper. "Nobody back home believed in me..."_

He broke away from his thoughts when the voice of the news anchor caught his attention again.

* * *

"I think it's safe to say she likely will not be attending the CMA Festival this year in Nashville, where she was set to be one of the first headlining acts on night two of the show. We will keep you updated on any developments as they become available."

The TV switched off, but Daryl couldn't tear himself from where he stood. He was paralyzed, or at least he felt like it. He stared at the blackness of the television screen long and hard, unable to process what he'd just seen.

"When I asked you if you wanted money, it wasn't a personal dig at you man," Glenn said slowly, finally ripping Daryl out of his trance as he turned, but to Beth's form again instead of Glenn's.

"Do you understand why, now?" Glenn said gently, "it wasn't personal."

Daryl merely nodded in response, edging himself closer to the edge of the bed across from Maggie, sitting down in the chair behind him, he sat down, and laced his fingers with hers.

He heard Glenn say something about giving them a minute, and he also heard Maggie's hushed protests before they finally walked out of the room and shut the door behind them. And as soon as he heard the door click shut behind them, Daryl dropped his head onto the hospital bed mattress, and he finally did what he'd tried so hard not to do, now that he knew Beth was alive.

_He cried._


	7. Asleep

**A/N: Hey there guys! Hope y'all had a great Labor Day weekend. I did! My moms fiance bought me the season 4 box set so im sure you can imagine what I did with my whole weekend...**

**anyways, thanks as always for all of the reviews and thangs. y'all are awesome:) **

**This chapter is slow, and kinda a filler chapter, but I thought it was nessecary at this point in the story. Hope you like it anyway.**

**i appreciate your unwavering support for this story. I hope you stay tuned cause next chapter was my favorite to write.. *insert evil laugh here* :)**

**love you guys!**

**-Stephanie**

* * *

_"How To Save A Life"_

_Chapter Seven - "Asleep"_

* * *

It took somewhere around three or four weeks for the cuts on Daryl's hands to heal up for the most part, at least to the point where he was finally able to work on the cars at the shop again.

But honestly, Daryl would have been fine if they hadn't healed at all. Would've been fine if they stayed cut up and bloody the way they were the night he had been admitted into the hospital. Would have been perfectly content if they stayed open and exposed like a belt had made his back all those years ago. If that were the case, he would still have an excuse to hide away in the hospital room by Beth's side. He'd have an excuse to sit for hours and talk to her, the way he'd never been able to talk to anyone or anything in his life. He could hear Maggie and Glenn share stories about her, and he could learn even more than he had about her already if he could have managed to just stay in that room a little bit longer.

But of course, that simply just _wasn't_ the case. So just like every other time in his life, he had to simply just suck it up and accept the cards he'd been dealt.

He knew it was probably in his best interests to delve himself into work anyway, that way he'd be able to get his mind to focus on something other than the blonde that was currently stuck in a hospital bed, looking exactly as she had the first morning after the car accident. However, Daryl's mind just simply wouldn't and couldn't focus on anything other than Beth at all times.

That damn Beth Greene; She plagued his mind constantly, and it was something he was sure he'd never be able to shake. She'd meandered herself so deep under his skin somehow, and Daryl actually found that he was okay with that.

As he turned the wrench over on the beat up Chevrolet in front of him, he thought about the events of the past weeks. How different things had become, and how drastically everything in his life had shifted. He no longer felt completely lost - even though his heart ached something awful at the fact that Beth was still in the hospital induced coma. He no longer was the shell of a man he'd once been, aimlessly following the same schedule of working and getting completely obliterated at the bar day after day and night after night.

Things had changed; Daryl had changed.

Not that it mattered none to people in this town though. He'd always be written off as Merle's companion and partner in crime, and he was pretty damn sure that wasn't ever going to change no matter what happened. Daryl had come to accept that over the years he'd been in this town. That was just how people were around here.

And he thought that was why he was actually somewhat at ease with the whole situation, being thrust into a family full of people who didn't know who he was, but more importantly, people who didn't know who Merle was. He didn't have to deal with the looks that lingered just a fracture of a second too long, didn't have to deal with the judgmental stares or whispers back and forth. The Greene's just weren't those kind of people.

The shop phone off to the right started to ring, causing Daryl to jerk himself upwards and smack the top of his head on the hood of the car. He winced and cursed as he held a hand up to his now throbbing head, making his way over to the phone on the wall and snatching it up.

"Merle's auto." He groaned into the phone, grumbling obsenities under his breath and squinting his eyes shut at the pain that was shooting through his head.

"Hey," Maggie's voice chipped through the phone line "Just the grumpy redneck I was looking for. How's work?"

"S'fine," Daryl replied trying to ignore the pain in his skull.

"What's up? Is everything alright?" He tried not to sound panicky, but every time Maggie called the shop he couldn't seem not to be.

Somehow, after a few days of icy glares that had somehow managed to not turn him into stone, Maggie had let her guard down, seeming to accept Daryl and his presence with warm and open arms. And Glenn had, too.

She'd bring him lunch during the weekend after she'd realized that was where he usually parked his ass the second he'd get off of work everyday, and she'd sit and talk to him with Glenn for hours on end about Beth. Sometimes she'd cry, and other times she'd laugh so hard she couldn't breathe as she recalled stories of their childhood together.

And he loved hearing it. Loved hearing it maybe because it was nothing like the shitty childhood he had. But mainly he loved it because he simply wanted to know everything about the Greene's. Everything about beth.

And the whole thing was something totally foreign to him. Everyone was So nice and so inviting, friendly, loving and above all else - _fucking weird._ He was out of his comfort zone in more ways than one, but he found he didn't mind. He didn't mind at all.

"Good, good." Maggie replied, and he could hear the disappointment in her voice, "still no change, though."

And he knew what that meant. The doctors had insisted on keeping her in the coma due to the swelling in her head - an attempt to reduce any chance that it would incur permanent brain damage. And that was something that Daryl found he was more afraid of than anything in his entire life.

However, this particular day was in fact the day that the doctors had decided they were going to slowly stop her sedation, and wait until her body woke herself up naturally. Or at least that's what Daryl had understood from what the doctor had explained to him the night before.

He was also told, along with Maggie and Glenn, that they should be prepared for any outcome. One of those outcomes being memory loss. And that frightened him even more. Because he had no idea what in the hell he would do if she woke up and didn't remember who he was.

"I'll be by later, y'all need anything?"

Daryl had replied, narrowing his eyes into thin dark slits as he watched his employee that was supposed to be working talking to some leggy brunette against a silver camaro just outside of the open bay of the garage.

He'd dealt with his fair share of extremely immature younger men that applied to work in his brother's shop, but this one in particular pissed him off more than usual. He bit his tounge, hoping when he looked back up he'd quit fucking around and do what he was getting paid to do. Work.

"No, I think I'll head out once you get here," Maggie explained, "Glenn's got to get back to work, and I have to do some damage control back in Nashville." He heard the exhaustion leaking out of her voice and through the telephone line as she spoke. He knew she was overworked, overtired and exhausted.

Damage control, as Daryl had eventually come to find out, was Maggie flying back and forth from the Riverdale to Nashville every so often to do a press conference or handle legal matters on Beth's behalf. It seemed that even though the accident had happened a little over a month ago, the questions and the constant pressure hadn't seemed to die down, not in the least.

"Alright, well-" Daryl covered the mouth piece of the phone as his eyes locked upon the his employee and the girl now making out across the side of the car. Daryl reached through an open car window and blared the horn of the car next to him.

"_Dolgen_! Get the fuck back to work, make out with your girlfriend on your own fuckin' time!" The guy visibly jumped at the noise of either his voice or the car horn.

He heard Maggie snickering on the other end, "Sorry," he muttered, "I'll be there in a few hours."

"Alright, sounds good." And with that, Daryl hung up the phone.

Just as he did, the skinny little pain in Daryl's ass of an employee came jogging up to him.

"Whatcha need?" He asked with a blank look on his face. Daryl scrunched his face in annoyance. Not only was this Mitch guy annoying as all hell, he was a complete idiot too.

"What do I _need_?" Daryl barked at the younger man, "I _need_ you get your scrawny ass back under the hood of that Ford over there. The fuck you think I pay you for?"

Mitch spun on his heels without a word, heading towards the vehicle at the other end of the garage, and Daryl glared at the back of his head the entire way.

Babysitting. That's what this place had seemed to make him do at all times lately. It wasn't as much of a garage as it was a God damn daycare center.

With a roll of his eyes, and another rub to the quickly forming welt on the top of his head, he forced himself back under the hood of the Chevrolet. He had time to kill before he was able to close up shop and head down to the hospital.

He wasn't sure if he was looking forward to being alone with beth or not. And that was mainly because his thoughts were probably going to drive him insane as he sat there with her.

When Glenn and Maggie were there, he was able to pass the time with mild conversation. But when he was alone with her, he started to lose his mind over the thoughts of what the outcome of all of this would be. He'd stare at her, stare at the healing gash on the crown of her head. Stare at the beads of sweat that would form over her brow in the dark of the night. Watch as she slept peacefully, watch as he sat there twiddling his thumbs and tried not to think of the worst possible outcome of the situation.

Eventually, he finished his work. An hour and fifteen minutes later, he shut the hood of the Chevy and clambered himself into the small and air conditioned office to write up his invoices and get the hell out of there.

Time almost seemed to stand still lately, agonizingly so. Wether he was at the hospital with Beth or wether he was at the shop. Time was his worst, and most constant enemy at the moment.

He had to get the hell out of the shop, he was becoming increasingly annoyed with Mitch's presence and was becoming tired of listening to the constant noise of metal hitting metal. He needed to get the fuck out of there and get to the hospital already.

The bell chimed at the front, and he lifted his gaze from his paperwork just as Carol walked inside.

He knew he'd see her here eventually, especially considering his presence had been completely absent at his small cabin and at the bar. She had always sought him out, checking up on him every now and again when he'd seem to disappear off of the face of the earth.

The last time was when he'd all but locked himself in his cabin the first two weeks after Merle had died. Nobody had heard from him, and as soon as the word spread about Merle's passing it didn't take long for Ms. Peletier to come knocking on his door.

"There you are, been looking all over this town for you." She said kindly, placing her bag on top of the counter as Daryl continued about his paperwork, "figured I'd find you here sooner or later."

He grunted in response with a shrug of his shoulders, not really knowing how to respond other than the way he had.

"Been worried about you, you know." She said after a beat, "Haven't seen you around in quite a few weeks. You been staying outta trouble?"

"No worse for wear," he replied, taking the stack of papers and shoving them haphazardly into a drawer behind the desk.

"M'fine." He clarified after she didn't answer dismissingly waving his hand in the air, and he saw the confused look on her face; "Been busy."

"You know me, just making sure you're alright." She said, "where have you been?"

"Been busy," he repeated. "Workin' at the shop and shit, stayin' occupied"

it wasn't a lie, but he couldn't help feeling a little guilty he wasn't telling Carol everything.

He trusted Carol, sure. He'd known the woman forever and she may as well be family, but Maggie and Glenn's advice ran clear through his eardrum at all times when he'd even entertain the thought of saying where he was going when he'd head down to the hospital.

_"Don't mention her, don't say you know her or that you're here to see her." Maggie said, "trust me, that's the last thing any of us need right now. The public will go nuts with that. It'll be nothing short of a nightmare."_

"You look tired." She commented, cocking her head to the side and examining his features.

That was fair, and he assumed he looked that way to anyone that got close enough to see the bags underneath his eyes.

Hell, he was tired. He couldn't remember the last time that he'd gotten a good full night of sleep in the past month, but he'd have the former over the latter where Beth was concerned. Considering that him being at the hospital by her bed was the exact reason why he'd been sleep deprived lately.

"Yeah," he grumbled, looking for his truck keys under the desk, "heading home now, need to get some sleep."

That was a lie though, _shit._

"Call me if you need anything, besides, Sophia misses her uncle Daryl." She smiled brightly, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Tell the little sprout I'll see 'er soon, I ain't forgot about 'er."

Carol nodded, walking out the door just as Daryl began to close up the shop for the day.

* * *

"It's healing really well."

The doctor spared a supportive smile to Maggie and Daryl as he lowered Beth's hospital gown back down over her stomach, but not before Daryl could catch the pink stitched together wound on the right side of Beth's flat and pale stomach.

"What about the swelling?" Maggie asked, referring to the wound on her sisters head.

The doctor paused for a moment, lifting the blonde locks away from the slice on her scalp; "it appears to be healing really well as far as the cut is concerned, but I'll have to send her in for another scan before we can determine wether the swelling has reduced significantly or not."

Daryl, who had one elbow resting on the armrest of the chair spared a sideways glance at Maggie. She was chewing on her thumbnail and leaning forward, her eyebrows were knit together in only what Daryl could assume was concern as she thought about the doctors words.

"When will that be?" Glenn spoke up, standing off in the corner with his arms crossed.

The doctor walked back over to the clipboard he'd placed on one of the counters over on the other side of the room and flipped through the papers attached to it.

"She's scheduled for one tomorrow morning anyway, from what I see here." He said, tucking the clipboard underneath his arm. "I'll see if we can possibly get her in this evening, but I don't want to promise you anything."

And with that, and a subtle nod of his head, he was gone.

But Daryl just sat in place, staring at Beth where she was lying on the bed in front of him; Her head lolled onto her shoulder, breathing deeply on her own now, and she seemed peaceful to him.

"You ready?" Glenn asked, and daryl turned to watch Maggie as she shook her head at nothing in particular, coming to a stand and patting down the end of her dress, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Let us know." Maggie said, turning to face Daryl. "About anything, anything at all." She added quickly as Glenn placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I will." He said as they turned to walk out the door.

And he stayed there. He stayed in that chair he was sitting in, only leaving when he knew he absolutely had to; to use the bathroom or something to that effect.

He stayed there in that same spot, ignoring the crick in his neck and the ache in his back from sitting in the same position for twelve plus hours.

He stayed until he had to leave for the shop the next morning.


	8. Yellow Flowers

**A/N: Good afternoon everyone:) I meant to get this updated last night, but I fell asleep. This week has been exhausting. Working in Florida at a hurricane shutter company is no bullshit man, I tell you what.**

**I have to say (and I know I say a version of this every single time I post a new chapter, but this is serious) the responses between now and my last update were so overwhelmingly amazing that I cannot even put itinto words. You guys sharing the story and loving it as much as you do keep me going. More than you'll ever know. You guys amaze me. This fandom is unreal.**

**So here's chapter eight, hope y'all enjoy it.**

**Until next time ;)**

**-Stephanie**

* * *

_How to Save a Life_

_Chapter Eight - "Yellow Flowers"_

* * *

_It was dark._

_"Promise me something."_

_He heard the voice through the darkness. He looked down from where he was at and towards the sound of a woman's voice, one that seemed way too familiar for his liking._

_Before his eyes, although hazy and a little different than he remembered, was a scene he was all to familiar with; A girl trapped in a mangled sedan, with a rough and sweaty looking man sitting beside her._

_The woman coughed violently for a moment before she was able to acknowledge the nodding of the mans head._

_His head._

_It was him. And the girl was Beth._

_"Promise that you'll stay, even if... Y'know."_

_Daryl felt like he was hovering over his own body, watching in a state of what he could only feel was absolute horror. As if he was reliving a nightmare all over again._

_He watched his facial expression become twisted in anger before growling at her; "Damnit Beth, stop saying shit like-"_

_"Listen to me!" She shouted as loud as she could manage to, effectively cutting him off, "I can't be alone, not when it happens. And I know that's a lot to ask you, and you probably don't even want to but..." She trailed off, "I'm always left alone."_

_He felt his heart crack a little bit, seeing the heartbreak etched across her face and hearing her voice again, so clear and so vivid, almost as if this wasn't all a dream._

_"Y'aint gonna be left alone." He replied, inching his way over to her and gripping her hand tightly, as he watched the scene unfold yet again before his very eyes. "Y'aint gonna die Beth, I ain't gonna let that happen."_

_He watched as she smiled slowly, that eerily calm smile as she squeezed his hand tightly. The one that haunted him every single day since he'd woken up at the hospital._

_"You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl."_

* * *

The clank of silverware stirred Daryl from his sleep.

Slowly, he began to open his eyes as they adjusted to the light filtering through the blinds of the hospital room window.

He tried to shake the feeling that was now lodged deep in his bones from the dream he had just awoken from. Truth be told, it was more like he was watching a memory behind his closed eyelids; His mind playing some sick game of torture with him.

It was Saturday, or at least Daryl thought it was. He'd managed to get himself through work that week and ended up at the hospital again Friday night. So unless he slept longer than he thought, it was probably Saturday morning.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you." The woman muttered under her breath, a woman that Daryl didn't recognize. A woman that wasn't wearing scrubs and didn't look like she worked at the hospital.

"S'alright." He grumbled, voice raspy and cracking as he rubbed his eyes with his fist, adjusting his back straighter in the chair as he sat up.

"You must be Daryl." She said, straightening herself up as well, moving a tray of half eaten hospital food over to a table next to her and flipping her long curly ponytail over her shoulder to lay it across her back. "I'm Patricia."

Patricia, as he had heard about from Maggie and Glenn, was a friend of the Greene's; A surrogate mother in a way as far as Beth was concerned. She'd stepped in after Beth's mother Annette had died all of those years ago. Now, after her father had became I'll, she took care of the older man from what Daryl understood. He nodded subtly, straightening his back up a little bit more than he already had in the chair that was becoming increasingly more stiff every single day.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out; Patricia being in this room could only mean one thing. Beth's father had to be in the room, or somewhere nearby.

He didn't look right away, but his keen senses made him suddenly become more than aware of a body next to him, and he was pretty sure he knew who it was without looking.

"Mornin' son." The man said, the voice laced with a thick southern drawl much like his own. He had to absolutely force himself to look at the man seated to his right, more than aware of the fact that this was his baby girl lying in the bed. Suddenly, he felt that same feeling he'd felt when he first laid eyes on Maggie the day after the accident. Apprehensive and nervous as all get out.

"Mornin'." He grumbled with his sleep-laden voice. "M'Daryl." He held his hand out for the man to shake, and he did so politely.

The man, who hadn't outright said he was her father, was older than Daryl had imagined he would be. He had short white hair, and a receding hair line, probably in his sixties or seventies from what he could tell. He didn't know what he was expecting, because honestly he hadn't really thought about it all that much, but it wasn't what he'd imagined he'd look like.

"I know who you are," he said, and Daryl felt himself cringe in anticipation of what he would follow that with, "I've heard a lot about you."

Daryl looked forward towards Beth as he continued, focusing on the small sliver of blonde hair that was lying across her face and moving gently with each breath she took.

"I wanted to thank you for saving my Bethy," he said quietly, almost as if he would disturb her if he spoke too loud, "she's my angel, I couldn't be more grateful that you were there to help her."

"Just did what I needed to do, ain't nothin' nobody else wouldn'tve done." He replied quietly, gnawing on the skin on his right thumb.

"But it was you, son." Hershel replied, "It very well could've been anyone else, and if it were, I'd be thanking that person just the same."

Daryl nodded, because the words 'thank you' that he had tried to force out got stuck in his throat, even though he knew that was what he was supposed to say. He was never good at this kind of shit. Ever.

"Me too," Patricia chimed in, walking over to open the blinds a little bit and adjusting the flowers that were in a vase by the windowsill, "I don't know what I'd do without my favorite little ray of sunshine."

Daryl agreed with a more noticeable nod of the head at Patricia's statement, adjusting his body again in the seat uncomfortably. He agreed with that statement more than he cared to admit, the girl was a ray of sunshine, to anyone it seemed.

"Just glad she's alright." He finally managed to say, exchanging a glance with Patricia across from him and then Hershel beside him briefly.

And he was. Not that she was in the greatest of conditions at the moment, but it definitely could be worse.

"As am I, Daryl." Hershel replied, clapping a hand onto his shoulder and giving it a squeeze, "As am I."

Daryl fell silent for a moment, unsure of what to say or even what he should say. He was still completely rattled from his dream this morning that focusing on anything but that was difficult enough. Let alone carrying on a conversation with the father of a woman that he was pretty sure he had feelings for. Even though that didn't make much sense to him at all.

He'd be lying to himself and everyone around him if he denied that fact any longer than he already had been. And truthfully, he felt it was a dishonor to do so to her.

Because he knew, just as well as everyone else did, that she was _Beth_. Beth was different than any woman, or person for that matter, that he'd ever met in his entire life. She was the kind of girl that deserved to be told that she was cared for, that she was loved. And Daryl had decided to quit lying to himself about it not very long ago. He loved the girl probably more than he really realized he did.

"The doctor said the swelling has gone down a lot quicker than they expected." Hershel commented, snapping Daryl away from his thoughts. "I reckon she'll be waking up any moment now."

"Lord willing." Patricia agreed, rubbing the small silver cross that hung from her neck between her thumb and forefinger gently, her gaze locking on Beth a few feet away.

"She's a fighter, my Bethy." The older man said, reaching forward to rub his fingers along her calf that was exposed from the hospital blanket. "Always has been."

"She's a strong girl." Daryl agreed. Knowing that any person that pulled through this was in fact just that, stronger than all hell.

"Just like her Mama." Hershel said quietly, taking a deep breath and settling himself more comfortably back into his chair.

He silently thanked God for not having to sit in another moment of uncomfortable silence, because just as Hershel finished his last sentence, the door to the room opened and in walked Maggie, her high heels clicking across the tile floor as she made her way into the room.

"Maggie, dear." Hershel cooed, lifting his arms up to hug his eldest daughter, to which she returned warmly.

She greeted Patricia with another warm hug, and made her way over to Beth, planting a kiss on her forehead gently as she leaned over the bed.

Daryl had taken Maggie's entrance as a cue to himself to zone back out, focusing on the only thing in the room he ever focused on.

"Oi, redneck." Maggie called Daryl by her favorite nickname for him lately. He raised an eyebrow in amusement as she waved her hand over her shoulder for him to follow her.

"Can't have you looking like were starving you when my sister wakes up." She joked as Daryl rolled his eyes and stood up out of the chair, knowing exactly where she was going with the conversation;

"C'mon, let's go get you somethin' to eat."

* * *

Daryl knew that If Merle could see him right now, he would likely be laughing his ass off.

Daryl stood in the supermarket the next day feeling so out of place that he didn't know what to do with himself. And He'd become more than aware of the looks on the faces of the people that had passed by him over the past few minutes, and judging by their faces, he knew he must have looked just as much if not more out of place than he already felt.

He was standing in the florist section, not knowing how his feet had all but found a mind of their own and dragged him over in front of the obnoxiously large display of colorful flowers tucked into beautiful glass vases.

He wasn't even staring at the flowers, he was _glaring_ at them. Glaring at them almost as if they'd done something to deserve some sort of severe and asinine form of punishment from him. Glaring at them like they'd insulted him in one way or another. And that in of its self was absolutely ridiculous.

"This is fuckin' stupid" he muttered under his breath, running a hand vigorously over his face, trying to get a grip on himself. He was acting like a thirteen year old boy on valentines day for fucks sake.

He knew he looked like an idiot, and he knew he'd been standing there for well over ten minutes. Not only that, but he had seen the woman behind the counter of the floral department send him a glance a few times, and he knew that she was probably having an internal debate with herself on wether she should go over and help him out or not. He figured the scowl that was plastered across his face was the key factor in keeping herself at a safe distance. He couldn't blame her for that.

Meanwhile, Daryl himself was having a debate in his own mind, wondering if it was the right thing to do; to bring flowers to Beth's bedside. Not that she'd really know the difference between the ones he'd brought and the countless other bouquets sent to her from fans across the country and the ones brought to her by her family.

But the thing about that was, he found himself _wanting_ her to know the difference.

And that just made the whole damn thing even more difficult than it already was.

He was waiting for Merle's smartass commentary to make it's long overdue comeback, but he found that it didn't. He wasn't sure if he was relieved by that or if he was annoyed because honestly - Merle calling him a pussy in the back of his head might make him snap the hell out of his confused state and actually do something; Opposed to just standing there in front of the roses like the damn fool he knew he appeared as to everyone around him in the store.

He looked around the display once more, and this time there was one bouquet in particular that caught his attention. It stood out in contrast to the other ones; A dozen yellow roses, separated neatly by tulips and daisies that had the same color on the petals. They were placed in a frosted glass vase that was tinted the same color as the petals with a small matching bow towards the middle where it dipped inwards. He probably knew in the back of his mind how perfect it was for her, but apparently, at the moment, focusing his meaningless glare at them for a minute instead of just picking them up was the better option.

He grabbed the neck of the vase rather aggressively after a few more minutes, muttering _fuck it_'s and w_hat the fuck am I doing_'s under his breath as he made his way to the cashier. He paid for the stupid fucking flowers and got the hell out of the damn store.

He sat the vase on the floorboard of his truck, securing it as best he could from tipping over by surrounding it with the shop towels and other miscellaneous items thrown haphazardly around his vehicle. With an exasperated sigh, he got in the truck, annoyed with himself at how he'd let something that was so damn simple make him so flustered, and made his way back on over to the hospital.

The walk up to Beth's room was always agonizingly long. The hallways and the time it took the elevator to get to the fifth floor seemed to get longer every single time he came here. His mind played tricks on him that way; it always had.

He walked into the room slowly, taking his time to walk over to the windowsill and place the flowers down. The sound of the vase being placed onto the ceramic of the window pane seemed to resound through the small room; It was the only sound besides the monitor beeping, the monitor keeping track of Beth's heartbeat.

He fiddled with the ends of the petals of the flowers, staring at them without reason as the minutes ticked on by. He imagined it was around noon by that point in time. And if that were the case, Glenn and Maggie would be showing up here any minute.

He spared a glance out the window and down towards the small crowd of news anchors by the entrance to the small hospital. He felt his nose crinkle in annoyance that they were still here, camping out in front of the hospital as if it was the most important thing in the world.

And Daryl would be the first one to tell you just how important beth was; but you wouldn't catch him dead taking part in or condoning the behavior ensued by the Television reporters down below.

They were disrespectful, annoying, relentless, and above all else, they made Daryl sick to his god damn stomach.

About a week before this particular day, he'd ended up having to be calmed down and all but restrained by Maggie after watching a particularly false, and completely fabricated interview on a national television outlet. The news anchor had insinuated that Beth was driving under the influence the night of the accident, and that her intoxication had been the real reason behind her losing control of her vehicle. He saw red blur his vision, and he'd shot up out of the chair so quickly, with the intention of marching downstairs and beating the absolute hell out of one of the local news anchors, until Maggie gripped him by the shoulders and forced him to relax.

He ran a hand through his hair, thumbing the flower petals between his fingers again slowly, feeling the need to sit down, but he didn't want to just yet. He knew that once he sat down and started talking to her, and watching her sleep, that he wouldn't move from that spot for the rest of the day.

"I gotta say," he heard a voice behind him speak, and he whipped his head around so quickly he was surprised it didn't do a complete circle and twist right off of his body; "I didn't peg you for a flower kinda guy."

He blinked rapidly at the sight before him; Beth Greene as she had been for the past few weeks, messy blonde hair, donned in a blue specked hospital gown, and tucked neatly underneath the scratchy white sheets. She was beautiful, bright and almost glowing in the sunlight filtering through the blinds. But looking at her this time was different.

That was because this time, she was awake.


	9. Promise Kept

**Good god. Between the bethyl fandom and my relentless obsessing, I'm on the fast track to getting no sleep and getting no work done. This is all I ever think about!**

**Shout outs going to all of my bethyl ghost chat babes that had a complete freak out when they realized that this story was mine, (looking at you, ash!) I got some awesome reviews and thangs from my favorite girls. You guys are awesome.**

**I'll have a new cover for my story soon! Thanks to the one and only, and absolutely lovely Christy aka Sassygirl. If you haven't read her stories then SHAME ON YOU.**

**This is a happy chapter, except for some painful reminiscing in the first part, but you'll see why. Ya know, cause, apparently I just like to kill y'all with the feels as much as I possibly can :)**

**Keep the reviews coming! You guys inspire me to update so quickly. I love y'all to death.**

**Enjoy!**

**Bethyl on, my friends. Bethyl on.**

**-Stephanie**

* * *

_How to Save a Life_

_Chapter Nine - "Promise Kept"_

* * *

The scent that slowly wafted into her nostrils instantly made her sick to her stomach. Overall, It was distinct, putrid, and all too familiar too her - and it didn't take too long for her to identify exactly what it was, especially after she opened her eyes and became aware of her surroundings.

She took all of it in slowly; She was lying in a bed, in a room with dull white colored walls donned with framed paintings of landscapes. The room was well lit by the sun streaming through what was probably the window, and she had a thin white bracelet around her wrist, complete with her full name and patient number.

She was in a hospital.

The last time she'd been in a hospital, much like this one, she was an emotional wreck; Running like hell from the room where Shawn's body was lifelessly lying on a bed much like the one she currently was in. She didn't allow herself to stay in there very long, bolting out the door before she'd even realized she had done so. The words spoken by the doctor turned into nothing more than a dull murmur as she felt like the walls were closing in around her. Suffocating her.

She had to get the hell out of there, and she had to do it fast.

And so, she did.

That was the first thing Beth thought of when she had awoken from her coma. Mostly because the smell that was so distinctly hospital-like reminded her of the morning she'd arrived to the hospital in Atlanta after her brothers accident.

She'd been too late. She had ran down the hallway so quickly, she remembered, all but tripping over herself in the process, only to burst into the room to find Maggie sobbing inconsolably, tucked into her fathers side as he tried his best to soothe her and get to her to breathe regularly.

She'd been able to push that particular memory out of her head ever since, but as soon as she awoke in the hospital that day, it all came flooding back to her.

Movement to the right of where she laid caught her attention, and she turned her head ever so slightly to see what it was. She felt her breath catch somewhere in her throat as she took in the tall man staring out the window; Broad shoulders, long dark brown hair, and a leather vest that had a large set of tattered and faded angel wings, stretching from his shoulder blades all the way down to the base of his spine.

Even without seeing his face, she knew without a shadow of a doubt who it was. But truthfully, she convinced herself that she must be dreaming. She _had_ to be.

This was because, in her mind, there was absolutely no way that the man, Daryl, would be here. There was no way that he had come back to the hospital - because it was clear that he had changed his clothes. Gone was the black t-shirt and worn khakis she had met him in, replaced with a long sleeve button down, angel winged vest and dark blue jeans.

She watched in awe as he thumbed the petal of a yellow rose between his fingers, staying silent as he stared down at the vase and beautiful bouquet of flowers, looking completely lost in thought. She figured she should speak up, because she was gawking at him like a little girl. She feared he'd catch her, and she just knew that she wouldn't be able to not look like she had just been caught with her hand in a cookie jar.

"I gotta say," she finally spoke, her voice sounding foreign, even to her own ears, "I didn't peg you for a flower kinda guy."

When he turned around, She had to choke back the laugh that bubbled in her chest at the look on his face. He had turned around so quickly that she was surprised she had even seen him do so. He looked at her with wide eyes, but he didn't speak. He opened his mouth a few times, but snapped it back shut, almost as if he didn't know what to say or do.

Beth didn't know what to say or do herself, really. Mostly because of the dumbfounded and almost comical look etched across Daryl's features. Everything that had happened was slowly sinking in, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep up with it all. Her head was spinning, and she felt dizzy from it all.

"Beth." He finally whispered, finally gathering himself and crouching down beside her, looking at her face like he'd just found a unicorn. That, too, made her smile affectionately at him.

She was taken by surprise when he reached up and laced his fingers with hers. Looking down to where their hands were joined on the bedsheet. Her pale white hand and his scarred, tanned one; Fitting like a puzzle piece together, and somehow it just felt right.

"You're here." She finally said, reaching up with her other hand and holding the side of his face, the stubble of his short beard scratching the underside of her palm as he leaned into her touch. It was almost as if it wasn't real until the moment she felt his skin touch hers. Her heart swelled in her chest uncontrollably, unable to comprehend what she was feeling at the moment.

"I'm here." He agreed, squeezing her hand gently. "I'm here."

She smiled at him, feeling tears prick at her eyes as they watered beyond her control. It was an odd thing; How touchingly beautiful this moment was to her, and how it seemed as though nothing else in the world really mattered, except for Daryl and herself.

She rubbed her thumb back and forth gently, sweeping across his defined cheekbone with every move of her finger. Finally taking in for the first time just how beautiful the man before her really was. Inside and out. She didn't know how she hadn't realized it before this moment.

He suddenly backed away, moving to stand upright; "I should go get the doctor." He said, but not moving from the spot he was in. Almost as though he wanted her permission to leave.

"No, stay." She said, reaching for his hand again, "Just for a little bit, please." And he nodded, returning himself back to his previous position next to her, sitting down in the chair behind him and moving it as close as he possibly could.

"How do ya feel?" He asked, brushing her hair away from her head to look at the place she remembered she'd hurt in the accident.

Truthfully, when she thought about it, she wasn't in any pain at all. She felt a little weary, tired, even. But that was normal, she assumed.

"Tired." She confessed, taking a deep breath and tracing the lines on the back of his hand. "Really tired, actually."

"Tired?" He asked, shaking his head at her incredulously. He had that look again, like she'd grown three heads. "How in the hell could ya be tired? Ya slept for over a month"

"I what?" Beth replied automatically, not able to comprehend what he said entirely.

Daryl looked away, down to where their hands were joined together, as he began to explain; "They kept ya sedated because of the swelling in your head," he said quietly, his eyes flicking up to meet hers a few times; "they were afraid that ya were going to have permanent brain damage."

Beth let his words sink in, as much as she possibly could. She had been in a coma for over a month? She shook her head in disbelief, even though she knew it was true. Daryl wouldn't lie to her about something to this magnitude; That, she was absolutely certain of.

Suddenly, she realized the truth behind his words; What he was really saying, without coming right out with it. It was the way he had said that the doctors were afraid - how his voice cracked and became strained and quiet. He had been afraid, too.

"Daryl, I-" she cut herself off, not really knowing what she should say, because truthfully, she was at a loss for words. So instead, she reached up and cupped the side of his face again, smiling at him. And finally, for the first time since she had woken up, he smiled back.

"I gotta go get the doctor, Beth." He said, giving her hand one more firm squeeze, "I'll be right back, I promise."

She didn't want to let him go, and she thought for sure that he didn't want to either, but he had to. She knew that. And so, She nodded her head, and watched as he silently and quickly made his way from her bedside and out into the hospital hallway.

A few moments later an older man, the doctor, walked in as Daryl followed him inside with his hands in his front pockets. The doctor asked her a few trivial questions; How she was feeling, if she was in any pain, what the last thing she remembered was.

But truth be told, she wasn't really focusing on anything he was saying. She was more or less focussing all of her attention on Daryl as he hovered by the side of her.

"Well, I'm sure you're happy to see your girlfriend is awake again." The man said kindly, smiling broadly at Daryl who's face instantly looked as if he'd been kicked by a horse.

"He's not-" beth stammered, looking between the doctor and daryl helplessly "I mean-"

Beth struggled with her words, partly due to the look on Daryl's face, and partly because she initially accepted what the doctor had said as a true fact. She wasn't sure which one scared the hell out of her more.

"He's-" the older man smiled, seeming to understand what Beth was trying to say. He raised his hands up, halting her as she struggled to explain.

"It's alright," he said kindly, sending her and Daryl a knowing look, one that she couldn't quite place. "I must have been mistaken, I apologize."

Beth smiled back, trying to ease the tension in the room that had instantly became so thick it made her feel all kinds of awkward. And not for nothing, but Daryl's neck and cheeks had flared a deep shade of red, and suddenly he was Unable to look at the doctor, or her, in the eye at all.

Let us know if you need anything, Ms. Greene." He said with another smile, nodding curtly and escorting himself back out of the room.

Much to her surprise, daryl had instantly reached for her hand the second the older man was out of the room, lacing his fingers through her own in the same way as earlier, smiling at her shyly. The blush from the doctors comment still bright and red across his cheekbones.

"Shit." He mumbled quickly, shifting his weight to pull what Beth saw was a cell phone out of his pocket. But she couldn't help but laugh, remembering the night of the accident when he had fumbled with her cell phone, not knowing how to operate it.

Of course, it was some sort of basic cell phone, one that would flip open and reminded her of the first one she had back in high school. She remembered he'd said he didn't have one, so she knew that this little piece of technology was something he had gotten after the accident.

"Yeah. Hey, ya on your way?" He said into the receiver, "yeah, she's awake." She raised an eyebrow at him questioningly, and he mouthed the word 'Maggie'.

"'Bout ten minutes ago." He grumbled into the line. A pause. "She's good, doctor just came in 'n checked on 'er."

She smiled at him, and he smiled back as he ended the call, silencing Maggie and the questions she knew she was badgering him with by the look on his face. She wasn't sure which surprised her more, the fact that he had a cell phone, or the fact that he'd just called her sister on it.

"Maggie's on 'er way." He said, tucking the phone back into the back pocket of his jeans. "'Bout ten minutes she said, which really means five minutes. Fuckin' speed demon." Beth giggled at his commentary.

"So." She said quietly, suddenly unable to look at him in the eye. "I guess the cats outta the bag, huh?"

One of the things that she'd noticed when she had woken up was the overwhelmingly large display of cards, flowers, and stuffed animals that likely were from all across the country. She knew that Daryl had to have found out by this point that she wasn't just any girl named Beth. She was the recording artist, Beth. Beth _Greene_.

She'd feared for this moment ever since the beginning; That he'd find out who she really was and that he'd hightail it the hell out of there. He didn't seem like the type to want anything at all to do with something like that. Someone like her.

But here he was. He was still here.

"I guess ya didn't think to mention that you're some famous singer, did ya?"

Beth tucked her head down, ashamed. "I'm sorry." She said, scrambling to find the words to explain herself, "I just thought-"

"Hey." He cut her off, reaching up to tuck the wild strays of her blonde and embarrassingly frizzy hair behind her ear. "That don't matter none, ya hear? Not to me."

She felt her heart swell again, as though it was going to bubble up and come straight out of her chest. She tried her best to control the shit eating grin that was about to split her face in half, rolling into her side to face him.

She winced at the movement, though. A pain emanating from the side of her abdomen like it had during the accident. Daryl's face twisted into panic for a moment before she waved him off, reaching for the hem of her hospital gown and lifting it up to examine what was hurting her.

When she saw it, she finally understood why he had looked so pale faced when he'd looked at her side with his flashlight in the car. There was a wound that'd healed for the most part, but was at least five inches long, sewn together with stitches. She didn't know exactly what it was, but she knew it had to've looked a hell of a lot worse the night that he'd found her.

"Piece of the engine," he explained quietly, answering her unvoiced question. Looking into her bright blue eyes as she longingly looked back into his. "Was in there pretty deep."

"I knew it was somethin'." she confessed as she ran her fingers over the jagged and raised pink tissue, "I didn't know it was this bad. Still kinda hurts."

He squeezed her hand as she spoke, comforting her, she assumed.

"Thanks for not telling me," she said with a laugh, "I probably would have freaked out."

"Yeah, better me than you." He replied, a smirk playing on his lips as he ran his fingers over the back of her hand gently.

"Daryl, I don't know what to say." She said, pulling her gown back down and grabbing their entwined hands with her free hand, "you being here, you staying.. It means the world to me."

"I made ya a promise, Beth. I told ya I wasn't gonna leave. I'm keepin' that promise."


	10. Home

**A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU.**

**I can't say that enough. You guys are just so wonderful. I'm sorry that I'm so awful at returning messages to your reviews but please know I smile like a god damn fool every time I read them. You guys are incredible.**

**Thank you for supporting this story the way you have been. Sharing it, talking about it on Facebook and tumblr. I can't believe it sometimes, I'm just so glad I can write something y'all enjoy.**

**A tremendous THANK YOU goes out to Christy for this wonderful new cover I have for my story. My bae. My bethyl sister for life. Sister from another mister. You get the point.**

**LOOK AT IT. It's so beautiful.**

**I hope you've all been enjoying the happiness, because get ready. A storm's a comin'. *evil laugh***

**this is by far the longest chapter I've ever written for any multi-chapter story. It's a beast. And I is proud. I is proud.**

**Love you guys, until next time ;)**

**-Stephanie**

* * *

_How to Save a Life  
_

_Chapter Ten - "Home"_

* * *

Beth bounced her knee up and down nervously, the heel of her boot tapping anxiously against the ceramic tile beneath her feet.

She could hear the faint sounds coming from the next room over; The clicking of cameras and the voice of Mr. Porter speaking to the reporters even though she couldn't hear exactly what he was saying. She was nervous, and even though she knew what she was going to say, especially considering that she'd gone over it a hundred times with Maggie that very morning, her nerves were still managing to get the best of her.

"You're gonna do fine, Beth. Stop worryin'"

Daryl squeezed her knee supportively, sitting next to her on a plastic folding chair much like the one she sat in herself. Her nervous energy seemed to not have an sort of effect on him at all. He simply sat there supporting her the entire time.

"I know," she agreed, trying to sound confident even though her voice was betraying her. She sounded just as nervous as she really felt. "I just hate doing these things. People say stuff that's not true and I-"

"Don't pay 'em any mind." He said, rubbing his fingers across her knee that was exposed by the yellow dress she was wearing, "you know the truth, that's all that matters."

She nodded, not really knowing how a few simple words from him could make her feel suddenly back at ease. She leaned her head onto his shoulder as he continued the soothing strokes over her kneecap.

It was strange, how this whole thing had come together. And it was strange how she felt as though the void she had felt in her life for so long had finally been filled simply by having Daryl in her presence. It'd been three weeks since she'd woken up from her coma, and only one week since she'd been released. Of course, she'd been released with the strict orders of taking it easy for the next month or so. That really only meant one thing; No touring. After the doctor had released her and they had returned back to Nashville, Maggie had immediately postponed every concert she was expected to do within the next two months.

And it was funny, thinking back on the day of the accident. How she'd begged for Maggie to let her have just o_ne night off. _She'd gotten her wish, even though it wasn't exactly in the way she had expected it. But even then, she wouldn't have it any other way, even if she could.

She wouldn't change it for the world, because if she did, she never would have met the man she was sitting next to. Would have never felt the butterflies that seemed to permanently reside in her stomach every single time that she thought of him. Every single time he looked at her. Every single time he touched her.

What they were though, she didn't know. She knew that the way he looked at her, and the way that he touched her, was way more than any friend ever would. Sure, they were innocent touches; The twining of their hands together, a slight bumping of shoulders, an embrace that lasted just a few seconds too long, even. And although she considered Daryl to be her friend, she knew deep down inside that it was something more than just that. She wanted it to be something more than that. She needed it to be.

The door to the conference room opened slightly, and out popped Maggie's head and hand, beckoning her to come forward and step inside the room. With one more reassuring squeeze to her knee, and a nod of his head, she stood up, grabbing his hand to pull him right along with her.

But she stopped when she realized he wasn't moving, still holding her hand, but not standing up from his seat.

"Come with me, please?" She said, making it more of a statement laced with pleading more than the question that it really was.

"You can handle this, beth." He said, dropping his eyes somewhere between her eyes and her collarbone, making her shiver. "Ya don't need me in there, you're the strongest girl I know. It ain't got nothin' to do with me anyways."

"I know, Daryl. But please?" She said, stepping closer and squeezing his hand impossibly tighter in her own, "you saved me. You saved my life. You're more a part of this than anyone else in that room."

He dropped his eyes to the ground after she finished, seeming not to know what to say, seeming not to know how to tell her no.

"I need you in there. I _want_ you in there. With me." She said, watching as his eyes slowly traveled back up to her own. "Please?"

"Alright."

* * *

Daryl stood on one side of Maggie, while Beth stood on the opposite. That was because as much as she wanted to stand next to him and hold his hand, she knew that she couldn't. Not here. Not in front of all of the cameras and questioning eyes.

"Entertainment weekly, GAC, CMT, Fox News." Maggie whispered into her ear, "And that's not even half of the list."

"You sure know how to make me feel better about all this Mags," Beth replied quietly, unable to resist her eyes as they rolled in annoyance.

"I just want you to be prepared. You went over what Mr. Porter told you again, right?"

"Course I did."

"Okay, good." Maggie said, returning to face forward, plastering her million dollar smile across her face. Beth herself couldn't seem to do the same for the life of her. Instead, she scanned the crowd, feeling uneasy.

"And now Ms. Greene, if you'd come on up here please." Mr. Porter said into the microphone, jogging her away from her trance. She glanced over at Daryl for the reassuring nod that she knew he'd give her before taking a deep breath and approaching the microphone.

There was clapping, for whatever reason, and the quiet whispers of the reporters and the other people around her before the room fell silent.

"Good afternoon, everyone." She said in her cheerful trademark voice, "I want to thank you all for coming out and for all of your support over these past few months. It's been quite a journey."

"Beth!" One reporter shouted before she could continue, "is it true that you were-"

Maggie grabbed the microphone before she could even manage to blink, twisting the coil of it to direct it to her mouth. "Any questions are to be directed to either Mr. Porter, or myself after she is finished. Any more outbursts, and were _done_ here."

The man who Maggie had cut off visibly deflated, sitting back in his seat as Beth nervously pointed the microphone back to herself.

"As you all know, I was in a car accident a few months ago." She swallowed hard. "I was heading to stay with my father for a few days. As you all also know, my father suffers from Parkinson's disease, and whenever I can, I make arrangements to go and see him."

Camera lights flashed over and over again, making her blink and see dots cloud her vision. She felt uneasy again, almost as if her knees were about to go out from underneath her.

"I was on the highway 85 when I took an exit to stop at a gas station." She continued, her voice shaking right along with her hands that were fidgeting on top of the podium, "I lost control of the car during a storm that was passing, and I don't remember much after that,"

That part wasn't entirely true, but she was strongly advised to leave Daryl out of it all.

"I was found by a resident who had a flat tire on the bridge, and he saved my life that night. I'm forever greatful for him, and I'm not sure I'd be standing here talking to you today if not for him."

She knew she wasn't supposed to say that last part, but she didn't care. There was more truth to that statement than anyone would ever know.

"I want to apologize to the fans in North Carolina and Florida for the tour dates that have been cancelled, it will all be made up to you, I promise."

Beth inhaled one last time deeply, "thank you for all of your support, I hope to see you all soon."

Beth ignored the shouting of her name as she stepped back from the podium, allowing Maggie to step forward and answer all of the questions that she knew were coming. The ones that crawled so deep under her skin that she wasn't sure that she'd ever be able to force them back out.

_"Is it true that Beth was under the influence at the time of the accident?!"_

_"Will this postpone the release date of her album?!"_

_"Miss Greene!"_

_"Beth Greene!"_

She made her way back to where she had been before, back over and next to the rest of her management team, and waited for this nightmare to end.

She fought the tears welling in her eyes. There was no way these people were going to break her now, not after she'd come all this way. Not after she'd come close to dying in a car accident. There was no way in hell she'd let that happen. Not now.

"Thank you for your time." Maggie finished after what seemed like decades, snapping Beth out of her daze and dismissing the crowd in front of her, leading her back out of the door she came in through.

Maggie grabbed her shoulder gently, knowing that she had the intention of walking straight out of the building.

She turned around to face her sister; "I'm sorry, Bethy. You don't deserve any of this." Maggie said quietly, pulling her in for a hug that she returned desperately. She needed comfort in that moment. She honestly thought she was going to lose it.

She lifted her head from its spot on the hollow of Maggie's shoulder to where Daryl stood off in the background, speaking to her bodyguard Abe quietly. Beth pulled away from a reluctant Maggie, forcing a smile onto her face.

"I'm alright, Mags. I promise." She said. Maggie rubbed her hands down her arms affectionately for a moment before she nodded, slipping her sunglasses off of her head on over her eyes as she let go of her slowly, and headed for the exit.

She looked up to find Daryl walking towards her, hands shoved into his front pockets as he approached her in his usual awkward manner.

"So." She said sweetly, trying to regain her composure after being so stressed out, "what're your plans for the rest of the day?" She turned towards the exit door, Daryl following right on behind her.

"I dunno." He replied quietly, raising his thumb up to his mouth to gnaw on it like he always did, "I ain't got a damn clue what's around here, probably just head on back, let ya do what ya gotta do."

Beth frowned halting in one of the hallways, knowing that Daryl would stop as well to see what she was going to say.

"Y'know," she started quietly, "you don't have to stay in that hotel. I have a spare room, and I also have a couch."

Daryl fidgeted awkwardly where he stood in front of her in the small hallway. She knew he wasn't entirely comfortable with the question, that was just how he was. She'd come to realize that over the time she'd known him.

She had all but got on her hands and knees to beg him to come to Nashville with her to begin with, at least for the first week. And it took some seriously agonizing convincing, (along with her puppy dog eyes that not even her father could deny) to get him to agree.

She didn't want to be alone, she had told him. And granted, she had Maggie and she had the rest of her team that had become family over the years, but she knew she'd feel lost if she didn't have Daryl around. Mostly because lately, she always felt lost when Daryl wasn't around.

"Ya already paid for a hotel for me, Beth. I can't ask for more than that from ya." He replied, still not looking at her, but at his boot covered feet instead as they scuffed against the ground.

"I know you're not asking." Beth replied, reaching down for his hand, silently congratulating herself on doing so because his eyes finally shot up to meet hers, "I'm _offering_, Daryl, there's a difference."

He didn't seem to hear a word she said, because he didn't answer. Just stared at her with those eyes. Those eyes that were inherently maddening. Those icy blue eyes that were so similar to her own, but so different at the same time. Those eyes that said absolutely nothing, and yet everything all at once.

"At least come over for dinner? Let me cook for you or something?" She asked, turning her body back towards the exit and tugging him along with her.

She headed for the exit and motioned for him to lead the way out towards the car. She didn't wait for an answer, and for once, he didn't seem to mind either way.

* * *

Maggie was going to be pissed, and she knew it.

But she really didn't care.

She had been careless, knowing all to well that she was being stalked by paparazzi. She was a headlining story right now, and if she was being completely honest, she knew better than to bring someone up to her flat downtown, let alone a man. Let alone someone she was holding hands with.

The photos that were snapped of them were already on the internet, she supposed. She was sure she'd have to deal with a red faced mr. Porter and a furious Maggie within the next few days.

But unfortunately for them, she wasn't really worried about it at all.

After driving around downtown Nashville with Daryl in the passenger seat for a few hours, showing him the city, she'd finally pulled into the parking garage and led him upstairs. She promised Daryl dinner, and she intended on making sure she'd follow through with that.

And So, here they were. Daryl on a stool with his hands splayed on the countertop, and beth slicing up chicken and vegetables next to stove, facing his direction.

"You gotta be shittin' me." Daryl replied after she finished her story, smiling like an idiot at just how inadvertently adorable he really was.

She pursed her lips as she chopped up the garlic on her countertop, giggling like a fool as she noticed his mouth was hanging open.

"Cross my heart." She said coyly, laughing at her off hand and typical joke. She took her free hand and made a crossing gesture for emphasis across her chest.

"Pft." He scoffed at her, shaking his head.

"You mean to tell me that you had a beer with George Strait? George _fuckin_' Straight?

"Yes!" She exclaimed, flailing the knife around in the air, "Why is that so hard to believe?" He looked at her like she was insane, yet again. Sometimes she thought that he did it on purpose because he knew it'd make her laugh.

"Ain't that," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair, "Just crazy s'all. Weird to think about."

"How so?" She asked, dropping the finely chopped pieces into a mixing bowl.

"Got all his CDs back at home. Grew up on that shit." She smiled over at him, sitting on top of one of her bar stools at the island countertop a few feet away.

"I did too. Couldn't bring myself to ask for his autograph, though." She confessed with a shrug of her shoulders. "Felt weird enough as it was."

He shook his head again at her, and smiled. A tight lipped and barely existent smile, but still a smile nonetheless. She vowed to herself that one day she'd understand why he felt so afraid to let a grin spread wide across his face. Hell, she did it enough. When he was around, anyway.

She turned back towards her dining table and grabbed the remote to her stereo, clicking it on and lowering the volume because she knew she had it blasting the night before. She let the sound filter through the silence that fell between the two, knowing it wasn't something that made her feel awkward, but music was something that always was a part of her day. Especially while making dinner at home, no matter how rare it was that she did so.

"What's this?" He asked, gesturing his head upwards towards the stereo above him. She gawked at him for a moment, trying to determine wether he was screwing with her or not.

"Oh that?" She said smartly, gesturing to the black box above him with the knife that she held in her hand; "Well that there is what most folks call a speaker. You hook it up to the-"

"Smartass." He rolled his eyes.

"Just a mix I threw together, nothin' special." She said, smiling and shrugging her shoulders in reply.

She looked up every now and again as she prepared the food, watching him, analyzing him. Watched him as his eyes flitted across her apartment, occasionally catching his eye from time to time.

It was easier being with Daryl, she found. Easier than it'd ever been with anyone in her life. Sitting in a comfortable silence when she knew no words needed to be exchanged, smiling at how different he was in contrast to the bright colors that decorated the interior of her flat.

"That your brother?" Daryl asked her just as she finished washing her hands. "Shawn, right?"

Beth walked around the countertop to stand next to him, eyes catching the array of picture frames that were set up off to the side. The photo in question, the one that he had pointed out, was one of her favorites. She had pushed it in front of the rest of the pictures for that very reason.

It was a simple one, really. One that she was sure other families like hers had framed somewhere in their own homes. Beth was standing in the driveway just out of sight of the house where she had grown up. She wore a powder blue prom dress, hair done up neatly in a bun, and her arms draped loosely over Shawn's much larger figure. He had been similar to Daryl in that way; Much larger and taller than she was. But that wasn't saying much now that she thought about it, most people always were, anyway.

"Yeah, that's Shawn." She said quietly, picking up the photo frame to get a better look at it.

"Prom?"

"Yeah." She said, even quieter this time, taking one last look at the photo before placing it gently back in its place. "Junior year. He made damn sure he scared the hell out of Zach that day." She added, laughing slightly at the memory.

Zach had sauntered up onto the porch with his typical 'I'm the shit' attitude, and that likely was the first red flag in Shawn's mind. Ever since that day Shawn was more than vocal about his displeasure and blatant disapproval of the guy. He'd always told her, back when he was alive, that she could do better. That she deserved better.

_"Where the hell you think you're going?" Shawn growled out of the darkness of the house, and Beth cursed herself inwardly. She was sure that everyone in the house had fallen asleep hours ago. She'd told Zach to meet her at the end of the driveway around midnight to pick her up that Saturday, mostly due to the fact that Shawn was back from college and was sleeping in the spare room. She knew that if Shawn caught a wiff of his scent, the whole plan would crumble to pieces._

_"Out." She said quietly, not wanting to alert Maggie who was also home on break, or even worse, her father._

_"Like hell you are. What the hell's the matter with you?" Shawn said, grabbing her house keys out of her hand and placing them back on the hook._

_"Shawn, I get it. You don't like him." She said, knowing there was no point in denying what her intentions were when she walked out the door, "But I'm eighteen, I'm more than capable of making my own decisions. I'm not a child."_

_Shawn's eyes grew wide, and he scoffed loudly at her, shaking his head furiously; "I swear, Beth. Sometimes you're so god damn dense."_

_"_Dense_?"_

_"Yeah, _dense_." He said, the venom in his voice as strong as ever. "I cannot believe that you're still seeing that guy. After what he did to you? Did you hit your head on somethin'?"_

_Shawn's voice was growing louder and louder with each word, and she nervously flicked her eyes towards the staircase and back at him. She was ready for her sister or her dad to come barreling down that staircase any minute._

_"Shawn, he's really not that bad," Beth started, "maybe if you just gave him a chance you'd see that he-"_

_"I ain't interested in _anything_ to do with that prick. You shouldn't be either." Shawn said, running a hand through his short hair. "Christ, Beth. He cheated on you."_

_"You think I don't know that?" She spat back at him._

_"Sure as hell ain't acting like you do. Sneaking out this late at night to fuck around with that piece of shit. What if dad found out about this?"_

_"So what if he did?" She said, pushing past him to grab her keys back off of the hook. "I ain't a little girl anymore, Shawn."_

_"You deserve so much better than him, Beth. You know it. I know it. Hell, everyone in this damn town knows it."_

_"Maybe you're right." She replied softly, reaching for the door handle, "but you're gonna have to let me figure this out on my own."_

"Hey." Daryl said, shaking her away from the memory. "Ya alright?"

"What?" She said as she came out of her daze. When she glanced over at the sound of his voice and saw the concern in his eyes, she realized she probably had looked upset unintentionally .

"Oh yeah, I'm fine." She waved her hand up lightly. "Sorry, just spaced out there for a second."

She fiddled with her hands that were on top of the counter, trying to push the memories out of her head. Ever since the accident it seemed as though all the memories of the deaths of not only Shawn, but her mother too, were coming back more and more frequently.

_Get a grip, Beth._ She chastised herself.

A very warm and very strong hand stopped her fingers from fidgeting when they were placed on top of her own slowly and gently. She looked up to his eyes, only realizing just at that very moment just how close in proximity they were to each other. Her heart began to race beyond her control, and she suddenly forgot how to breathe.

He looked as though he was going to say something, and she could have sworn that he very well might have already and she just happened not to catch it, but that wasn't in the forefront of her mind as she watched his eyes as they slipped from their focus on her own eyes and down towards her lips.

And God help her, she wanted to close the distance between them more than anything in the world. But she was afraid. Afraid because of everything that had happened between her and any guy in the past. And that wasn't to say that Daryl was like any of them, because he most definitely was not. Not by a long shot.

Daryl was different and more special to her than anything in this world right now.

And that might very well be the reason why she ducked her head away and began to move back towards the kitchen. Back where her eyes and hands and mouth were occupied by something other than the need to touch him. The need to feel him. The need to _taste_ him.

Because the very last thing she wanted to do was to cross that invisible line that was drawn in the sand between them and scare him away. And she feared that would be exactly what would happen.

She didn't get far, though. Honestly, she'd barely made a step in that direction before he had reached down and grabbed her chin, directing her eyes and face back at his own. She watched as his face turned serious, concentrated. Almost as though he was searching for an answer from her without any words.

She seemed to know what he was silently asking. So she nodded slightly, her eyes turning into slits as Daryl kept the hold on her chin tightly between his fingers and placed his lips upon hers.

It was gentle, and sweet. Closed lipped and absolutely perfect. She felt her heart flutter as his hands moved from her chin up to cradle the side of her head, turning his own head slightly to slant his lips over hers. He was soft, apart from the delicious burn of the scrape of his beard stubble against the softness of her skin. Something she'd never experienced, and something she'd never known she'd been missing.

Her hands lifted from their place by her sides, finding a home on Daryl's chest just underneath the flaps of his ever present angel winged vest. Losing herself in the moment. Losing herself in him.

And just as quickly as it started, it was over. She felt him lean away slightly, placing his forehead on hers.

After a moment, she opened her eyes to find that icy hue of blue staring at her, cutting her open and staring straight through her irises and into her very soul. His breath hot as it flowed from his mouth and brushed against the small blonde hairs on her upper lip.

And she suddenly felt ridiculous for putting it off for so long. The more she stared back into Daryl's darkened eyes, the more she realized how stupid she had been to do so. He wanted her. He wanted her probably just as much as she did him.

And in that moment she felt safe. Safe with her pelvic bone pressed against the wood of the stool between his legs, and wrapped up in his tight embrace. She felt happy. Happy that she had finally just stopped letting her mind go into overdrive and keep her at a distance. And most importantly, for the first time in a very long time, she felt like she was home.


	11. Two Headlights

**I am really not proud of this chapter, and it took some serious convincing (light threats if were being honest) from my favorite bethylers to get me to actually post this. I might go back and re edit this when I'm feeling better but right now I have a bad cold and I just. Yeah. I'm rambling. Ignore me lol.**

**WARNING: There is some racial commentary in this chapter. Courtesy of my second favorite Dixon, of course.**

**Typical merle. Love that dude though. RIP :(**

**This chapter was completed with the help of one of my very good friends. Her name is Moscato. And she tastes very nice. Also, I may or may not be drunk right now.**

**You'll never know.**

**A big huge giant thank you goes out to Christy/Hearts1989 for beta-ing this chapter for me, cause otherwise i don't know how the hell I would have completed this chapter, let alone corrected all of my heinous grammar mistakes. She is an angel.**

**Song Credit: Treacherous - Taylor Swift**

**Reviews and thangs make me happy. Leave me some stuff and it'll make me happy. Ya know. Stuff and thaaaaangs. Stay in the damn house, Carl. Jeeze.**

**Alright, anyway.**

**Less than 30 days till the season premiere I'm so exited I can't even handle it shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit**

**Love you guys, talk to ya soon!**

**-Stephanie**

* * *

_How to Save a Life_

_Chapter Eleven - "Two Headlights"_

* * *

_"Pull the fuck over." Daryl growled from the passenger seat, grinding his teeth together. The anger and rage was boiling harshly in his veins._

_Merle's antics might as well have been a daily god damn routine by that point for him, and usually, Daryl just kept his mouth sealed shut and went right along with whatever the hell it was. But this time, he'd crossed the fucking line._

_"Calm down, little brother!" Merle replied back with a full on laugh laced throughout his words. "Actin' like a little pussy boy over nothin'._

_"Nothin'?" Daryl shook his head, grabbing his wallet off of the beaten up dashboard, shoving it in his pocket angrily; "The fuck, Merle. Do ya even got a fuckin' clue what ya done?"_

_Merle shrugged his shoulders, readjusting his grip on the steering wheel; "Fuckin' nigger shoulda thought twice before he stole from a Dixon." He said nonchalantly. Like he was talking about the weather._

_Daryl had stood at the end of the alleyway, standing guard like always when Merle had dragged some young kid by the collar past him and down into the darkness. He'd known what had happened, at least according to Merle, anyway. Young kid just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, if you asked him. One of the guys he was hanging around allegedly 'stole his shit'. And by shit, he meant drugs._

_Poor kid was merely guilty by association more than anything else._

_And Daryl had expected what happened, Merle beating the shit out of the poor kid who couldn't defend himself worth a good god damn. Merle kicked him in the stomach as he curled around himself in a desperate attempt to shield his body from the blows. However, Daryl hadn't expected Merle to pull out a gun, let alone shoot the poor fucking guy in the side of his head._

_"I said pull over, Merle. I'll jump out of this damn thing if ya don't." Daryl said, unbuckling the poor excuse for a seat belt and tossing it behind him blindly. "Ya got five seconds. I ain't fuckin' around."_

_Merle swerved the car to the side of the desolate road, becoming hostile in the blink of an eye and slamming so hard on the brakes that Daryl had just managed to brace his hands on the dash to prevent himself from being launched forward and smashing his head onto it. Due to the fact that Daryl had been so startled and caught off guard by his immediate and unforeseen reaction, he barely noticed that Merle had jumped out of the truck himself, only realizing he had done so when his own door was yanked open and he was being pulled out of the vehicle by the collar of his shirt._

_"Ya listen, here. And ya listen real good, little brother." Merle growled in a low tone with a finger pointed directly at his face. He had him pinned to the side of the truck with his forearm in the blink of an eye, resting it halfway on his breastbone and halfway on his neck. Daryl swallowed hard, as best as he could as the pressure on his throat increased steadily with every word he said._

_"First," he said, emphasizing the word with a rough shove that made Daryl grunt in pain at the force against him, "You's gonna shut your mouth, cause I'm tired of ya bitchin' at me like the little girl ya really are."_

_Merle glared at him with darkened eyes that were squinting at him so hard he was surprised he could even see. Daryl never would admit it to anyone, but never pushed Merle, at least not often. He knew his temper and he knew what he was capable of. But he didn't need to admit it to merle anyways, because Merle knew just how intimidating he was. He also knew damn well that it didn't take much to get Daryl backed into a corner far enough so that he'd listen and do whatever he said._

_What Merle didn't know, though, unfortunately for him, was that the particular stunt he had pulled earlier that night had been the proverbial nail in the coffin of him aimlessly being Merle's wingman and shadow. He'd about had it with this bullshit. And he wasn't about to let himself get thrown in prison for life just because of Merle and his erratic behavior._

_Daryl raised his right arm and shoved Merle away from his hold on his upper body. He faltered a little bit, whether that was because Merle was obliterated or it was because of the force of his movement, he wasn't sure. Merle glowered at his little brother, teeth clenching together hard as he watched his jaw twitch back and forth._

_"You keep your fuckin' hands off'a me." Daryl seethed, walking to the back of the truck to put some space between himself and his brother._

_Daryl was seeing red. Seeing nothing but the anger that was coursing through his body because he was so fed up with this kind of bullshit. Twenty three years on this earth with Merle was enough to make this a daily routine._

_Merle rounded the side of the truck in an attempt to get Daryl's attention. And he said something, but truthfully, he was done listening. He hadn't even heard a word he had said._

_"Am I the only one in this family that's got half a god damn brain?" He said, throwing his hands in the air at his brother. "I swear Merle. I'm fuckin' done cleanin' up after your dumb ass."_

_"C'mon, Daryl. You's gettin' all worked up over-"_

_"Don't c'mon Daryl' me!" He snapped, feeling his face heat up as it flared with anger. "We ain't kids no more, Merle. This ain't about me coverin' for you with the old man. This is some serious shit." He shoved Merle backwards again._

_"What you gonna do then? Huh? Where ya gonna run off to?" Merle asked, stepping back into Daryl's space. Daryl looked down and fell silent at his words. Merle cackled again. "That's what I thought. Y'ain't got nowhere else to go, Daryl. We's all each other's ever had."_

_"You never were there for me, Merle. Stop actin' like you were and like you actually ever gave a shit."_

_"Ain't true, little brother. And ya know it."_

_"Don't mean you can still do stupid shit like that and expect me to pick up the pieces, Merle. Have you lost your god damn mind?"_

_"I ain't lost shit, Daryl!" Merle exclaimed, slamming his hand on the tailgate next to Daryl. "Don't get me started, little brother. Y'aint got a damn clue what I've done for you. You don't know how bad shit was before your ass even was born."_

_Daryl shook his head. "Merle." He stated, "You killed that kid, for no fuckin' reason! He didn't even have anything to do it!" He shouted. "That ain't got shit to do with me, or the old man. That shit was you."_

_Daryl walked to the door of the truck, yanking it open with force; "I ain't going to Riverdale or wherever the fuck you're thinkin' about going. First exit, you're dropping me off."_

_Merle climbed into the driver's side just as Daryl shut the door and buckled himself in, shaking his head and looking out the window._

_"I'm sayin' this, and I'm only sayin' it once." Merle said quietly, not breaking his gaze from the darkness outside. "Ain't no one gonna care about you like I have 'cept me, little brother."_

* * *

Daryl awoke to a knock at his hotel room door and it was loud; Unnecessarily loud for Daryl's liking.

He rolled over on the bed, his eyes locking in on the digital alarm clock beside him. It was almost 10 AM - on the day he was supposed to meet up with Beth at her album release party.

He wasn't sure why he had agreed to do it exactly; and honestly he felt pretty on edge about the whole thing. From what he understood, it was going to be a huge room full of people he didn't know. Important people, for that matter. People that were likely going to pass judgment on him as usual, and that just started to irritate him immediately.

There was another impatient knock on his hotel room door, louder this time, he noticed. Daryl forced himself out of bed with a frustrated groan, chucking the blankets off of his body and swinging his legs off of the side, ready to growl at what he assumed was housekeeping at the door. However, when he opened the heavy door quickly, he was met instead with an eager looking Glenn Rhee with a grin, stopping him in his tracks.

"Hey man." He said, pushing the door to the hotel room open and letting himself in, ducking under Daryl's arm in the process. Daryl watched him do so, rolling his eyes and rubbing a hand over his face, shutting the door behind him.

Glenn placed a bag on the table, then pulled open the tall white curtains, letting the afternoon sun brighten up the room. Daryl shielded his eyes.

"The hell ya doin' here?" He grumbled quietly, picking up the corner of the blanket that had fallen onto the floor and tossing it up onto the bed. He pointed at the bag; "and what's that?"

"Maggie sent me." He said, pulling what looked to be clothes out of the small white shopping bag. "She said, and I quote, _'If Daryl shows up tonight in a T-shirt I will strangle him, then I will strangle you._'" He mocked Maggie's demanding tone. Daryl snorted.

"I ain't wearin' no damn suit." Daryl grumbled, opening the door to the balcony a pulling a cigarette out of his pocket, "and I sure as hell ain't wearin' no tie, neither."

Glenn followed him outside to the patio just as Daryl lit up the end of his Marlboro, sucking the smoke through the filter. "I figured as much."

"When's this thing start, anyway?" He asked.

Glenn sucked in a breath, running a hand through his raven colored hair; "Around seven." He said, "But we're all supposed to be there by five at the latest."

Daryl grunted, leaning over the balcony railing on his elbow, snubbing out the end of his cigarette on it and flicking it out into the wind.

"Don't worry so much." Glenn said, clasping a hand onto his shoulder. Daryl only then realized just how obvious he was being about his discomfort about the whole thing. "It's not gonna be as bad as you think it will be."

"Just ain't my kinda people." Daryl replied quietly, staring off into the busy downtown area below. If he were being honest with himself, going to this event wasn't much of stretch from all of the other things and events he'd been doing and going to in Beth's favor. Problem was, Daryl found himself saying yes to absolutely everything that Beth wanted. He was powerless when it came to her.

"C'mon." Glenn said, breaking the silence that had formed between them and opened the door to the inside of the hotel room. "Get dressed, we gotta get goin'"

"Thought you said we ain't gotta be there "til five?"

Glenn smiled deviously, and Daryl instantly felt apprehensive.

"It's gonna take Beth hours to get ready. Maggie even longer." Glenn said, rolling his eyes when he said his wife's name. "I figure if we have to wait, we might as well go grab a drink to pass the time."

Daryl felt himself relax at his words. He liked the sound of that.

* * *

By the time 4:30 in the afternoon had rolled around, Daryl had no choice but to get up off of the barstool and follow Glenn to the car outside.

He had felt a little less apprehensive at the bar downstairs; but that feeling quickly dissipated as soon as the double doors to the event hall were opened by security a few hours later.

Inside was nothing short of a madhouse. The second the doors were even a fraction of the way open, the loud noises hit Daryl's ears instantly.

There was too much for Daryl to take jn all at once. The noise of people shouting and talking and yelling orders back and forth, the noise of equipment being moved in and set up. It was a lot to process, and Daryl knew he probably looked like a deer caught in headlights. Probably because he felt like a deer in headlights.

"Dixon!" A hand with freshly painted fingernails snapped in front of his eyes, and he jerked his head towards the direction of the woman whom it belonged to. "You okay over there?"

Maggie was standing in front of him, and he was struggling to figure out just how long she'd been standing there. She had an amused look on her face and Daryl crinkled his nose at her, knowing she was laughing at him spacing out as usual.

He was actually alright with it, considering the last interaction he'd had with Maggie the day before was less than pleasant. She was seethingly angry at not only Beth, but Daryl himself for the photos that had been all over the internet in a matter of hours. Photos of Beth tugging Daryl up the stairs of her apartment lobby by his hand. Photos that Maggie had described as 'careless and irresponsible'. But Daryl didn't really care all that much. That night in her apartment, just the two of them being together, it was more than worth listening to Maggie bitch for an hour and a half.

He nodded, shaking his head to try and collect himself. He wasn't sure if it was the Budweiser or the chaos around him making everything difficult to process. But it was probably a combination of the both of them.

"M'fine," Daryl barked out over the noise of all the commotion, looking around the large room; "Beth here yet?"

"In the back," Maggie replied, signing off on some form that was placed in front of her face by some company representative. "Want me to bring you to her?"

"Nah," he replied with a wave of his hand. "I'll find 'er."

Daryl turned on his heels to head towards the double doors leading to the back, only to be stopped by Maggie's voice again.

"Daryl!" She called, and he turned around to face her with a raised eyebrow. She reached down into her bag that was off of her shoulder and tossed him a laminated object attached to a lanyard.

"You're gonna need that." She said as he unraveled the lanyard from the laminated piece, a photo of Beth with her Epiphone was adorning the front, with the words 'Full security clearance - Dixon' on the front of it.

He nodded to Maggie and Glenn , taking off in the direction of the backstage area. He weaved back and forth through the staff and the guests and the venue workers until he was able to spot Abe, Beth's security guard.

"Daryl." Abe greeted with a nod to which he returned, eyeing the lanyard strung around Daryl's neck briefly. He reached down and swung open the double doors to the backstage area, and Daryl set off towards Beth's room at the end of the hallway.

He stopped in his tracks outside it, though. Mostly because lately it took a lot of mental preparation in order to make sure he didn't feel like a complete idiot every time he talked to her.

It wasn't always this way, it had only recently became this way after he had kissed her a few nights ago.

He hadn't planned on doing it, and honestly, he was surprised that he had done it in the first place. And besides that, he was even more surprised at how she had responded to it, kissing him with fervor and kissing him like her life had depended on it.

He often caught himself thinking about things he had no business thinking about, things like what noises she would make if he took her small pink lower lip between his teeth and pulled gently. Things like how soft her thighs would feel if he could run his fingers down the back of them and lift her up around his waist. Things that were not likely to happen, not in this life anyway.

He found it difficult now to think about anything other than the blonde, but more than anything else, he found it difficult to push the clouded thoughts out of his head. It pissed him off sometimes how much control she had over him, even though she didn't know that she did. He couldn't seem to think straight when she was within ten feet of his breathing space.

In the midst of him contemplating what he was going to say to her, and trying to push the thoughts of what he wanted to do to her out of his head, the door swung wide open and Beth stood in all her glory, make up done to perfection and her long hair curled and flowing around her shoulders.

"Hey!" She chirped, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him into the room. "I was just gonna go look for you."

Daryl smiled through his startled state, not fully knowing how on earth to form words because he was completely taken back by how beautiful she looked. She was wearing a dress with an off red skirt piece that touched her knees, a brown corset piece that hugged her curves perfectly matching her standard brown cowboy boots.

"Beth." He said quietly, reaching to grab her hand. "You look.."

"Oh my." Beth said with a giggle, "Daryl Dixon, are you blushing?" She let go of his hand to wrap her arms around his neck, stepping up on her tip toes to press her lips to his own. Snaking her tongue ever so gently past his teeth, almost innocently, and he groaned.

"I missed you." She said, pulling back and smoothing her hands over his silk dress shirt.

"It's been three days." Daryl said with a smirk on his face, reaching up and twisting one of her golden pieces of hair between his fingers. He didn't know what exactly they were to each other, but he knew that she held a special place in his heart. God only knew how he had managed to get so god damn lucky.

"I know." She said, picking up the laminated tag on the end of his lanyard and toying with it, leaning her body against his, forcing him against the wall. It was such an innocent thing from her perspective, not really knowing what she was doing, but more importantly, what it was doing to him.

"It's almost time." She said, "You gonna watch from the table, or are you gonna stay with Maggie and Glenn by the curtain?"

He knew she was talking about her performance, a mandatory thing of sorts when it came to these kinds of events, he had come to find out.

"I'll be off to the side with 'em." He said wrapping an arm over her shoulder and behind her back. "Unless you want me in the crowd?"

She leaned in, brushing her lips against the shell of his ear; "the closer the better."

* * *

Beth had been playing songs that were on her new album for the past 30 minutes for the gathering of what looked like at least two hundred people. And Daryl simply stood beside the long velvet curtain next to her family in awe.

He heard about it before, how when someone means a lot to you it ends up seeming like absolutely everything they do or say is perfect, but he never knew that he'd feel that way about anyone. Much less a girl he'd saved a few months back.

"She's great, isn't she?" Maggie had whispered during a quieter ballad in Daryl's direction. He didn't take his eyes off of her, but merely nodded in agreement. Great was treading lightly. The girl had the voice of an angel as far as he was concerned.

"I want to thank y'all for coming out tonight." Beth said towards the end of her set, and Daryl didn't miss the look she sent in his direction, a smile on her lips that he simply knew was only for him. That earned a nudge in the ribs from Glenn to which he rolled his eyes, but never once wavered from his focus on the girl on the brightly lit stage.

"I've got one more song for you tonight, one I wrote pretty recently." She said, adjusting the clip on the top of the guitar. "I hope y'all like it."

Daryl smiled at the words, and the melodic flowing of her voice, not realizing at that moment just why she was singing what she was singing, and why she was sending glances in his direction until the song picked up for the bridge. When her head turned to face him, and she sang the words directly to him. And he felt frozen.

_Two headlights shine through the sleepless night_

_And I will get you, and get you alone_

_Your name has echoed through my mind_

_And I just think you should, think you should know_

_That nothing safe is worth the drive and I would_

_Follow you, follow you home..._

_I'll follow you, follow you home..._

The rest of the performance was a giant blur to Daryl at least. He fought through the crowd after she exited the stage a little while later to find her, finally reaching her after what seemed like decades.

"Hey." She said softly, turning her head upwards to look at him affectionately.

"Hey yourself." He said back, not recognizing his own voice.

"You havin' a good time?" She asked innocently, running her hand up and down the shirt he wore, feeling the goose bumps break out from her touch even underneath the expensive shirt.

"That was some song." He said, ignoring her question completely. She nodded, throwing back the last sip of her alcohol from her glass, slipping her fingers through the belt loops of his dress pants and dragging him closer to her.

He raised his eyebrows at her boldness, knowing it was probably from the wine but he found that yet again, he didn't really mind.

She smiled up at him, batting her eyelashes innocently before she leaned in close to his ear, the same way she had in the dressing room.

"You wanna get outta here?"


	12. Whiskey & Candles

_How to Save a Life _

_Chapter Twelve - "Whiskey &amp; Candles__"_

* * *

Daryl thanked whatever God was up there as Beth somehow managed to file herself into the passenger seat of his truck completely unnoticed. He also thanked whatever unworldly power that he'd managed to make it up to her flat unnoticed himself.

"Let's play a game." She said, pulling her feet up from the floor and tucking them underneath herself on the couch.

"What kinda game?" He replied, eyeing the whiskey in the bottom of the glass Beth had poured for him when they had finally made it back to her place.

"A drinking game." She said, picking her glass up off of the table and putting the rim between her lips, smiling around the glass deviously.

"Alright." He agreed reluctantly, shifting himself slightly to face her, resting the glass on his knee. "Go on, what're we playin'?"

She perked up, straightening her back and turning her body completely to face him as well, moving her legs again to cross them Indian style.

"Okay, so first, I say something I've never done. And if you have done it you drink, and if you haven't, I drink." He stared at her waiting for her to elaborate, because he thought It sounded a little ridiculous.

"Then we switch." She added.

"Don't sound like much of a game." He grumbled honestly, taking a sip of the whiskey.

"C'mon, it'll be fun." She pleaded, her bright blue eyes going wide, seeming to be brighter in that moment even though the only thing lighting the room were the few small candles over on the coffee table. "I promise."

"Alright, fine." He said, reaching for the tall glass bottle and filling Beth's cup up before filling up his own.

"Okay, I'll start." She said, twirling the small glass in her hands. "I've never.. Shot a crossbow." She grinned.

Daryl shook his head at her and took a sip of the drink, recalling a conversation from a few nights back where he had told her a story about getting lost in the woods with Merle when he was younger. How he'd learned to load and shoot a crossbow on his own after watching his brother do it for as long as he could remember.

"I ain't never been out of the south." He admitted, knowing he'd get her with that one just based off of the knowledge of her touring. She rolled her eyes, raising the glass to her lips.

"I've never been huntin'"

"Can't use the same one twice, Greene."

"It's not the same!" she squealed, swatting his leg playfully.

"It sure is." He grumbled in protest.

"Oh, come on. Don't be such a baby." She said, lifting one hand off of her glass and running it over the fabric of his pants.

She had no idea what she did to him, he figured. Mostly because simple things like this - her running her hand gently over the leg of his pants - made his blood run south almost instantly. Made his thoughts go hazy and difficult to keep track of.

He didn't respond because he had became ridged at her movement, like he knew one wrong move would send her halfway across the room in the blink of an eye. And so he stood still, watching her eyes as they slowly flicked up to meet his.

It was funny, he supposed, how alcohol thrumming through his veins actually made him more careful where Beth was concerned. Gone was the man who'd taken initiative by grabbing ahold of Beth's chin next to the island in the kitchen; replaced with the boy he really was. The boy who was more terrified of this small piece of a girl than of anything he'd ever feared in his life. Including his old man, and that in of itself was something that he couldn't explain for the life of him.

He watched her as she moved; leaning into him with that effortless grace that only she could posses, grabbing the glass that was now almost empty from his hands along with her own, placing it over on the coffee table. Looking at him with those honest eyes that could all but rip him open at the seams.

"Beth." He whispered quietly, the word falling silent to his own ears, so quiet that he wasn't even sure he'd said it. She returned it with a quiet "Daryl." And damn if that didn't make him begin to strain uncomfortably in his pants.

She toyed with the flap of his collar, occasionally running her fingernails across the barely there stubble on his neck, his skin puckering underneath her feathery touch.

"You know, sometimes I think I really did die by that bridge."

He searched her face for an explanation to her words, but he came up empty. He found himself amused, the alcohol running through her own veins making her sound giddy, and making her words sound even more honest.

"That so?" He said, almost hearing the smirk on his face in his own voice. She hummed in response, a grin curling across her white teeth. She was staring at his skin somewhere between where his shirt was opened at the top and his right ear. Smiling lazily at his skin.

"It's just cause sometimes I can't believe I got so lucky. Having you here." She said, moving the hand that had been toying with the collar of his shirt, reaching to cup the side of his face. Just as she had done in the hospital.

He knew what she meant, mostly because he felt the exact same way. That the night of the accident, Daryl Dixon, known throughout the town for being nothing short of an asshole and a waste of space, had died on that side of the road. Because there was absolutely no way in hell that it made sense any other way. He'd done absolutely nothing in his life to deserve someone so pure and innocent and angelic. It just wasn't fathomable.

But for Beth to think that way? That didn't make much sense to him either. He didn't have much to offer her, and hell, he didn't have much of anything at all. She deserved someone who'd give her the world, and that was something he just wasn't capable of.

"I don't think I ever thanked you, you know." She said, pulling her knees closer to him and pressing all of her weight against him. "For being there. For saving my life. In more ways than one."

"You ain't gotta thank me for that." He said, his outstretched hand that lied over the back of the couch came up to move a stray hair out of her eyes.

"But I do."

"You don't." He insisted, grabbing her chin to force her to look at him, much like he had done a few nights ago. "You don't have to thank me for that, if anything I should be thanking you, Beth."

"What for?" She laughed, adjusting her body again, seeming as though she wanted to be even closer. "For mixing you up in this? For making you come up here? For all of the stuff I ask-"

"For giving me a chance." He said, where the boldness of his words were coming from, he wasn't all that sure. "You are givin' me a chance, aren't ya?" He searched her face as well as her eyes for an answer.

"Daryl." She said, pressing her forehead to his, "Don't you know by now? I'm giving you more than a chance."

And damn if Daryl didn't just take that as a green light, lifting his hand from its spot gripping the arm of the leather clad couch and trading it for a new spot on the softness of the back of Beth's neck, dragging her face to his, running his thumb up and down over the ridges on the top of her spine. She complied with ease, bracing one arm on the back of the couch behind him as his other floated from the side of her face to grip her hip. Touching the skin that was bared between her tank top and thin grey sweat pants.

The force of his lips grew hungrier, pushing her back slightly as he fought with his brain to pull in the reins to no avail. Suddenly, his senses were overwhelmed with need. The need to touch every inch of her, the need to drag his teeth across the pale surface of her throat.

She seemed just as eager, taking her body being pushed back as an opportunity to swing her leg over him, straddling him and pinning him even closer to her body. Feeling the heat of her close to the part of his body that ached something awful for her. She slanted her lips over his, a soft and high pitched moan escaping her lips just as he reared back far enough to take her lower lip between his greedy and impatient teeth. The sound was enough to snap him in half, break him at the core of his very being.

He grabbed her hips, lifting her lithe body effortlessly off of him and laying her down on the couch as he crawled back up to reach her mouth, her breathing matching his own, heavy, hot, and desperate. Her hands that had instantly wrapped themselves around the muscles of his arms slipped from there to the buttons on his shirt, undoing the first couple of them before her eyes met his.

He had paused when she reached for the pearl clasps, not knowing if he should pull back completely, or let her do whatever the hell she wanted to do. Because, let's face it, he'd let her do whatever the hell she wanted ten times over.

It was the look in her eyes, though. The look that said so many things and yet nothing at the same damn time. Her pupils impossibly blown, completely black even in the candlelight shadowing throughout her living room. She wanted him, That much he knew. He'd seen the look in the eyes of women throughout the years; The raw want and hunger in their own blown irises. But Beth's were different.

Beth was different.

That was beginning to become a mantra in the back of his mind day in and day out.

She didn't say anything, didn't even break her gaze as she moved her fingers downwards one by one, pulling the buttons apart of the expensive shirt until it was nothing more than a shield for his marred back. Jumping at the feel of her hands as they ran from the top of his chest all the way down to his stomach, resting her fingertips just inside of the waistband of his pants.

He dropped his forehead to hers for only a moment, retreating to the softness of her neck, biting gently and licking his way all the way from her neck and back up to her jaw. Taking his time as he repeated the motion a few times, occasionally stopping at the hollow behind her ear, flicking his tongue out to taste her there as she whimpered and arched against him.

Shifting slightly, he looked up to see her watching him, asking for permission without words as he toyed with the neckline of her white cotton top, watching in awe as her chest heaved upwards and downwards over and over again beneath his hand. He slowly grabbed the fabric between two fingers at the stitching, pulling it down to expose her to him, dropping his mouth down to taste her there.

The sound of the traffic below her flat hummed quietly through the room, mixing with the sounds that fell quietly from Beth's mouth and the sounds of Daryl's own as his teeth bared down gently on the raised pink area of her nipple, teasing her as she arched over and over again into him.

It seemed as though up until that moment, the whole thing wasn't real. Beth wasn't real, this whole scenario where he'd found someone so loving to take him in and care about him like nobody ever had before wasn't real either. Until he'd seen that look in her eyes. That's when all the pieces fell together.

She groaned audibly as he reached for the hem of her shirt. Peeling it upwards as he tracked his way across her stomach, dipping his tounge out to taste just underneath her rib cage, the area where her stomach dipped inwards, the hollow of her hip, everywhere. Taking his time. Knowing by the sounds coming from her that she was going insane with need. Insane with want. Much like he was himself.

He could feel her fingers flutter nervously at the button to his pants and as he fastened his mouth firmly over her nipple, drawing it all the way into his mouth, firmly suckling, she stilled her hands completely, a loud moan slipping through her lips unbidden.

Daryl knew Beth had to be able to feel his erection against her thigh that was resting firmly between his legs. The more she moaned, the more he felt his throbbing cock pulsed with need, but he wanted to take his time. He wanted this to be good for her. He owed her at least that much. She deserved that much.

As he continued to push her shirt up over her breasts, Beth continued to fumble with his button finally getting it to open, parting the fabric with her fingers, and sliding the zipper down, her fingers grazing over his cock that was now straining almost painfully through the fabric of his pants.

Beth sat up suddenly, looking at him through half closed lids and pulled her shirt over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She wasted no time in then helping him free himself of his finely pressed dress pants.

Letting his pants fall to the floor, he paused momentarily as he looked back at her. Seeing her perfect small round breasts exposed to him her skin smooth as alabaster, but slightly flushed with passion, filled him with a deep-seated ache at the same time it made his jaw drop in awe at just how fucking perfect she was. He was awestruck momentarily, watching her as her hand trailed up and down between the valley of her breasts gently, moving back and forth on her own accord in what he could only assume was anticipation.

When he finally snapped out of his trance, he returned back to his previous position. Daryl was helpless to resist running his hands down over each side of her rib cage and she arched her back under his touch, skimming his fingers lower as he reached the waist of her sweat pants. He never thought he would be so glad to see a girl wearing something as sexless as those thin gray pants she donned herself in.

Daryl curled his fingers over the fabric and gave them a gentle tug, smirking when Beth lifted her hips off the bed to help him. However the smirk was promptly wiped off his face at the realization that she was not wearing any underwear. He groaned in anticipation as he took in her shaved pussy, already glistening with want.

He didn't overthink it just looked at her once, gaining silent permission from her eyes that begged him to touch, taste, feel, do something to ease the ache she was feeling.

"Daryl."

God, if that wasn't enough to do him in. He loved how his name tumbled past her lips, soft, breathy and it was all the answer he needed as he dipped his head down, dipping his tongue in at her navel, feeling her buck her hips upward. Her soft gasps and sighs were prodding forward. He worked his way down her body, spreading open mouth kisses over evvery possible inch and Beth's knees were still pressed tightly together as he reached the apex of her thighs. He traced his finger around the top of her wet folds and smiled as her legs dropped open allowing him immediate access to the part of her he most desired to taste

She moaned as she did so and he could not resist looking up at her. She was watching him with an expression Daryl couldn't quite read but it was obvious that she wanted him. He wanted her too. Oh Christ, how he wanted her. But he wanted to taste her first and he knew he couldn't do this unless he knew she was deriving pleasure from it. He figured the only way he could assure that was to make certain she came beforehand, preferably on his tongue.

Daryl put one hand under each thigh, pressing her legs towards her and exposing her perfectly to his mouth. Her scent was enough to drive him wild but as he dipped his head down and flicked his tongue over her wet folds, her taste was enough to make him come in his pants.

He darted his tongue out and flicked it over the hard bundle of nerves at the top of her pussy, feeling her buck her hips. He reached up and splayed his palm over her flat abdomen, effectively holding her in place. He allowed his tongue to trace a lazy line up and down her slit and then without warning shoved his tongue all the way into her wet hot center, moaning as her taste flooded his mouth. He pulled his tongue back up and flicked his tongue over her clit once, twice and then in rapid succession, feeling her thighs start to tremble.

Using his free hand he traced her slit and then inserted one finger inside her pussy, moaning at how impossibly tight she was. he added another finger, pulsing them in and out of her as he continued his oral assault on her clit. He felt it the moment her moaning changed pitch. she screamed his name and Daryl looked up at her, never taking his tongue off of her and he knew that he had never seen anything more magnificent than watching pretty Beth Greene coming apart at the seams. The one and only Beth Greene coming apart because of him.

He stood up from the couch, shedding his boxers watching with slight amusement as her eyes slightly widened at his size. She sat up then.

"Sit down." It was a command he was helpless to obey and he sat bare-assed on the couch and watched as she straddled him.

He held his breath as she reached between them and grasped his cock in her hand, flicking her wrist as she slid her palm down over his rock hard length a couple of times before lining him up with her hot entrance.

She never broke eye contact with him as she slowly slid herself down over him, only closing her eyes and echoing his own groan as he bottomed out inside of her.

As she raised herself back off him all but pulling off of him completely, she leaned in and pressed her lips to hers, flitting her tongue inside his open waiting mouth at the same time she impaled herself on his cock again. He swallowed her moan and she started a punishing rhythm for their lovemaking and then slowed it all at once, contininuing to kiss him, slowly. He reached down and somehow their hands found one anothers almost of their own accord. She laced theiir fingers together and she contined to move herself over him as they held hands. It was intimate, it was sensual, it was perfect.

Suddenly it was not enough and too much for the both of them at the same time and he began to thrust his hips upward at the same time she started moving faster, pumping her body up and down over his over and over again until he felt it hit him, likely at the same time it hit her.

He had reached that point of no return and he felt his balls draw up at the same time the fire started in his belly, the flames licking along his spine and spiraling outward, downward until every muscle in his body contracted in such a dizzying rhythm he cried out her name, "Beth" as he came deep inside her.

Beth pressed her forehead into his collarbone, shaking and breathing harshly as she tried to come down from her high, as Daryl did the same himself, running his hand up and down the curve of her spine until she raised her head up to press her forehead now to his own.

"Alright?" She asked quietly, placing her hands on either sides of his face, rubbing the pads of her thumbs over his cheekbones as she stared into his eyes.

He nodded. "Alright."

* * *

When Daryl awoke on the couch a few hours later, he was aware first of the fact that Beth was no longer curled into his side. The loss of heat from her body's absence was what Daryl had assumed woke him up to begin with.

He ran a hand over his face, trying to wipe the bleary ness out of his eyes as he sat up, the blanket he had thrown across them being the only thing covering the lower half of his body. His eyes drifted over to the TV stand, a small green light indicating it was one in the morning was shining at him from the idling cable receiver.

His initial thought was that Beth had gotten up and left him, just like any other woman had in his past. Of course, that thought removed itself fairly quickly mostly because he was in her house. The absurdity of the thought made Daryl shake his head at himself.

Movement of the white linen shades that towered over the tall glass windows to her balcony caught Daryl's eye; Moving back and forth gently as the breeze from the outside filtered through and jostled them slightly. When he craned his head, he was able to make out her figure through the obscurity of the fabric, and even clearer when they would move out of the way briefly. There she was, sitting on her outside patio chair with her guitar on her lap, staring upwards towards the moon in the sky as she strummed quietly. He smiled, noting instantly the dress shirt he had worn that had been removed from his body was now over her own arms and shoulders, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows.

He stood quietly, making sure that he wouldn't disturb her, keeping the blanket that was around him secured around his waist as he made his way over to the balcony door.

Her soft voice filtered through the door to where he stood, just out of her eye sight. He made sure of this, because he wanted to enjoy this, to watch her unabbidenly.

Her hair was tossed over her other shoulder, and occasionally she would hum quietly, chewing on the end of her pen and scribbling every so often on a pad of paper to the side of her.

_"Candles are burned down, turned into morning light._

_The time to go has come and gone_

_Why can't I... Why, can't I say goodnight."_

Daryl turned his head towards back to where they had been, seeing the candles that had been burning had in fact burnt down to nothing, leaving darkness to be the only thing to fill the room besides the moonlight from the outside.

_"The whole world is sleeping_

_And still I can't give in_

_It's a love story_

_I never want to end_

_The time to go has come and gone_

_Why can't I.. Why can't I say goodnight."_

And those words would be the nail in the coffin, hitting him in the chest like a ton of bricks and almost knocking his knees out from underneath him. The words he'd been waiting to set something off inside of him that he'd tried like fucking hell to fight off. The words that spooked him and panicked him to his very core and set into motion the very action that he'd promised and swore to her time and time again he'd never do. That he'd never do to her. No matter what.

_Leave_.

It was bound to happen, and he knew it from the start. Didn't change the fact that he'd stuck around for selfish reasons. Selfish reasons like having her around because that made it easier to breathe. Made him feel alive. Made him want to be a better person than he knew he really was deep down inside of him.

Fact of the matter was; He was a Dixon. A Dixon through and through all the way into the marrow of his bones. And there was not a god damn thing that he could say or do to change that.

_"I'm using up all my strength_

_I can't tear myself away_

_It only gets harder as night turns to day.."_

In a quiet haste, daryl found the dress pants from the floor, pulling them on and not bothering with the struggle of the belt. Not caring that he was about to walk down out of her hotel room without a shirt, all he knew was that he had to get the fucking hell out of there. And he had to do it right now.

If Daryl was reading the signs correctly, and he was almost positive that he was, the girl who he knew he loved probably more than anything he'd ever loved in his life, was falling for him. If she hadn't already done so. And that, to Daryl, was nothing short of unacceptable.

She deserved more than what he could give, what he had to offer. She deserved more.

She deserved more than him.

_"There isn't one place_

_Honey, that I'd rather be_

_Right here in your arms_

_With your head lying on me"_

Daryl grabbed his keys from the counter silently, walking the short distance from her kitchen to the front door and letting himself out quickly and doing what Daryl did best.

Daryl ran the fuck away.

_"The time to go has come and gone _

_Why can't I.. Why can't I say goodnight_.."

* * *

**AN: Please don't kill me *hides***

**special thanks to Christy/Hearts1989 to whom the smut would not be possible. She's a goddess .**

**Song credit - "Why Can't I Say Goodnight" - Sam Palladio &amp; Clare Bowen**

**until next time my love bugs **

**-Stephanie**


	13. Shrine

**AN: hey everyone! Put down your pitchforks, I'm back. I couldn't leave y'all hanging that long.**

**To the reviewer whom was very concerned that there was going to be an accidental pregnancy... I'd like to think I'm not that predictable. I usually don't go that route with my stories and I'm definitely not planning to with this one. Case and point - implied birth control.**

**I got a great response from last chapter and I'm pretty sure it's because most of you had a mental breakdown. Understandably. But still, thank you all the same.**

**As always, big shout out to Christy/Hearts1989 &amp; to Mary (my boo) for being my muses and loving me even though I tore their hearts out with last chapter.**

**And can I just say thank you to AMC for the beautiful season 5 promo pic of our girl?! Is season five the season of bethyl, or is season five the season of bethyl? Am I right?**

**The more you review, the quicker I update. Soooooo.. You don't give me a review, you risk your life *Hershel Greene voice***

**Stuff &amp; thangs. Caaaarl.**

**Until next time!**

**-Stephanie**

* * *

_How to Save a Life _

_Chapter Thirteen - "Shrine"_

* * *

_Daryl walked inside the hospital unprepared for Beth to be an absolute mess, crying and heaving, trying to catch her breath._

_It'd been about a week or so since Beth had woken up from her coma, and Daryl's routine had been the same ever since that day. He'd work, leave the shop to Tony and Martinez, and then head straight to the hospital around noon or so._

_Usually, she was more than happy to see him. Always eager to sing or tell him some story she'd thought of while he was gone. But this time, her head was in her hands, sitting up and hunched over on herself._

_"Jesus, Beth, what's the matter?" as unprepared and uncomfortable as he was with the situation, he couldn't just walk back out of the room and leave her that way._

_"Oh, Daryl, I'm sorry." She said between breaths, wiping the tears from her eyes in a haste. "It's nothing, ignore me."_

_It was clear that whatever had happened made her completely upset. Her eyes were rimmed red, making the blue in her eyes shine brighter than he ever would have thought possible._

_"Ain't nothin' if you're cryin'." He said, dropping his jacket and vest on the chair and sitting down in it, pulling it close to the bed._

_"It's stupid." She said, dragging her arm again across her face just under her nose. "I'm stupid."_

_"Y'aint stupid." He said, grabbing her hand that was now covering her swollen red eyes, forcing her to look at him. She looked so sad and broken, it damn near broke his heart to even look at her._

_She looked down, her other hand toying with the bottom of her hospital gown, rubbing it between her fingers. "It's just. I. My face. And my stomach." She said, her voice cracking._

_"I don't know what you're gettin' at Beth," he said, craning his neck._

_The hand that was toying with her gown reached up to touch along the stitches that were on her forehead, the one that stretched from near her left eyebrow and disappeared into her hairline._

_"It's gonna scar," she said quietly, "I just, I can't even see it. But I know it looks awful. I look awful. And my stomach." She touched the stiches across her abdomen through the fabric._

_The word 'scar' made himself feel uneasy almost immediately. Knowing why, because it wasn't that hard to figure out why his emotions faltered when anything like that was mentioned. But instead of becoming emotionally crippled and allowing himself to become rigid and angry, one look at Beth's broken form had the tension easing out of his shoulders._

_Maybe it was because her face mirrored what his had looked like once upon a time, twisting his neck almost all the way around as an 18 year old to assess the damage to his back in a bathroom mirror._

_What he said next, he wasn't entirely sure why he had. Because there weren't many people in his life that knew what had happened to him as a boy. He wasn't entirely sure why he felt obligated to say what he did, but it was the only thing he could think of._

_"My old man," he said, his tone just as quiet as hers was, "he was a mean sumbitch. Didn't bother with no words. Used his fists." He swallowed, "used a belt when he was feelin' up to it._

_He didn't imagine the gasp that came from her mouth at what he said, but instead of stopping like he wanted to, he pushed forward. Rubbing his thumb in circles on the skin of Beth's hand that had somehow made its way into his own._

_"Got these marks from 'im." He said, pulling the collar of his shirt down slightly to show her one of the many slashes that covered the front and the back of his torso, right underneath his collar bone, forming a cross._

_He grunted, shifting his body slightly as he took in the look her eyes were sending him. "'S one of many. Used at bother the hell outta me. Don't no more."_

_"Why not?" She asked sniffling._

_He shifted the collar of his shirt back to where it was previously. "Some girl once told me that my past is passed of me... But it don't make me who I am."_

* * *

Daryl tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he sat out front of Lake Ridge elementary school, waiting on the bell to ring and for Sophia's blonde head to come out.

It'd been the third day since he'd left Nashville, and only the first that he'd decided to get off of his ass and go back to the shop. Leaving it in the care of Martinez, Pete, and Mitch would only work for so long anyway.

And as fate would have it, that very first day, Carol decided to poke her head into the shop.

Carol had stopped by the shop earlier in the day, of course asking him hundreds of questions on where he'd been the past few weeks, to which he ignored. However, she had ended up asking him to pick Sophia up from school - she was needed at the bar that afternoon since the regular bartender had called in sick that morning.

As much as Daryl wanted to just simply disappear into the ground and have it swallow him whole, Sophia held a special place in Daryl's heart; always had. She'd become family to him, and he was helpless to deny Carol her request, especially since it meant he'd have something to get his mind off of the woman that clouded his thoughts.

And as fate would have it, the school bell rang just as Beth's voice creeped through the station of the radio daryl had playing in his truck. He was convinced that it was some kind of sick torture; having her there when she really was anywhere but.

The truck door swung open to a bright blue eyed and freckled faced Sophia, smiling like a kid on Christmas because Daryl was picking her up.

"Hey!" She said, throwing her arms around Daryl's neck. "I missed you."

"You too, sweetheart." He said as pleasantly as he could manage to, "how was school?"

"Boring." She said, rolling her eyes, every bit as a preteen as he'd remembered her being. "Made mama a painting in art class today." She said cheerfully.

"'M sure she'd like that. She had to work," Daryl explained, "told 'er I'd pick ya up for 'er."

"When'll she be home?" Sophia asked, pulling her bag off of her back little foam strap by little foam strap, plopping it onto Daryl's floorboard and buckling herself in.

"Soon enough." Daryl replied, not really knowing the answer but figuring that Carol would show up at a reasonable time.

Just as Daryl pulled the truck out of the gates of the school, Sophia jerked herself towards the stereo knob, turning the music louder and getting giddy and excited.

"I love this song!" She sang along with the words loudly as Daryl cringed, knowing all too well what was playing and how it would make him react.

Daryl swatted her hand away, turning the volume as low as it could go.

"You tryin' to blow my speakers, girl?" He said, trying to mask his discomfort of the singer with the volume of the music itself.

"You're no fun." Sophia grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

Daryl and Sophia remained silent the rest of the 10 minute drive to the Peletier residence, hopping out of the truck simultaneously. He reached for key under the mat by the front door, then opening it so Sophia could scurry inside.

"Go put your stuff in your room," Daryl said, dropping his keys and wallet on the coffee table. "I'll make you somethin' to eat."

Sophia didn't respond, but Daryl heard her footsteps track from the room as he walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge to find something to make her until Carol got home.

Daryl threw together a sandwich, with Beth's singing ringing in his ears. Irritated as all hell, he was vaguely aware of the fact that he was slamming down every single thing he touched. The sandwich meat, the bag of cheese, the jar of mayonnaise.

He turned around to find a knife from the knife block, only to catch his eye on Sophia's pink backpack thrown to the floor in the living room. With a roll of his eyes, he chucked the utensil back to the counter and grabbed her book bag, storming off to her room with the full intention of yelling at her for not following his directions.

However, all the air was knocked from Daryl's chest when he opened the door to her room. It was possible that he just never really noticed it before, but now, after everything he'd seen in the past few weeks of his life, he was painfully aware of the familiar face that was plastered across Sophia's walls and desk in the form of pictures and posters.

It was like someone was taunting him, screwing with him. There she was, Beth Greene in all of her glory singing into a microphone with her hair tumbling down her shoulders on what seemed like every single inch of Sophia's room. Like a god damn shrine to the girl.

He figured it was typical of a girl that age, but this was just unbelievable. It was twisting the knife that was lodged so deep in his gut and he was about to lose his fucking mind.

"Daryl, you alright?"

He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there, motionless with a pink strap loosely held in his hand as he stared at the photos, but it was long enough for Carol to have walked through the front door completely unnoticed.

But he didn't move at the sound of her voice, barely even realized she was there, in fact. To be honest, Daryl had momentarily been transported to flashes full of yellow flowers and hospital rooms and candles and whiskey bottles. Flashes of blonde hair and perfect white skin and a love he'd never experienced before. It was painfully bittersweet, and it rocked him to his very core.

Daryl only snapped out of it when Carol whom had become worried at Daryl's lack of reaction tentatively touched his shoulder. That, however got a reaction out of him immediately.

He jerked from out under her hand, stumbling backwards into the door frame like an idiot, before bolting out of the house so quickly he barely even realized he had done so. He ignored the muffled and concerned noises of Carol calling his name as he loaded himself into his truck and headed back to his house, fully intending on getting completely obliterated.

Maybe then, her memory would find a spot somewhere in the dark recesses of his heart and stay there.

That, however, was extremely unlikely.

* * *

A six pack of Budweiser and a fifth of Jack Daniels later, Daryl was feeling pretty buzzed. Sitting on his beaten up and torn open cloth couch, he was suddenly regretting his decision, because it seemed as though the alcohol only made her presence stronger.

The couch he was sitting on, for one, was so different from Beth's pretty and tanned leather couch. The situation itself was stark in contrast from the ones nights ago when she'd given herself to him in every sense of the damn word, and he'd greedily taken it.

_"Don't you know, Daryl. I'm giving you more than a chance."_

Daryl chucked his beer can at the wall angrily, absolutely pissed off and confused as to how Merle's voice had somehow been replaced with hers.

_"I can't believe how I got so lucky. Having you here, with me."_

Coming to a stand as gracefully as he could manage to, he stumbled to the door with his keys in hand, not really knowing where he intended on going but just knew he had to keep moving. That was the only thing he could think of.

He knew he was fooling himself into thinking that just drinking and probably aimlessly driving around would make the thoughts go away. Every single time he blinked, every single time he closed his eyes at night or even during the day, he was haunted. Haunted by her words, her body, the noises she would make, her wordless expressions, her taste. He was losing control of himself, and he was beginning to think that he was losing it completely.

Daryl grasped the door handle with the full intention of driving out into the woods to possibly clear his hind. Maybe grab his crossbow and trek into the woods for hours on end. However, he wasn't expecting to jerk the door open to Maggie Greene-Rhee with her arm raised just as she was about to knock on the door.

Daryl blinked once, twice, three times. Hoping to God that he was imagining things. The only thing that would make this harder would be having Beth herself standing at the door.

He was imagining things. He had to be.

He blinked again.

Nope, she's definitely real.

Alcohol had to have some sort of factor in the manner in which he practically shoved Maggie out of the way. It wasn't a secret of how intimidating the eldest Greene sister was to him, and even in his alcohol induced haze, he was surprised he'd even done so.

But Maggie wasn't going down without a fight.

No sooner had he made his way towards his porch steps had a feminine and really strong hand gripped his forearm and whipped him around so quickly he wouldn't have been surprised had he snapped his neck.

"Oh no you don't." Maggie growled, gripping his arm and dragging him back I front of him. The force was so strong, or maybe it was his intoxicated state, that he'd slammed his back into his own front door.

"Just where in the hell do you think you're going?" She asked. She squinted her eyes at him and took in his state. "Are you drunk?"

"Maybe." He grumbled, rubbing his head from the impact on the door.

"Maybe?" She asked incredulously, searching his eyes that couldn't seem to focus on anything, flitting around the porch lazily. "Jesus, you are!"

"Am not."

Maggie stared at him. He groaned, rubbing a hand vigorously over his sweat drenched face.

"Whattya want?" He grumbled, avoiding eye contact with the woman in front of him and focusing his stare at the ground near his boots.

"You can't be serious." Maggie's intense glare threatened to burst him into flames right where he stood, "you leave without a word, without.. Without anything! And you're asking me what I want?"

Daryl didn't answer, because he knew that what she was saying held more truth than words could really say. He'd ran away like an absolute bitch, and if he were being realistic, he half expected Maggie to show up at some point. Just not this soon.

"Daryl." Maggie said quietly, seeming to ease her tone, "I don't know what exactly happened, and I don't know what's really going on, but whatever it is... You're not going about this the right way."

"What the hell-" Daryl hiccupped. "-You know about it. You don't know 'nythin 'bout me."

Maggie nodded. "Maybe not." She said, easing herself against his porch railing, "but I do know that you're the most stubborn man I've ever met."

"'Makes ya say that?" He said, sliding down his door and sitting on his doormat.

"Somethin' scared you. That's the only thing that would make sense considering you took off without warning."

Daryl remained silent, resting his elbows on his bent knees and trying his best not to cry. Trying his best not to break apart like the absolute bitch he knew he was.

"Daryl. She loves you."

"She shouldn't."

"Doesn't matter," Maggie countered, leaning down in front of him and lifting his head up, "because she does. Whether you like it or not."

Daryl stared into Maggie's eyes, the ones that were usually full of stern command and intimidation had dulled down into nothing more that sympathy. And for once, he found himself not bothered by it.

"I'm here because of this." Maggie said, reaching into her pocket and grabbing a familiar lanyard out of the bag. Daryl's eyes watched as Maggie placed it on the ground between his feet face up, the photo of Beth staring back at him with his last name printed across the front.

"She wants you there. We all want you there, Daryl. Like it or not, you're family now."

"I don't deserve this." He mumbled out. "I don't deserve her."

"Doesn't matter what you think you deserve or what you don't." Maggie said with a sigh, raising herself back onto her feet and holding out a hand to help Daryl stand. He reluctantly accepted, shakily making his way back up to his feet.

Maggie smiled at him fondly, slinging her bag onto her shoulder and turning to make her way back to her car.

"Oh, I almost forgot." She turned back around, digging in her bag for a white envelope. She outstretched her arm again, and he warily grabbed it with a shaking hand.

Daryl tentatively reached inside, pulling out a piece of paper with an airline ticket that he read while she spoke; "Madison square garden. She always dreamed about it. And it's going to be perfect." She said, "Friday, seven PM."

"And Daryl?" She called, just as she made it to the bottom of his porch steps. "It's not too late."

"How can ya be so sure?" He asked, his voice cracking. Maggie shrugged in response, sending him another smile as her thumb toyed with the strap of her purse.

"I know my sister. And I think I know you better than you think." She said.

"When you love someone, Daryl. You don't give up." And without another word, Maggie left. Leaving Daryl staring at a laminated lanyard and an American Airlines flight pass not knowing what the hell he was going to do next.


	14. Yellow Dress

**A/N: hey guys, hope y'all are enjoying the story. I know from those of you that review frequently that you are. I'm thankful to have such faithful readers like you guys. Much, much love.**

**hey, if you haven't checked out "A Shady Affair" or "No Strings Attached by Hearts1989, first of all, you're bat shit crazy. And second of all, you should! **

**follow me on tumblr if ya wanna, I love hearing from you guys. - yourmem0rytrain**

**love y'all.**

**-Stephanie  
**

* * *

_How to Save a Life_

_Chapter Fourteen - "Yellow Dress"_

* * *

_Beth stood in the dressing room, smiling as she heard the barely coherent mumbling of Daryl outside the door. She didn't know how she'd managed to drag him along, and he was a trooper, that was for sure. She'd forced him to come with her that day to a boutique on the outskirts of town, one that had quickly become her favorite for picking out her outfits for her shows._

_This time, it was different. She'd be picking out her dress for her show in New York City, at Madison Square Garden. It was something she only dreamed about doing, and never thought that it'd actually become a reality._

_It was a few months away from now, but she wanted to make sure she'd find the right one. The perfect dress for the perfect night, hoping that Daryl would be on the side of the stage, watching her as she performed._

_She grew nervous as she finally pulled on the yellow gown that had caught her eye immediately as she first had walked into the store, feeling nervous for when she'd walk out and show it to him. Daryl was becoming something like a boyfriend to her. She wouldn't dare say it out loud, the least of all to him, but lately they were attached at the hip. They rarely went anywhere without being within earshot of each other._

_She'd already tried on about five or six of the dresses so far by that point, but for some reason, the yellow flowing gown that she slowly shimmied up her body felt different._

_She thumbed with the zipper, trying like hell to get it to go up, but for some reason, it wouldn't budge. If she were being dramatic, she would be assuming that the dress wasn't fitting because she'd gained weight. But it was clear that the zipper just wasn't going to go up without a fight._

_"Daryl, I need help." She said, groaning in frustration at the small piece of metal._

_There was a silence, and Beth began to think he'd finally given up and walked away. That or he'd walked outside for another cigarette to calm his stressed out self again. Beth could just tell he wasn't used to this sort of thing._

_After a moment, he spoke up, but struggled with his words as though it were difficult to talk. "Want me to go grab the lady at the front?"_

_"No," she said, rolling and turning the knob of the door to poke her head out at him. "It's just the zipper.. Can you?"_

_She knew that he would have probably just said no if it were under any other kind of circumstance, just judging by how uncomfortable he was in the situation to begin with. But after a moment of her pouting her lips at him, he seemed to falter a little bit._

_Beth held the dress close to her body, as not to let it just completely drop to the ground as she looked at his eyes, which seemed to be growing larger by the second, flitting down to the ground and to her eyes and to the dress itself every so often, but not responding until she cleared her throat._

_"Uh. Yeah. Turn around."_

_Daryl stood up, and she moved the door open a little bit so he could maneuver himself inside behind her. She watched as he struggled for a few moments behind her, focusing intently on the small metal zipper until it zipped all the way up to the middle of her back._

_It was probably the first time Beth had really noticed just how much bigger Daryl was in contrast to herself. She stood a meager five foot two on her own, pale skin, and blonde hair. Daryl, however, stood at least at six feet tall, lean in muscle, dark hair and eyes that looked like velvet. It was as though they were mirror opposites of each other; where she was light, Daryl was dark. It was an odd combination, she'd admit first hand. But in her mind, there was nothing odd or off balance about the two of them together at all. In her mind, everything was perfect._

_He cleared his throat, shaking his head a little bit and stepped back._

_Beth smoothed the long gown down with her fingers, turning a bit to examine the back side of it herself before turning to face him._

_"Well, what do you think?"_

_Daryl seemed to struggle with his words, and Beth watched as he scratched the back of his neck that had turned a light shade of pink in the glow of the dressing room. She smiled._

_"Beth, it's.." He trailed. But she knew what he was trying to say, without actually saying it. It was something she'd come to know about him; actions speaking louder with Daryl than any words ever possibly could._

_"You know what it reminds me of?" She asked, fiddling the fabric between her fingers; "those flowers. The ones you got me at the hospital."_

_He chuckled at that, and Beth was satisfied to get a small smile on his face. A smile she'd come to know was one that was for her, and only her. That made her heart practically stutter behind her breastbone._

_"It's perfect." She said, turning to look in the mirror. "I think this is the one."_

* * *

_"I'm Kendall Tracey and you're watching E! News"_

_"Beth Greene has had quite the exciting year, what with the car accident in July, the release of her album "Always Been Me" in September, and now, a new man in the works?"_

Maggie walked into Beth's dressing room and rolled her eyes, but Beth ignored her. She wasn't really ready to face anything right now, and if she was going to have to go on stage in a few hours, she was going to do whatever the hell she wanted. That included watching the trash T.V. that she currently was engrossing herself in.

_"That's right, Kendall. Beth Greene's been a little less than secretive about the man she's been hanging around lately. One that nobody has much of an idea of who he is or where he came from."_ Photos that had been snapped at the album release party of Daryl and herself flashed onto the screen. Beth fought the angry tears that were welling in her eyes.

_"Which begs the question: Who on earth is Beth Greene's mystery man?"_

"Will you turn that crap off?" Maggie growled over her shoulder at her. Maggie currently was thumbing her way through the rack of Beth's set clothing for her concert that night, seeming to be more excited than Beth was herself.

Truth be told, she should be excited, ecstatic, even. But she wasn't. She couldn't be.

The past week had been rough, coming to terms with what Daryl had done. And although she knew deep down that his reasoning was more than likely that he'd gotten afraid, that didn't lessen the sting of the blow.

It was what she knew was going to happen, if she really thought about it. Everyone else in her life had somehow run out on her or left her at some point or another - what made Daryl any different?

Problem with that was, Daryl was different. Different in so many ways to Beth that it frustrated the absolute hell out of her. Made her feel sick to her stomach sometimes, too. She failed to remember who she even was before he came along. His being gone had left a complete void in her life and heart that ached something awful, made her insides twist inside out.

Even in dress rehearsal, Beth had been a mess. And not to mention, Maggie had gone to his house a few days prior against Beth's wishes and talked to him. Beth had immediately indicated that she didn't care, but the truth was, she just simply didn't want to know. Didn't want her heart to rip and tear and bleed any more than it already was.

Maggie walked over to the television and switched it off, standing in front of the blackened screen with her arms folded across her chest, staring at Beth with that mother hen look that absolutely drove her insane.

"What?" She said, glaring back at her sister, not really in the mood for whatever the hell it was she was going to say.

"Get off your ass, and let's get going. You only have two hours until curtain time."

"Yeah, I know. How could I not? You remind me every half hour."

"Don't get snappy with me just because you're in a shitty mood." Maggie said, walking over to the rack again to pull out her dress. "C'mon, get ready. We don't have time for this right now."

Beth groaned, standing to her feet and trudging her way on over to the dress Maggie'd pulled out, hastily removing her robe to slip into it.

She'd picked it out a few months before the show, shortly after her hospital discharge. It was yellow and flowing, and it reminded her of the flowers that Daryl had brought to her the morning that she'd woken up. She'd told him that too, the day she'd picked it out.

She shook her head to rid herself of the memory that was so achingly sweet that it made her head hurt. Turning to face the long mirror in front of her just as she had those few months ago.

"That looks amazing on you, Bethy." Maggie said, standing behind her and squeezing her shoulders comfortingly.

Beth nodded, knowing that Maggie was right. The dress was too perfect for words.

Nobody knew yet, and her band and Maggie and probably Mr. Porter would have a total meltdown, but she didn't care. She'd snuck in a new piece, one she'd been working on for a while to play towards the end of her set. Things had changed recently, that was for sure, but it was important for her to go ahead with it anyway. Whether Daryl ever came back or not - whether he wanted to or not - the song she'd written about him still rang true in her mind. And it was time for the world to know about the person that'd changed her world, and that regardless of anything else, still was her world.

"Alright, I'm gonna go get Amy for your make up and hair, we gotta get rolling." Maggie said, thumbing a strand of Beth's hair between her fingers before bolting out of the room and into the busy and crowded hallway outside.

Beth thumbed through the curls in her hair herself during Maggie's brief absence, waiting to hear Amy's chipper voice ringing into her ears. However, she was pleasantly surprised to hear someone else's instead.

"Oh my, Bethy. You look absolutely beautiful."

Beth swiveled around in her chair to see Maggie's smiling face directly behind her father, Patricia gripping the handles of his wheelchair tightly and her eyes looking glassy as though she were about to cry.

"Patricia! Daddy!" Beth exclaimed, nearly tripping over herself to bend down and wrap her arms around her father's neck who chuckled as she did so.

"I'm so glad you came." Beth said quietly, stepping to the side to embrace Patricia as well.

"You look just like your mama, Beth. Stunning." Patricia gushed, holding Beth's hands and stepping back to get a better look at her.

"She'd be so proud of you." Her father said, reaching up to place his hand up on her forearm.

Beth swallowed thickly, trying her hardest not to cry. After everything, the last thing she needed was to break down in front of her family.

"She would be." Patricia smiled, looking up towards the ceiling. "And she is."

Beth smiled, "Are you staying for the show?" She asked, looking between the two.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, sweetheart." Hershel said, nodding in agreement. "Where's Daryl? Is he coming tonight?"

Beth froze.

She knew her dad would ask, mostly considering the fact that her father had an immense respect for Daryl and always asked about him when she'd call him on the phone every so often.

But the wound was still fresh. So fresh that even just someone mentioning his name or bringing him up in the context of a conversation casually made her heart clench. It made if feel like she'd sliced her skin open and someone was rubbing salt into the wound.

"Alright, you two can talk when the show's over." Maggie said, opening the door back up, and effectively saving Beth from the question she was dreading and unprepared to answer. Maggie probably sensed Beth's hesitation. That, or she'd seen the hurt look in her eyes.

"I'll see you soon." Beth choked out, trying hard not to clench her teeth and grind them together, watching as Patricia led them out back to the hallway.

"You're gonna have to tell him eventually, Beth." Maggie said, clicking the door shut and leaning herself against it, giving her the same look she'd been giving her for the past week.

"I know." She replied, turning around to sit back in her chair. "Just not yet."

After fiddling with her swollen eyes in the mirror for a few moments, Beth felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. Almost as though someone was staring at her.

Low and behold, through the reflection of the mirror, Beth could see Maggie standing just behind her, giving her a look of sympathy and staring back into her eyes.

Beth rolled her eyes, "Maggie I know you're trying to help, but please. You have to stop." She said, turning the chair around halfway to meet her eyes with Maggie's.

"You're gonna have to let me deal with this on my own."

* * *

"I wanna thank y'all for coming out tonight! You guys are incredible, and I have the best fans in the world, absolutely hands down."

Beth peered out into the audience over the bright camera lights flashing and the glare of the overhead ones.

"I got something special for you tonight, Madison Square." she said, turning around to face her band, signaling them that she wouldn't need them for her next song.

Her guitarist and back up vocalists have her a questioning look, but didn't argue - exiting stage left as Beth removed her earpiece from her ear.

Not even fifteen seconds after Beth had made her announcement and waved her band off, she heard Maggie's voice all but shouting in her ear asking her what the hell she was doing - just as she'd expected.

The cheering was loud, so loud even. But it was odd that Beth wasn't even really paying it any mind, too consumed with what she was about to do, she made her way over to her piano. The piano was set up at the end of a long catwalk towards the center of the arena, exactly as she wanted it to be.

She held her hand out as she walked, brushing her hand along the hands of her flailing and screaming fans along the edge of the stage, finally sitting down on the bench and twisting the metal coil of the microphone to her mouth.

She took a deep breath, hoping like hell that she wouldn't lose her nerve. She nodded to the crew member off to the side of the stage who was the only one aware of what she was about to do, and closed her eyes.

If there was any time to not do what she'd been planning on doing, it'd be right now.


	15. The Passenger

Evenin' folks, I'm back.

It's official, 20 days until the season premiere and I'm probably going to lose my shit between now and then. But hey, high five my friends, we made it through the hiatus! Well. Almost. But you get what I mean.

Anyway, this chapter was intended to pick up where Beth's left off last chapter, but it would have been way, way, WAY, too long. Therefore, you have an extra chapter here. Voila.

Also, this story is nearing it's end. I'm gonna take a second to thank each and every single one of you for your love.

Leave me a review, if ya loved it, if ya hated it. You know the drill.

As always, huge thanks to Christy for editing my atrocious grammatical errors, and to Mary and Ash for being unwavering supporters.

So now. If you'll excuse me.. I have some Norman Reedus pictures to stare at.

Love y'all.

-Stephanie

* * *

_How to Save a Life_

_Chapter Fifteen - "The Passenger"_

* * *

Daryl was almost positive he'd never felt more out of place in his entire life. And considering the situations he'd been in lately, that was saying a hell of a lot.

It's was 9 o'clock in the morning, and Daryl felt antsy and uncomfortable in the leather clad bench seat of the Atlanta International airport, twiddling his thumbs together in an attempt to calm his high strung nerves and his relentless thought process.

Truth be told, Daryl wasn't entirely sure what he was doing. He wasn't entirely sure how he'd even managed to somehow convince himself to head here to board that plane. It went against everything that he believed, everything that he thought was right.

The minutes ticked by slowly, tauntingly, as the plane that would take him to New York pulled into view out of the tall glass window directly to the left of where he was sitting. He tried like hell to keep his mind occupied, but that just wasn't working at all. That had been the case with every single train of thought he had recently, anyway.

"Now boarding sections A through H for non-stop service from Atlanta to New York."

Daryl stood up, fighting himself the entire way as he grabbed his small duffle bag from its place near his feet, shouldering it and walking over to hand his flight pass to the attendant.

It was mind boggling how frustratingly confused he'd become lately, questioning and second guessing every single thought and every single action that he made or did. One part of his mind telling him to run the fuck back to his truck and get the hell out of there because he'd already screwed things up and there was no point, and the other convincing him to board that plane and make it to his girl before it was too late.

If it wasn't already too late.

In reality, it wasn't that far of a walk from Daryl's seat in the waiting area to the seat he'd be parking his ass for the next six hours or so. But it felt a lot longer as he walked down that small confined space as quickly as he could manage to.

Daryl had stared at his plane ticket so many times for so long over the past 48 hours that he'd already memorized his seat number. However, he was less than thrilled when he figured out that his seat was located in the front of the plane itself, in first class of all fucking places.

"Fuckin' Maggie." Daryl grumbled under his breath. He knew she'd probably be getting a kick out of seeing how uncomfortable he was with the situation in its entirety. She was like that with him, loved to poke fun at him every chance she got.

She wasn't even here, and she somehow managed to still be able to do so. Screw with him. He forced down the smile that threatened to spread across his face at the thought of what she'd say if she could see him right now.

He buckled himself into the seat that was way too clean and fancy for his liking, pulling down the armrests on either side of him as to have something to lean his arms on as he pressed his head back into the headrest and squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

He silently hoped that by some miracle there wouldn't be anyone in the seat next to him. That way, he could keep the ever present scowl plastered on his face and just bide time and hope the plane ride itself went by quickly and painlessly. But of course, he had no such luck.

Daryl looked up to find his apparent neighbor for the upcoming flight. "Excuse me." She spoke quietly, moving past his legs as he pulled them closer to him in order to let her pass and sit in her seat by the window.

The woman was striking, her features prominent and her brightly colored clothing sharp in contrast to the dark tone of her skin. She had neat dreadlocks that reached just past her shoulder, pulled back tight across her forehead with an orange and red headband.

Daryl got caught examining the woman and ducked his head immediately. The last thing he needed right now was to engage in a conversation with someone, much less a complete stranger.

However, the woman seemed to have a different agenda.

"Michonne." She offered, holding her slender hand out to him. He eyed her hand first, then looked up to her eyes, then took her hand in his own briefly.

"Daryl." He replied quietly, desperately hoping that the flight attendant would announce that the plane was to take off soon; he really just wanted to get this shit over with.

"So, what's bringing you to New York?" Michonne asked, pulling her tray table down and placing her cell phone on it. "You don't strike me as the city kinda guy."

Daryl groaned. He knew it was coming, heard about it now and again how people talked your god damn ear off on flights and he just simply wasn't in the fucking mood. Not today, not now, not ever.

However, he couldn't find it in himself to be a complete and total dick today. Actually, the gruff and angry exterior had been shelved away for so long since Beth had walked into his life. So long, in fact that wearing his trademark scowl made him feel a little uneasy and uncomfortable in his own skin lately.

"Got some stuff to take care of." He mumbled, worrying his thumb between his teeth, the sound coming out muffled underneath the pad of his thumb.

"Ah." Michonne replied, looking at her nails with the dusting of a small smile on her lips, "Man of few words, I take it."

His brows lifted at her slight boldness; "Nah." He mumbled, wincing as he finally broke the skin of his flesh between his teeth, "jus' ain't got much to say 'bout the whole thing."

"Well it's none of my business, but," Daryl inwardly groaned, knowing she was going to say something after that and it would likely irritate the shit out of him, "in my experience, somebody that has stuff to take care of usually has a lot to say, they just don't say it out loud."

Daryl bit back the 'y_ou're right, it ain't none of your damn busines_s' that formed in the back of his throat. Not for nothing, but, something about this woman kinda scared him, almost in the same way that Maggie had when he'd first met her.

And it was odd what happened next, and he assumed it was probably because he knew for a damn fact he'd never see the woman again, so instead of staying silent, he opened his mouth.

"I fucked things up." He said, almost a whisper it had come out so quietly. "And I dunno if it's too late."

"So it's a girl." She said, raising a hand to her chin and looking thoughtful, "The one who got away, huh?" She slumped down lower, relaxing into the leather chair beneath her.

"Not really." He said, knowing that she didn't 'get away', per se. After all, he'd been the one that left her. "'M just an asshole. Tha's all." Daryl replied honestly, dropping his eyes down to his feet. Feeling the truth in those words stung his heart more than he'd ever thought they would.

"You love her?" Daryl looked at the woman, now baffled completely by her boldness and his lack of angry response. Who the hell was this lady?

"The girl." She pressed when Daryl didn't respond immediately. "Do you love her?"

"What the hell kinda question is that?"

"An important one, I'd say. Probably the only one that matters."

Just as Daryl was about to respond to her, the intercom above the seat interrupted them, to which Daryl was thankful because he really didn't know what the hell he was going to say to that.

He hadn't said it out loud yet. That was the problem. He'd said it in his head, thought about it more than he cared to admit, but the words never came out of his mouth. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to say it, if he was being honest with himself.

Even as the plane took off of the runway, Daryl still wasn't sure how to respond. Michonne clearly wasn't all that phased by his lack of response, pulling a hardcover book out of her pack and focusing her intense stare on the pages of it, not giving Daryl much of a second glance. This went on for the next few hours, Daryl staring hard at the back of the seat in front of him, so hard he thought his eyes were going to roll out of his own damn eye sockets.

And didn't that just bother the shit out of him because, here he was, repeating her words over and over in his head, grinding his teeth and gripping the edges of the arm rests something fierce. He replied to her, only in his head, of course, more than a hundred times it seemed._ I love her, I've always loved her, she's my girl, ain't nobody else in this god damn world that I care about more than Beth Greene. _But the words just wouldn't form. Wouldn't go past his brain and form through his vocal chords and pass his lips for the fucking life of him.

After what seemed like a lifetime, he cracked. Felt it deep somewhere in his chest, resonating throughout his entire body, his blood pumping through his ears alarmingly loud as he opened his mouth finally.

"I do."

Michonne lifted her eyebrows in surprise. Daryl figured that she had assumed that he just wasn't going to reply at all. She straightened her back out, closed her book down flat in front of her and shifted to face him.

"You do what?"

"Love her. I do."

"So, what's the problem then?"

_Christ_, the woman was pushy. Daryl didn't know what the hell he'd done to deserve all of the really high strung and confident women that had come bombarding into his life lately, but it was starting to become downright exhausting.

"I ain't no good for her. Someone like her." He replied over the constant hum of the planes engines. "She deserves more than what I got, can't give 'er what she deserves."

"And you're not good enough for her because..?" She trailed in response, clearly intrigued judging by the look on her face.

The answer that he'd formulated in his head long ago came tumbling out of his lips on their own accord; "She ain't nothin' like me. Got me twisted inside out worse than I ever been in my whole god damn life. But I _done_ too much bad shit. _Seen_ too much bad shit. She ain't for me, and I know that." He rubbed a hand over his heated face vigorously. "I ain't a good person."

Michonne grabbed her purse off of the floor after a moment, seeming to consider his words briefly before doing so. She reached into the large shoulder bag and retrieved out a leather bill fold, handing it to him as she folded the side back to reveal a picture behind a thin layer of plastic.

It was a photo of Michonne, standing next to a man in a police uniform, both smiling wildly at one another, and a small child that looked just like the woman in front of him latched onto the man's hip.

"That's my husband," she explained. "His names Rick. I met him about five years ago."

Daryl scanned the photo again, mostly because he wasn't exactly sure what she was getting at or how it pertained to him at all.

"Before I met him, I used to work nights." She said quietly, taking the billfold back as Daryl gestured it back to her. "I mean I used to _work nights."_

It clicked after a second, he was unsure at first of what it really meant until he heard how the tone of her voice changed.

She _worked_ nights.

"Rick, he was patrolling one night undercover and to make a long story short, I ended up in handcuffs in the back of his squad car." She said quietly.

Daryl stared at her just as intently as she was staring at him. "When I got out, I hadn't even made it to the bus stop when someone grabbed me, slammed me against the wall. Called me trash and worthless just like everyone had already done in my life, and I believed it. Always had."

"Turns out," she continued, "the man was his partner, deputy or somethin'. Rick came out when he heard me yelling and he... He saved me."

"I was hurt, busted lip, could barely open my eyes he knocked me around so badly. And Rick, he took care of me. Started looking after me. Helped me."

"And before I knew it, I fell for the guy. And he'd fallen for me too. And one day, there I was. Thirty years old, pregnant by my good for nothing ex-boyfriend, sitting at the dinner table with him and his son, and it hit me."

Daryl couldn't believe this woman had all but laid her whole life out for him, the way that probably this woman only could. There was something intriguing about her, about her life, about her story. Something that made Daryl trust her, even though he didn't know her much more than the next person he'd come across.

"What hit ya?" He asked.

"That I didn't deserve him." She said, and finally Daryl got it. He finally understood what she was getting at. "That a girl like me, who's done awful the things like I have. Didn't deserve someone like Rick. Didn't deserve to be happy."

"But you're married, ain't ya?" Daryl countered, and he was relieved as Michonne looked away for a moment and then smiled fondly.

"He'd always told me how great I was. How beautiful and how much he cared about me." She said, diverting from the question only momentarily, "I was on my way to the Greyhound station, miserable and alone when I finally realized that I wasn't that scared broken woman anymore. And the only reason why, was because he saved my life. And it was more than him saving me from being beaten half to death on the side of the street. He pulled me back from the edge and he _loved_ me. More than anyone else ever had. I don't know if I'd even be alive if not for him, Daryl. And that's the God's honest truth"

What was the most shocking about this whole scenario, about what he'd just learned about the tough and strong looking woman in front of him, was that Michonne wasn't that far of a stretch away from being like Daryl himself. Beth was to Daryl, exactly what Rick was to Michonne. That little shining light at the end of a very dark, and very long tunnel.

Daryl felt like the wind had gotten knocked out of him again, unable to really fully explain how much fucking sense this woman made all of the sudden and he found himself wishing that he'd have met her a while ago. Wishing that she'd talked sense into him a long time ago, just as she was doing right now.

"You went back?" He asked quietly, "and he forgave you?"

"He did. Don't know why, he's an angel, that man is."

"Yeah." Daryl agreed, that was what Beth was to him, of course. A_ god damn angel_. An angel that was everything he'd never known that he'd ever needed in his life, and it was in that moment that he'd realized just how big of a mistake he'd made.

"I dunno if she'll forgive me. I sure as fuck don't deserve it."

Michonne smiled again, this time though, it was more of a tight lipped and slightly sad smile that graced her features. "If she loves you, she will."

"How can ya be so sure?" He was fishing for answers that he needed, wanted to hear that he wasn't making a mistake even though he knew that getting Beth to forgive him was a shot in the dark.

"I don't know, just a feelin'." She said, shrugging and straightening herself up in her chair. It was only then that Daryl realized she'd been crying during her long speech to him, watching as her slender finger came up to wipe the wetness from her eyes.

"Anyone that puts up with the assholes like us, they tend to be saints. I think you don't give your girl enough credit. She probably loves you more than you know."

Daryl chuckled at that, knowing all too well the truth behind that statement, as far as he was concerned at least.

"This very well might be your one and only chance to make it right." She said, smiling and buckling her seat belt as the plane began to make it's descent. "If I were you, I'd be wise and not screw this up."


	16. Wherever You Will Go

**Greetings from my cave of a bedroom that I've been in all day watching season four. Again.**

**I hope you enjoy this, because it was a royal bitch to write and I can only hope you guys see it the way I do.**

**song credit for this chapter is "Wherever You Will Go" - the acoustic version done by Charlene Soraia. I suggest you listen to that version to get a feel of how it sounds.**

**Love y'all, until next time.**

**-Stephanie**

* * *

_How to Save a Life_

_Chapter Sixteen - "Wherever You Will Go"_

* * *

6:45 PM. That's exactly what time Daryl's plane landed on the runway in New York. It was the exact time that he'd also made up his mind that this was the right thing to do. He was going back to her, to get her back. Come hell or high water.

It wasn't going to be easy, though, and he'd known that going into this whole thing. He'd left like a typical douchebag; he fucked her, then he left her. And initially that was nothing more than a testament to prove just how shitty he really was as not only a person but a man as well. However, after the conversation with Michonne and after thinking about all of the things that Beth had always said to him, he knew it wasn't the way it looked. He was just a pussy. He was terrified and he didn't know what to do.

He didn't know which scenario was worse.

If he really thought about it, what he had done was the only thing that he really knew how to do, the only thing he'd ever known. _Pack your shit, get up, leave. Get out of here and don't look back otherwise your heart will clench and bleed and burn and it'll hurt even worse than the metal buckle on the end of that belt._

But things were different now. He knew that he had to shove that part of him away because if he didn't, he would lose Beth forever. And a life without Beth was simply not a life worth living in Daryl's eyes.

He had thanked Michonne with a nod of the head and another brief handshake as he disembarked the plane that evening, truthfully, he probably should have gotten down onto his knees and kissed the ground she walked on. She had done more for him then she'd probably ever know.

7:45 PM. That's exactly the time it was when Daryl finally made it through the god damn shit show that was downtown New York City. Weaving in and out of traffic in the back seat of a taxi, grunting and shifting in his anxious and amped up state. When he'd finally arrived towards the arena, he'd tapped the front seat of the cab, signaling that he was going to exit, throwing him a twenty dollar bill rather roughly, and jumped out of the car, hustling his way towards wherever the staff entrance would be.

Showing his badge to the staff that seemed to lurk around every single corner, he was well aware of the noise that pumped out of the speakers and through the walls. Although the sound was muffled, it was easy to tell that Beth had already taken the stage. It was her voice that came through the walls and traveled into his ears. That voice was absolutely unmistakable.

It was seeing Glenn that stopped him dead in his tracks. He was standing at the end of the long hallway with his arms folded over his chest, deep in conversation with someone in a black shirt that read "Event Staff" across the back of it in large white lettering.

It took a moment for Glenn to realize that there was someone just randomly standing in the hall, staring at him for some reason as Daryl was. And Daryl was unsure of what his reaction would be. That, and he wasn't sure what he knew about the whole situation with Beth and himself.

Glenn however, looked more puzzled than anything else, cocking his head to the side and dismissing the worker in front of him, making his way over to approach Daryl.

"What're you doing here?" Glenn asked with a scratch to his head, his voice lacking any anger or wariness, sounding a little more than confused. Daryl knew then that he was probably right in his assumption that Glenn likely knew even less about what was going on than anyone else in the Greene family's inner circle.

Daryl struggled with his words yet again, not really knowing if saying _'I fucked things up and I don't really know if I can fix it_' was even the right thing to say right at that moment.

"I uh," he stammered quietly, averting his eyes anywhere but to Glenn's, "you seen Maggie?"

Glenn's eyebrows lifted in surprise, and Daryl swallowed hard from the backs of his teeth to the end of his throat, trying hard not to let himself lose control of his emotions.

"Yeah, sure I'll bring you to her." Glenn said, turning on his heels and leading Daryl through the what seemed like endless doorways and hallways, weaving in and out of them until Maggie was within eyesight, watching Beth on a monitor in the small room she was in, barking commands at someone through the headset over her head and attached to her right ear.

"Maggie, Daryl's here." Glenn said, loud enough for Maggie's eyes to snap in their direction and to get her to tug off her headset. Maggie looked worn, tired, exhausted and stressed out. It was a look that Daryl recognized as one she wore in the hospital day after day, waiting on her sister to emerge from her coma.

Through her weariness though, Maggie broke into a face splitting grin at the sight of him, to which he instantly began to feel uncertain about up until Maggie walked over and threw her arms around his shoulders to hug him tightly. He stiffened momentarily, unsure of how to react to the warm and friendly gesture, but slowly relaxed after a moment, realizing then that Maggie wasn't going to rear back and sock him in the face. Truthfully, he had expected that much. Because anyone with a brain knew he sure as hell deserved it.

She leaned back after a moment, tucking a stand of wild brown cropped hair behind her ear and still smiling up at Daryl until her face turned into something knowing, a smirk forming across her face.

"Enjoy your flight?"

Daryl shook his head, willing to bet that Maggie probably would have paid a shit load of money to see Daryl's face when he'd realized just where his seat had been on the plane.

"I don't think I gotta tell ya." He grumbled, shaking his head and ignoring the chuckle that Maggie had failed to stifle at his reaction. He glanced at Glenn, who looked even more confused and out of place than he did before.

Then, Daryl didn't really know what to do with himself; standing in the room with Maggie and Glenn, trying like holy hell not to get distracted by the sight of Beth over on the monitor just behind Maggie's head. Maggie, as usual, sensed his conflicted state, and fumbled back for her headset.

"Let's go." She said, pulling the mendable plastic piece over her head and wrapping it around the back of her neck, shielding it underneath her hair. "I'll get you over to the stage, she's been killing it so far."

Daryl followed Maggie and a still clueless looking Glenn out the door and through the hallway, making their way towards the sounds of the music, it growing louder and louder and closer and closer with every step he took.

* * *

What happened almost immediately after meeting up with Maggie and Glenn was enough to break a lesser man, let alone Daryl himself.

He had walked in time with the two, listening as Maggie went on and on about how the crowd was sold out and that this performance was talked up to be likely the most important performance in Beth's career thus far, but truthfully, Daryl hadn't been listening all that well to what she was really saying.

He had been focusing too hard on the steps he was taking, placing one foot in front of the other, not paying any mind at all to anything else going on around him until Maggie's high pitched and angered voice rang into his ears.

"Beth?" She said loudly, pulling the microphone on the end of her headset close to her mouth. Daryl looked over at Maggie just as the words left her mouth.

"Elizabeth Anne Greene just what in the _hell_ do you think you're doing?!" She shouted even louder through the small plastic piece surrounding her ears.

"Jesus Christ. Glenn, I don't know what she's doing." She screeched under her breath, tugging the headset off of her ears erratically. Daryl's mind began to swim momentarily, wondering what the hell was going on and why the hell everyone around him was running around like something was wrong. Maggie and Glenn took off in opposite directions, shouting orders at people around them as Daryl stood a little dumbfounded where they had left him.

It was only in that particular moment that Daryl had realized that the lights of the stage were focused on only Beth on a small part of the stage, at the end of an illuminated walkway sitting on a piano bench, tapping the keys lightly.

"As you all know, I was in a car accident over the summer." She said into the mic, Daryl's eyes catching on the trail of the long yellow dress that he soon came to recognize as the one she'd tried on a few months back. "And I don't think I'll ever stop thanking you guys for the love and the support that you gave to me, and that you still give to me." She said, the crowd erupting into a loud roar for a moment.

"When I was little, I always dreamed of a Prince Charming. Someone who'd sweep me off of my feet and take my breath away. Ride off into the sunset and we'd live happily ever after."

Daryl's eyes drifted over slightly to the large screen that better focused on Beth's face, he watched her as she swallowed hard and blinked rather quickly. He knew by the look on her face that she was trying her hardest not to cry.

"Now, though, I don't dream of Prince Charmings, and I don't dream of happily ever afters. Because recently I learned that when you meet that special person. Your person. You realize that that's not even what you really wanted at all."

Daryl's heart thudded uncontrollably in his chest.

"When I woke up on that side of the road alone in my car, I thought that I would never find the love that I'd always dreamed of. And I was right, because I didn't."

"I found something else." She said, a smile finally ghosting over her lips. "I found something better. _Someone_ better than anything I could have ever dreamed of."

Beth's eyes moved from the crowd to look towards the main stage, just as he noticed most of the audience had followed her gaze, erupting into another loud roar that made Beth's smile grow even larger. He let himself do the same, tearing his eyes away from her face almost unwillingly until his eyes finally focused on what everyone was looking at.

And Daryl swore he stopped breathing.

There, on the largest screen towering over the back of the stage, was a picture blown up for everyone to see. It was a scene pictured so beautifully that it made Daryl's heart ache, and he felt as though someone reached into his body and tore it right out of him where he stood.

It was a scene he knew very well. One that he'd etched into his memory so deeply that he usually could see it even with his eyes closed. Beth was sitting up in the hospital bed, eyes bright and blue and beautiful with a light bandage over the top of her head. Right next to her, he realized fairly quickly that he was looking at _himself_. He had both hands wrapped around one of her small ones, his elbows on his knees in his hunched over form and his lips touching her knuckles. She was smiling at him, her other hand cradled around the side of his head, unaware of anyone else that had been in the room. Honestly, Daryl didn't even know when or how the picture was taken; God knows he didn't remember anyone doing so.

"The man that saved my life that night was that person. _My person_. And he didn't just save my life in the literal sense. He did it in every single imaginable way."

Daryl barely could inhale at that point, still staring at the photo on the screen as tears threatened to surface behind his eyes, stinging them with such force that it made his head hurt.

"When you find a love like the one I did, and I hope that you all do, I want you to hold on to it, cherish it, and don't ever let go. Because I never will."

"And I don't know where he really is right now, but that doesn't even matter because he's here." Daryl's eyes shifted back over to Beth's, and he watched as she placed a hand over her heart. "Right here. And he always will be."

"So, this is for him. Wherever he is. My person. And even though I didn't get to be with him as long as I wanted to, I want him to know that I'm always with him, just like he is with me."

"So Daryl, if you're listening," he gripped the side of the wall next to him at the sound of his name to prevent himself from collapsing straight onto the ground below him.

"Please know this: I owe you my life, and I want to thank you for saving it, and even though you may not believe it, I love you. And I'll be with you wherever you will go."

"So lately, been wondering, Who will be there to take my place

_When I'm gone, you'll need love_

_To light the shadows on your face_

_If a great wave shall fall_

_It'd fall upon us all_

_And between the sand and stone_

_Could you make it on your own?"_

_"If I could, then I would_

_I'll go wherever you will go_

_Way up high or down low_

_I'll go wherever you will go"_

_"And maybe, I'll find out_

_The way to make it back someday_

_To watch you, to guide you_

_Through the darkest of your days"_

_"If a great wave shall fall_

_It'd fall upon us all_

_Well I hope there's someone out there who can bring me back to you"_

_"If I could, then I would,_

_I'll go wherever you will go_

_Way up high or down low_

_I'll go wherever you will go"_

_"Run away with my heart. Run away with my hope. Run away with my love."_

_"I know now, just quite how_

_My life and love might still go on_

_In your heart, in your mind_

_I'll stay with you for all of time"_

_"If I could turn back time, I'll go wherever you will go_

_If I could make you mine, I'll go wherever you will go_

_"I'll go wherever you will go"_

Daryl wasn't altogether too sure how long he'd been standing, more or less leaning on the side of the wall next to him as tears blurred his vision, standing motionless as his brain just was completely unable to keep up with what was going on around him. It was only when someone stood in front of him and grabbed his face that he was able to snap the hell out of it, somewhat, at least.

He'd later realize it'd been about 20 minutes or so, the concert ending and the people filing themselves out one by one. Daryl had leaned on that wall crying like the bitch he felt like for almost half an hour.

"Daryl." Maggie's voice said, holding both sides of his face and jerking it slightly, "Daryl, look at me." Maggie's worried eyes flicked back and forth from Glenn who stood next to her, looking equally if not more concerned than hers.

"Daryl." She repeated, even louder, her hands going to his shoulders and shaking them back and forth rougher than they had done to his face. "C'mon, Dixon, pull it together for Christ's sake!" She said, shaking him back and forth.

He was aware of all of what Maggie was doing and saying, but he was rendered useless and speechless, unable to move, breathe, think, or talk. He couldn't even look into Maggie's eyes and focus on them. He was too overwhelmed with what he had seen. What he had heard.

That was until a small but very recognizable voice said his name again. His eyes snapped to just past were Maggie was standing in front of him and he felt like the sky was the ground and the ground was the fucking sky. Beth was standing there, eyes worried and loving and bright blue as they'd ever been, staring at him like she could see straight through him and look straight at the wounded and bleeding pieces of his heart.

"Daryl?"


	17. Out Cold

**AN: I don't have much as an authors note other than holy shit only one more walking dead-less Sunday to go holy shit I'm going to pass out I can't breathe.**

**Caaaaarl.**

**Enjoy! Read, review. Stuff. Thangs.**

**Hey! Follow me on tumblr! I love hearing from y'all.**

**Username - YourMem0ryTrain**

**Love you guys! Dearly. I do.**

**-Stephanie**

* * *

_How to Save a Life_

_Chapter Seventeen - "Out Cold"_

* * *

Beth had expected a lot of things as she exited the stage after her performance, but what she had actually ended up witnessing was not one of them.

She expected a red faced, completely pissed off and screaming Maggie. She'd all but already formulated a general idea of what it was that she was going to say. Something along the lines of that she'd never be able to play at Madison Square again because her set went too long, and that she was acting like a petulant child, and what the hell was she thinking. That was a given, she knew that.

She expected to be able to go back to her room, scrub the makeup off of her face and change into her sweatpants and curl up on the couch and just have an altogether good and well overdue crying session. She was emotionally drained in every sense of the word and really, she'd been looking forward to doing just that.

Hell, she had been prepared to see and deal with a lot of things. But this was not one of them. She sure as hell hadn't been expecting to round the corner to see one Daryl Dixon completely pale and wet faced, emotionless as his eyes slowly rolled back into his head, Glenn catching him underneath the arms just in time to save him from collapsing into a heap onto the ground.

At the moment, Beth was in her dressing room, staring at him as he slept in his passed out state, sitting on a chair she'd pulled up next to the couch Glenn and Maggie had laid him on, trying to figure out just what in the hell she was going to say. What in the hell she was going to do.

"Should we get Patricia?" Maggie had said as they lied him down, "Maybe she can help. I don't know what happened he-. He just completely checked out, Beth."

Beth hadn't replied to her, just shook her head in response and never strayed her gaze from the man lying a few inches away from her. She was struggling to come up with anything that she could do but honestly, she had just wanted to be left alone with him. She needed to talk to him, and she knew that. She just didn't know how.

He looked peaceful in that moment, a far cry from the look she'd seen moments ago in the small backstage area. His features were prominent as ever, and the bags underneath his eyes were still clearly visible. She wondered idly for a moment if he'd even slept at all during their time apart from one another, because he was exhausted by the looks of it.

She wondered also, how he had managed to get there in the first place. She sure as hell hadn't even thought of the possibility that Daryl would have even showed up that night. It was wishful thinking, and Beth knew just as well as anyone that wishful thinking got you absolutely nowhere.

She figured Maggie had to have been behind it. Knowing her sister, showing up to where Daryl lived was something completely characteristic of her. She could almost see the petrified look on Daryl's face in her mind that he'd probably had the second he laid eyes on her.

Him actually coming though? It stunned the hell out of her. This was just simply the very last thing she had expected.

And yet, here he was. Lying unconscious on the long leather couch with one leg dangling off of the side loosely, his breathing even and steady, his hair long and clean and his facial hair clearly trimmed. She smiled for a moment, oddly feeling a little impressed that Daryl had seemed to clean himself up before making the trip here.

It was only when Daryl's form on the couch shifted, and a familiar low groan rumbled from his chest, that Beth came to realize that he was waking up from his passed out state.

Daryl's eyes slowly opened and fought to focus on the ceiling above him, Beth watched the entire scene play out before her.

He looked like a caged animal for a moment, his eyebrows scrunching together as he lifted his hands to examine where his body exactly was, his eyes flitting around the room nervously until they finally landed on her own. She watched as a series of emotions crossed over his face in record speed, his eyes blinking more times than she could count as his face finally turned into what she could only assume was one thing: Fear.

Her heart skipped a beat or two in that moment, watching as he squinted his eyes shut for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Am I dead?" His voice came out rough and sleep-laden. Beth snorted.

"What makes you say that?" She asked quietly.

"I'm dead." He said, covering his eyes with his hands. "Dead, or I'm seeing things."

Beth stayed silent for a moment, not really sure where she was supposed to go with that statement.

"You're not dead, Daryl." She said, moving his arm away from over his face, forcing him to look at her dead on. "And you're not seeing things. I'm here."

Beth swallowed hard. "What I'm trying to figure out though, is what _you're_ doing here."

She watched as Daryl gave her a look that she couldn't quite place, and slowly raised himself to a sitting position directly in front of where her chair was placed. His face was now a bright red color, much different than the pale one he'd sported just moments ago. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and made some incoherent grumbling noises that only made Beth grow angry at his lack of response.

She understood Daryl, mostly. Understood the reasons why he was so standoffish and angry with people most of the time. She knew he'd had a hard life and knew that he'd gone through some really awful and quite frankly, unimaginable things. However, pity or sadness was not one the things she was feeling for him right now. It was only anger. Red hot seething anger for what he had done.

"Maggie." He finally said in almost a whisper. "She came to my house the other night."

Beth almost choked on the annoyed groan that formed in her vocal chords. She really wanted to reach over and strangle him at the moment, but decided against it.

"Well yeah, I know _that_." She replied, "But you still didn't answer my question, Daryl. What are you doing here?"

Another deafening silence fell over the room as Daryl seemed to be struggling harder than he ever had to formulate a response to her question. In reality, the question was really, really fucking simple. But it was clear that words, as they always had, died in the back of his throat. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times, before stretching his arms down to his knees and breathing in raggedly and hard.

"Beth I..." He trailed, raising a hand to drag it over his face, "I can't do shit the way I been doin' it. Not anymore. It ain't workin'."

Beth felt her eyebrows knit together on their own accord. "You can't do what, Daryl? I don't know what the hell that's even supposed to mean."

That fearful look crossed over his face again, and she fought hard against the way the look tugged at her heart painfully.

"I ain't no good with shit like this Beth. You and me? Us?. I ain't never had nothin' like this and? Merle and my old man- They-."

Beth felt herself snap, cutting him off before he could finish; "You stop right there." She said, a finger reaching out and jabbing in his direction. "I _know_ that you're not comparing you and I to _them_." She felt her face grow hot, and her eyes burn with the unshed tears. "I ain't your brother. And I sure as _hell_ ain't your daddy. Don't you _dare_ put us in the same category as them, Daryl Dixon."

Daryl looked like a kicked puppy, and rightfully so. Beth couldn't recall ever raising her voice with Daryl, and she wasn't sure she really even wanted to. He looked more ashamed though, above all else. Like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. She just knew deep down that he knew what he'd done was wrong. But that just wasn't enough for her. She had to hear the words, she deserved to hear the words.

"That's the thing, Beth!" He shouted, and Beth jumped a little at the raise in his volume, following him with her eyes as he shot up out of the couch and began to pace furiously.

"Y'ain't a damn thing like them at all! You're good and pure and all the damn things in this world that are too good for someone like me. You're-. _You_. And you shouldn't love someone like me."

Beth stood as well, stopping his pacing with her body as she stood in front of him, grabbing the scruff of his beard and twisting it in her fingers, forcing him to look into her eyes.

"You don't get to decide who I love Daryl, and you don't get to decide what I deserve. I do." She said, yanking a little bit at the hair between her fingers, ignoring his wince at her motion.

"You're right. I do love you. And everything I said tonight? I meant it. And I get that you're scared, Jesus, Daryl, I'm scared too! But you don't get to do what you did." She walked forward, effectively walking his back into the door of the dressing room. He winced again as his head made impact briefly against the door behind him.

"You wanna talk about what I deserve Daryl? Huh? Well, how about we talk about what I don't deserve instead because I sure as hell didn't deserve what you did to me! You don't get to fuck me, and then leave me. You don't get to run away on me. You don't get to do that, not to me."

He looked as though he was going to cry. And it hurt, seeing him that way. She didn't want to make him upset, didn't want to make him cry and get him worked up but she simply couldn't help it. All the pent up frustration she'd had for him since he'd left came to the surface the second she realized that he was here. And it only got worse the more that his responses angered her more than she thought possible.

"You didn't deserve that, Beth." He replied, his voice weak and heartbroken as it ever could be. "Nobody does, the least of all you."

"Daryl, I-" She dropped her grip on the scruff of his beard, feeling defeated for a moment as his hands hung loosely at his sides, and his gaze stared at the ground near her feet. "I gave myself to you because I thought you loved me."

Her hands twiddled with her fingers as she dropped her own gaze to them. Not knowing how much longer she could keep up this facade of being so tough and angry.

She was caught off guard as both of his rough hands grabbed the sides of her face, and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly to will herself not to completely break down and cry. It felt right, his hands touching her face so strongly and yet so gently at the same time. She knew if she looked at him in the eyes, she'd give up, and she'd lose it.

"Beth, look at me." He said, his voice begging her. She looked at the man in front of her finally, unable to help the tears that fell from her eyes as Daryl leaned forward to get level with her, wiping the tears with the pads of his thumbs.

"I ain't never known anythin' but to run, Beth. I ain't had nothin' this good and you're right, it scares the absolute fuck outta me. _You_ scare the fuck outta me. I ain't ever even been this scared when my old man would come home hollerin' and screamin', piss ass drunk and just itchin' to lay his hands on me. And that might not make no sense to you but it's the god damn truth."

Beth stared into his eyes, seeing that beneath this hard and tough looking man was what Daryl really was at the very core of him. Petrified. And not just petrified of love and acceptance because it was something so foreign to him - he was more scared of her than he probably was of anything else he'd ever come across in his entire life.

"I'm so sorry, Beth." He said, "I don't have an excuse for what I did, and I wouldn't blame you if you never forgave my pathetic ass but you gotta know something."

Daryl grabbed her hand and tugged her back over to the chair she'd been sitting in, as he kneeled down in front of her, his eyes fierce and stern, yet full of love and endearment. Something so touching and raw, and something she'd never seen in anyone's eyes before and was almost positive she never would with anybody else.

"What you said out there tonight, how- how I saved your life," he chuckled a little bit, shaking his head at himself. "You don't even know girl. You saved my life, Beth."

Beth blinked, because she didn't really understand until he made another grumbling noise, forcing words out of his mouth through clenched teeth.

"I was on a one way ticket to dyin', Beth." His voice cracked, and he reached to grip her hands in his almost painfully tight. "I didn't give a shit about no one, nothin', least of all me. And I don't even know if I'd be here today if not for you, woman. And I don't know how to explain it but, Beth. You saved my life."

The way he said the words he had, struck her like a blow to the chest. The unrelenting sound that she had just known that he believed what he had said more than anything he had in his life. She didn't think that she could love Daryl any more than she already did, until those words passed his lips and he reached up to grab her face between his hands again.

"I love you, Beth. Don't _ever_ fucking question that."


	18. Alright By Me

**A/N: I'm so sorry this took longer than expected. I had a heinous case of writers block with this, and I care about this story too much to put up a chapter that doesn't feel right. So I worked on it until it felt perfect. And it does.**

**Thank god.**

**So there's one more chapter guys and that's it. I'm gonna cry! I've loved this story so much and it just breaks my heart :( idk man, this shits hard. I feel like I'm dealing with a breakup**

**FOUR MORE DAYS UNTIL TWD RETURNS HOLY FUCK.**

**I can't even deal right now. My whole body, mind &amp; soul is like the walking dead 24/7 it's interfering with my everyday life.**

**I need help.**

**Alright also, smut warning for this chapter. I have this thing for when Daryl was holding Judith in season three and he's all "you like that sweetheart?" But in a totally different context if you catch my drift... Yeah.. I'm just gonna leave this here...**

**Love y'all!**

**-Stephanie**

* * *

_How to Save a Life_

_Chapter Eighteen - "Alright By Me"_

* * *

_"You're turning thirty tomorrow, right?" Carol asked him, standing off to the side of her car that Daryl was working on, replacing the battery that had somehow managed to die out front of the bar._

_He grunted in response, shrugging his shoulders a little bit at her question. Truthfully, he knew it was his birthday, it fell on the same day as Sophia's coincidentally, but he didn't really care all that much one way or another about it. That was just it - it was just his birthday. The marking of the passing of another year in his life. It didn't matter anymore to him than it had to anyone else he'd known in his life._

_Except for Carol perhaps. Being that she was probably the only friend he'd ever had in his entire life. She kept tabs on him usually, and it pissed him off from time to time but today he just wasn't in the mood to be a complete dick._

_"Don't shrug it off, Daryl, thirty is an important birthday." She said, sitting down on the curb next to him._

_They were outside of the bar, and the sun had finally began to make it's decent; to which Daryl was thankful because that meant the sun wouldn't be beating on him as he leaned underneath the hood._

_"Yeah," he grumbled, slamming the hood down as he shoved his rag into his back pocket, cigarette dangling out the side of his mouth as he spoke, "says who?"_

_She scoffed, and Daryl watched as she ran her fingers through her greying hair, shaking her head at him lightheartedly._

_"You mean to tell me you haven't thought of one single thing you'd wanna do on your birthday?"_

_"Nah."_

_Daryl walked over to open the car, revving the engine a few times, leaning back into the seat of her car, wiping the sweat off of his brow with the back of his arm. He wanted to go home, it'd been a long fucking day and he really wasn't in the mood to argue with Carol about something he knew didn't matter none to nobody. The least of all himself._

_Just another year, following Merle around, working at the shop, doing absolutely nothing with his meaningless existence as he always had. That's all his birthday ever did, and ever would mean._

_Carol appeared at the side of the door, clearly unwilling to end the conversation they were having, or letting Daryl off without a response like he'd secretly been hoping that she would._

_"Ain't a national damn holiday," he grumbled, using the steering wheel for leverage as he hauled himself up and out of the car, handing carol her keys that she took back from him with a cursory glance. "Probably gonna end up working and takin' my ass the hell home 'fore Merle gets any ideas about draggin' my ass somewhere I don't wanna go."_

_"What, you mean like a strip club or something?" She asked with a smirk on her face._

_Daryl inwardly cringed at the thought of him being dragged to Atlanta by Merle's inebriated ass, likely towards some trashy and poorly lit strip joint. He could already picture the stupid grin that would be on his face while he did so, too._

_It would be something that Merle would do. Or at least that he would try to do._

_"Ain't goin' to no damn strip club." He grumbled back, stuffing one hand into the pocket of his jeans as his other drifted to the cigarette he'd placed behind his ear earlier, lighting it with one hand and leaning his body against the car._

_"Might do you good, is all." Carol replied to his gruffness with her own nonchalant tone. "I can't remember the last time I've seen you with a woman, at least not lately."_

_Daryl chuckled darkly, slightly amused at her commentary, and slightly aggravated by the insinuation behind her words. If it were anyone else, he probably would've told them to fuck off by that point, but it was Carol. He knew she was probably just fucking with him anyhow._

_"Just cause I don't flaunt that shit like Merle does don't mean I don't get my share." He said after another moment, earning a raised brow from Carol in response._

_"Just sayin'. Sides, strippers don't make the best girlfriends, I would think."_

_"Daryl Dixon with a girlfriend." Carol replied, tapping her finger to her lips with an amused look on her face, "that'd be the day."_

_He laughed at that._

_"Yeah, that'd be the day."_

* * *

"Alright, how about I make a toast." She said, her blue diamond eyes sparkling down at him from the table in front of him where she was sitting, swinging her legs back and forth underneath it with a bright smile across her face.

He fought for words that he could say in response to her, he'd heard what she'd said, but he was too caught up in the way she looked. Gone was the yellow dress worn at her concert only a few hours ago, replaced with a tight fitting silk black dress that all but took his breath away every single time he looked at her.

He loved seeing her this way, happier than ever, her smile wider than he'd seen in a while, and her eyes showing him a love that he never knew he'd ever get the chance to see or experience in his life.

"Alright." He said, leaning back into the chair and lacing his fingers behind his head. Her smile brightened even further as he gave her the go ahead with a nod.

She placed her small fingers around the thin neck of the champagne glass, raising it out towards him and flicking her eyes to his own glass in front of him. He wasn't a fan of that particular alcohol, it was bubbly and a little too sweet for his liking, but he didn't really mind all that much. He was in Beth's hotel room, and he was the happiest he'd been in a long time. Not to mention, he had a pretty decent buzz from the shit, so he appeased her by raising the glass up towards hers.

"To us." She said, clinking her glass rim onto his, watching the bubbles rise to the surface at the motion. "And To the awful Georgia weather that brought us together."

Daryl smirked at her, keeping her gaze locked upon his as he raised the glass to his lips in time with her. Drinking the sweet liquid slowly as she did the same.

She reached out for him with the hand not holding the champagne glass, and he grabbed it within his own, lacing their fingers together and holding the grip tightly in his own. He didn't know how in the hell he'd ended up so lucky. To have such a pure hearted and golden woman that loved him more than anything in the world. She looked at him like he put the stars in the sky for her, and it was something that took his breath away time and time again.

"That song that ya played tonight," Daryl said quietly, keeping his eyes on their entwined fingers, rubbing her finger with the end of his thumb. "I liked it. It was beautiful, Beth."

She didn't say anything at first, and he suddenly snapped his eyes up to hers in an irrational fear that he'd stepped over some invisible line in the sand. That he'd said to much and made her feel uncomfortable.

But she wasn't looking at him with anything other than affection when his eyes met hers. She was smiling still, smiling that smile that made his heart beat faster and slower at the same damn time. That smile he'd missed like hell lately, the one he'd once feared he'd never get to see again in anything other than pictures.

She tugged on his hand, gesturing for him to stand up and get closer to her, and he was like putty in her hands. He stood, placing the glass on the table and making his way over to her, standing between her legs and placing his hands on her hips.

She looked up at him as she brushed a few strands of his hair away from his eyes, letting her fingers trail lightly down the side of his face and stopping cradling his jaw.

"I love you, Daryl." She whispered to him, her big eyes flicking from his down to his lips a few times.

She leaned in, placing her lips to his cheek, moving closer with chaste small kisses until she reached his lips, slanting her head slightly to move her lips over his gently.

He felt his desire for her welling up inside him as he kissed her - it was a powerful thing. He was taken back every single time she touched him, and it was something he was absolutely certain he would never get used to, and he'd never tire of.

Above all, he couldn't believe he was getting to be here with her like this again. He didn't know why she had chosen him, didn't figure he ever would understand it, but he was here with her now and that was more than enough for him. He meant to make her his. He was overtaken then by such a powerful force that it almost took his breath away.

He slid his hands lower and lower, the rough of his fingers dragging on the black fabric of her dress as he went, finally resting on the hem of her dress that had crept up even further on her creamy white thighs.

Her tongue teased his and she sucked his bottom lip between her teeth and bit down ever so slightly and he drew in a sharp breath at the response his body had - an electric shock that he felt from the top of his head all the way down to the ends of toes.

Something inside of him snapped in that moment. A possessive force took over his entire body and he knew that he had to have her. And he had to have her right now.

His fingers acted like they weren't attached to anything other than the most basic part of his brain, all want, all need, driven by an unseen force that he needed to make her his, only his. No one else's.

He looked up at her, making certain that he was not pushing things too far but the desire he saw reflected back in her eyes was unmistakable, pupils blown wide and her lids drawn down so low she looked nearly as mindless with want as he felt.

With a growl he didn't even know he possessed, he moved his lips down to her collarbone and spread hungry open-mouthed kisses over the tender flesh there, flicking his tongue out and dragging it across the raised bone over her chest, his eyes fluttering as her skin erupted into goosebumps underneath the warmth of his tongue.

With another audible growl that he was unable to force down, he pushed her dress up her thighs roughly, and she instinctively lifted her hips off the table so he could shove it up around her waist, bunching the fabric up around her body.

"Spread your legs for me, Sweetheart." She let out a high pitched whine at his request and spread her legs a little bit wider around their place locked over his hip bones, but it wasn't enough for him. Didn't think that he'd ever get enough of the angel in front of him.

"Wider." He demanded, gripping her knee and jerking her open wider and feeling that same jolt of arousal as she let out a moan at his forcefulness. He locked eyes with her and he ran his palm up the inside of her thigh, seeking her heat. He slipped one finger under the slip of fabric covering her, watching as her eyes rolled backwards and she leaned back onto her hands, trying to find some sort of support on the table underneath her body. He let out a groan himself when he felt how wet she was.

"So wet." He said gruffly. She moaned in response as he slid his finger all the way into her pussy. "That all for me, girl?"

She nodded violently in an attempt at a response just as he brought his finger back out and circled her clit achingly slow and pulled back to watch her writhe beneath his fingers.

"You like that?" He said, moving his finger in and out of her as he leaned down and clasped the shell of her ear between his teeth. "You like that, sweetheart?"

She reached up and gripped one of his shoulders, letting out a loud moan that vibrated against the material of his shirt. "Yeah, you do."

He was overcome again and he pulled his finger back out of her, hearing her whimper as he did so. He looked straight into her eyes, watching her chest rise and fall in front of him as he slid his finger into his mouth, tasting her again, closing his eyes as he lost himself for a moment. He wanted to taste her completely, just as he had that first time that they'd been together, but that would have to wait until a later time. Right now, he had one thing on his mind; and that was burying himself all the way to the hilt of her. To make her scream out his name, and know without a shadow of a doubt that there never would be another man to touch her like this, to feel her the way he was about to.

"I need you." Beth's voice was sultry, smoky almost, so unlike the voice she used while speaking or even while singing.

"Need more than that, girl." He chuckled at the whine of frustration that escaped her lips and brushed against the skin of his neck. He made a mental note to tease her more often, because it was one hell of a turn on.

"What do you need, Beth? Ya gotta tell me. I ain't a mind reader." He growled leaning down, whispering it in her ear even as he pressed his lips to her neck, suckling softly. He knew what she wanted, but he wanted to hear her say it. Needed to hear her beg for him, needed to know that she was aching for him as much as he was for her.

"I need you inside me." She whined, watching as she placed her hand over herself and underneath the cloth of her underwear, watching as her knuckle that was pressed against the fabric moved in tiny circles as she worked herself in front of his eyes. He closed his eyes and groaned at the sight, If he'd thought he was about to lose his mind before, he had definitely been mistaken. Watching her take control of her own pleasure and rock against her own hand as he watched her, he felt like he was going to lose it before he even removed himself from his pants.

Beth's request was all he needed. He stood back slightly and moved his hands to his waist, undoing his belt and then unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, shoving them down just far enough to free his throbbing cock. He took his length in his hand, fisting himself a couple of times before guiding himself to her dripping wet center. He used his other hand to move her panties to the side, exposing her glistening folds to his hungry gaze. She bucked her hips up to meet him as he slid himself inside, both of them groaning at the long awaited contact.

He braced his arms on the table on either side of her and felt her hands come up to find purchase on his chest. She gripped his shirt with both hands and threw her head back. Squirming back and forth, pushing him away and pulling him back towards her over and over again, almost as though it was too much and yet not quite enough at the same time.

He loved seeing her like this; completely lost and writhing as he hovered over her, staring deep into her almost completely blackened eyes.

"Daryl," she said breathlessly, reaching up with one hand to grip his chin, forcing him to pay attention to her words, "fuck me."

He pulled his hips back roughly and thrust himself inside of her harder than before, feeling like he was going to lose his damn mind every time he bottomed out inside of her. You'd never know it, that she was as wild as she was being with him during sex, and he was fine to keep it that way. He never wanted anyone to have her the way that he was having her right now, eyes screwed shut and body moving beyond her control, his pace unrelenting as he claimed her for his own.

"You're mine, Beth. Ya hear me?" He ground out, "_Mine_." He growled it in her ear as he pumped himself in and out of her, fucking her right into the goddamn table.

She nodded again, but this time that wasn't enough for him. He reared back and gripped her hair at the base of her skull, yanking her head backwards and making her look at him as he continued to fuck her. "Uh uh," he said, tugging at her blonde hair a little more. "I wanna hear you say it, tell me"

"I'm yours." She breathed back at him, "Daryl, only yours."

Her hips were writhing rhythmically with each thrust of his hips and she was nearly mindless with want. He leaned back to watch himself go in and out of her and it nearly made him come immediately at seeing his dick slide in and out of her folds.

He reached down and rubbed his thumb over her clit and she nearly came up off the table, jumping at the sudden and unexpected contact. He reached up with his other hand and held her hip down to the table, circling his thumb over and over again and he felt her walls clench around him. She looked positively exquisite coming apart underneath him and he couldn't hold out any longer, feeling himself fall over that precipice, giving himself over to his release, pulsing in and out, every muscle and nerve in his body jumping, twitching and contracting all at once, like lightning in his veins. He slowed his movements, giving a few final jerking movements of his hips, spiraling after her and remaining still, until he rested his forehead against hers.

* * *

"I think it makes you sound _mysterious_." She said, smiling up at him from her position where his shoulder met his neck. He toyed with her hair between his fingers as she giggled a little bit at his lack of response, the vibration of it rumbling through his body.

"Probably cause they ain't figured out who the hell I am." He said, gesturing a hand at the television at the foot of the bed they were lying on, watching some stupid news outlet that was featuring a story about Beth and her mystery man, as they had called it.

He wasn't entirely sure why she even insisted on watching it when he'd been flipping through the channels with her, she got unreasonably excited and just about snatched the remote out of his hands when she squeaked at him.

He didn't really want to watch it, especially because there definitely was going to be something regarding himself in the story. But she wanted to watch it, and so he'd let her.

Because, well, let's face it; Daryl Dixon would do just about anything that Beth Greene asked. Ten times over, at the very least.

"Yet." She insisted, reaching her hand that had been splayed across his abdomen to lace their fingers together, leaning up to press a kiss to the scruff of his beard at the end of his jaw. He chuckled a little bit, nudging her with the shoulder her head was on top of.

"You really want people knowin' who I am?" He asked, genuinely interested in her answer because he was almost positive she wouldn't have wanted anyone to know. And not that he would blame her; he had already assumed that much from the beginning of all of this.

"Of course." She said, nestling her head back onto him, and he felt her smile against his skin as she spoke. "I want the whole world to know that you're mine. That you're my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend, huh?" He said teasingly, looking down at her as best as he could with her still tucked neatly into him. She nodded against him, and he smiled at the thought.

"Yeah, boyfriend." She said. "Is that alright by you?"

"Yeah," he said quietly, "that's quite alright by me."


	19. You Save Me

**A/N: LONG AUTHORS NOTE, SORRY :(**

**First and foremost, please accept my sincerest apologies for the incredibly inexcusable delay on this chapter update. This took way way way way WAY too long to do, and I'll explain why.**

**My brain has been non-stop unable to write any of my AU fics because all I've wanted to write are cannon one-shots, and stuff like that. This season of The Walking Dead is going to be the complete and utter death of me considering the amount of crying and sobbing and uncontrollable emotions I've felt since the season premiere. Which by the way, we're only four episodes into the season. I'm not going to make it.**

**Not to mention – The other issue was, and is, that this story is – to put it simply – my baby. It was the most successful story I've ever wrote, and it was the one that I always loved writing since the beginning, day in and day out. You guys' unwavering support of this story is something that I appreciate more than words can say. And I thank you all, and will continue to thank you all, every single day.**

**That being said; I'm pretty sure my inspiration for completing this finally is due to the fact that last Saturday I FUCKING MET NORMAN REEDUS. Like, IN PERSON. HE PLAYED PATTY CAKE WITH ME. HE HUGGED ME AND I HELD THE SIDE OF HIS FACE. (More like squished it to mine really hard I wouldn't be surprised if it was painful) I CANT MAKE THIS SHIT UP PEOPLE. IT WAS GLORIOUS. I couldn't form a coherent sentence for a good three hours afterwards. And if we're being honest here – I'm still a complete fucking mess.**

**Honestly, he's the sweetest, dorkiest, most genuine individual I've met – and I loved every minute of it.**

**Follow me on Tumblr if you haven't already ( YourMem0ryTrain ) – I have slew of one-shots I'll be uploading there and here in the next couple of days. As well as a brand new AU story. (a prompt from my love Ashley/Akiraflame – where daryl and beth's children hate each other. I'm very, very excited about it)**

**Song credit for this chapter - "You Save Me" - Kenny Chesney**

**So here she is. The next, and final chapter of How to Save a Life. I hope you've enjoyed reading this just as much as I've enjoyed writing it. So, without further ado...**

**Until next time.**

**Love y'all from the very bottom of my heart.**

**-Stephanie**

* * *

_How to Save a Life_

_Chapter Nineteen - "You Save Me"_

* * *

Each year when the summer rolls around into the Town of Riverdale Georgia, one could argue that the heat from the sun in the sky at high noon would make just about anyone think that they were about to lose their minds.

And when that summer heat did in fact roll around, usually during the last weeks of July, it brought equally horrendous thunderstorms to the small town right along with it. Any resident there could attest that nine times out of ten, should you have gotten the chance to ask them. And out of few people that lived in that said town, one Daryl Dixon, was no exception to that.

That particular individual, in fact, the last known living member of the Dixon family, only known to those of the community as Daryl the mechanic or Daryl 'that Merle guy's brother', would tell you the exact same thing. That is of course, if you managed to bring yourself to engage in conversation with the surly, usually closed-off and somewhat angry looking individual.

He'd tell you how the heat from the sun sometimes became unbearable as he bent himself underneath the hood of a car. He'd tell you how during those few months of summer, it was rare to come home at the end of the day without a searing sunburn on the back of his neck.

So yes, should you have asked Daryl Dixon about the weather or anything else about the town, he'd say that it was the same way it had always been.

Summers in the small town started out the same as they always did for most residents. Six-thirty alarm clocks would blare before the sun would rise, bacon would sear on a cooktop just before the elementary school children bounded their way out the door and into the school bus waiting at the end of the street, and Daryl Dixon would arrive at Merle's Auto Garage just as the clock struck nine AM.

Today, though, was different.

It was an eerie feeling, but a relaxing and comfortable one all the same, and that feeling he had lasted long into the day, even as the hours progressed.

He supposed it was because the scene was a little too familiar, or maybe it was because the scorching heat flowing through the open windows of his truck was much like it had been that one afternoon. That one afternoon a year ago to that very day.

"Daryl Dixon, so help me god, you better tell me where you're takin' me right this second."

Daryl smirked over at a disgruntled looking Beth in his passenger seat.

He knew she had no idea where he was taking her, probably because he knew the town of Riverdale a hell of a lot better than she ever would. He'd lived in that town for so long that he knew every single back road, every single side street, every single short cut.

Besides that, he was pretty sure she wouldn't recognize where he was taking her in the light of that hot summer day. That very afternoon exactly a year ago had been very different, the sky had been a dark shade of gray and rain had beaten down upon the town heavily all afternoon.

This day, appropriately, the sun was shining. Beaming through the rearview mirror and making him pretty glad that he'd snatched up his sunglasses before leaving his cabin with his girl in tow.

It was around four in the afternoon, on a Friday. It was around the time that last year he'd be closing up the bays at his brother's garage, packing up his shit and headed for the bar.

It was around the time that he'd begin drinking himself into oblivion, sitting by himself at the cherry colored bar-top, barely listening to Carol try and talk to him as he spiraled down the path of no return farther and farther. He shook his head at the memory.

He wasn't sure how he'd done it - convinced Maggie against her better judgment to let Beth stay with him at his home for a week. Truthfully, he would have been fine anywhere with her. Because anywhere with her was home.

"I told ya," he replied, sneaking a glance over his arm propped over the steering wheel to look over at her. "'S a surprise."

"Better be a good one." She grumbled, smiling beside herself. "'Cause as much as I love your truck, I had other plans for tonight."

His ears perked up at that, catching his eyes upon hers, seeing that all too familiar glint of mischief in her eyes. He shook his head at her and chuckled a little bit, he wasn't about to let her distract him. Not this time. Not when he had plans like he did today.

He turned another corner, pulling off to the side of the road and shifting the gear into park. Beth looked around for a moment, seeming to survey her surroundings to try and figure out where she was, but she still looked confused.

"C'mon." He said, sliding out of the truck and shutting the door of his old truck with a loud creak, sliding around to meet her on the other side, and not wasting any time twining their fingers together as they walked through the now tall and thick grass.

"You're not bringing me out here to kill me, are you?" She laughed half-heartedly through her sentence, so quietly Daryl almost thought that she was being serious for a second. He turned to look at her as she lifted her small legs up and down through the grass, her cowboy boots now wet from the water on the blades of it.

He snorted when he caught the half smirk on her face, squeezing her hand a little tighter. "C'mon, just a little further."

This year though, at least for Daryl, was completely different in every single imaginable aspect.

If you'd have asked him any line of questions about his life at this time a year ago, it was likely that the answer you would have gotten from him would be a hell of a lot different than the one he'd give you now.

And that was because this year, at nine-thirty in the morning on a Friday at the end of the month of July, Daryl was somewhere he never thought he would be; Laying in his bed, curled up behind the first, and likely only woman he'd ever love.

How he'd gotten so lucky, he didn't have a god damn clue.

He wasn't entirely sure how he'd ended up here, now that he was thinking about it; trudging through the too tall grass towards the edge of the creek that he had passed over on that bridge so many times over the past years of living in that small town. Not entirely sure what in the hell he'd done to deserve the woman who's hand was tightly clasped into his own.

And for what it was worth, he was done asking questions about it; Questioning whether he deserved to be there, or whether he deserved to have her as his own. She'd made it clear back in her dressing room that first day back with her in New York City – and truthfully, as much as he still didn't think he was worth what she thought he was – she was right. Who in the hell was he to decide for her what she didn't or did deserve? At the end of the day, no matter what the fuck he thought or what the hell it was that he believed, it wasn't his call. It was hers.

And he'd be damned if he were to question that again. He wouldn't dare even look back towards that deep dark place that still resided somewhere inside of him. Wouldn't even mention it, or think about it, at least as much as he could manage to. The last thing in the world that he'd ever do, ever again, was tread over that unseen line in the sand, and make her run the hell away. He knew that was what he deserved, but he wouldn't dare provoke it.

Because in all honesty, without her, without Beth Greene, he didn't think that he'd survive.

It was the halting of Beth's footsteps that caused him to stir away from his current thought process.

It felt surreal; how all of this had come together. Watching her as her eyes shifted their focus from the creek just ahead of them, and over through the surrounding area. He could see it in her eyes the second that she finally realized just exactly where they were. That they were at the very place that they had first met, a year ago to that exact day.

"Daryl." She said quietly. So quietly, that he was sure that if he hadn't been paying such close attention to every single thing that she was doing, he would have missed his name being spoken entirely. Her hand tightened its grip on his own, tighter than she ever had gripped it, close to the way she had when her hand had first come into contact with his forearm when she had been trapped in that car. He winced at the memory, but squeezed her hand back just as tightly.

"You found me here." She said quietly, turning her head to the side and upwards to face him. She smiled at him sweetly, and Daryl couldn't help but notice how glassy her eyes looked. Whether it was out of love and adoration, or she had truly gotten upset over this, he wasn't sure. He was hoping the former rather than the latter.

"Mhm." He mumbled out quietly, easing himself down to the ground and tugging her down to sit with him. Just as she managed to start to bend her knees to join him, he guided her with his hands on her hips to sit between his legs, crossing his arms over her stomach just as she leaned back into his front.

Beth sighed loudly, relaxing herself into Daryl's form a little more and placing her hands over his where they rested on her abdomen, her head laying just underneath the stretch of bones on his right shoulder. She turned her head slightly, placing her lips onto the rough stubble etched across the side of his face to kiss the skin there gently.

"I love you". She said after a moment, directly into his ear. Something that she knew got to him, made his insides feel strangled and made his heart feel like it was about to jump straight out of his chest. Made his blood run south, and made his fingers itch to touch her in absolutely every single way imaginable. Made his thoughts cloudy, made his palms clammy, made his voice deep and hoarse, made him forget how to breathe.

"I love you, Beth. I ain't no good at this anniversary shit – don't really know what the hell I'm doin' here."

"I think you're doing just fine." She said back, her lips still close to his skin near his ear. He swore that he could feel her lips curling into a smile through her response.

"I didn't – I couldn't- couldn't think of nothin' else. Nothin' felt right but this. You and me." he motioned with his free hand that wasn't still over Beth's abdomen, flicking it back and forth between the two of them. "You and me, here at this place."

"When I played with Kenny the other night," she began.

"Kenny who?" He asked, interrupting her mid sentence.

"Chesney." She completed, earning a scoff that rumbled through his chest at the thought of it. Casually talking about someone he'd heard on the radio for years like they were an old friend of hers. It was odd in that way, because really, she knew all of those people – the people that were on television screens and plastered onto billboards all over the world. The thought of it though, wasn't something he thought he'd ever get used to

"Anyway," she said, a giggle emanating through her words that made his lips curl into a smile against her shoulder he was leaning onto. "He played this song, one of his older ones." She reached a hand back and placed her hand onto the back of his skull, fingering her way through the long darkened locks of hair at the crown of his head gently.

"Made me think of you. Made me think of us."

"Will you sing it for me, Beth?" He asked quietly, nudging his nose through the tresses of her blonde hair to make his way towards the soft skin of her neck, rubbing against the cool skin with the top of his nose gently. He was almost ashamed of the question, in a way. Sounding like he was begging to hear her.

It was selfish, really. But it was something he needed, almost as much as he needed her.

And it wasn't like he never got to hear her sing – he always got to hear it. Whether she was cooking in his kitchen, singing along to a song on the radio, playing at one of her venues, or recording in the studio while he stood behind the glass watching her in awe. But he wanted her to sing to him, like she had that first night. To sing not just to a crowd of people, or to the people that she had to sing for.

To sing for him, and for him alone.

And amidst his thoughts about the request, Beth obliged, still scratching lightly at his scalp with her small fingers, the vibration of her voice humming straight through her and into him from where her back was against his.

_"When I'm a ship tossed around on the waves, up on a high-wire that's ready to break, when I've had just about all I can take, baby, you-"_

"Baby, you save me." Daryl completed, speaking the finality of the song that he'd known from the radio a few years ago that she was singing. Speaking not only the words of the song, but speaking the truth about her. About himself and the woman in front of him.

The truth about Beth Greene and Daryl Dixon.

And she smiled, turning her head ever so slightly to look at him in the eyes with that look of complete adoration on her face for him. A look that he still thought, and knew, that he didn't deserve. A look that said everything that he ever needed to know all at once. The look he'd never seen on anyone else in his entire life, let alone another woman. The look that he just knew was for him, and only him.

Tentatively, Daryl pressed his lips to hers, kissing her with every single fiber of his being and his soul, kissing her for everything that she was, and everything that she wasn't, and didn't need to be. It was a feather light touch of lips joining together - not heated or aggressive, or gentle if he really thought about it. But it didn't need to be. It was perfect in every single sense of the word, and for all he knew, it was the only thing that ever mattered, or ever would matter.

Because whether she chose to believe it or not, it didn't matter. She saved him. Saved him in the way that only Beth Greene could. Saved him from spiraling even farther down that dark tunnel, and losing everything that he was. Pulled him back from the edge, and did what nobody else in this world could have ever done.

She saved him. And she was still here.

And in that moment, sitting next to the very creek he'd first met her by, that was the only thing that mattered.

He may have not been able to save Merle, or his mother, or himself. And for the longest time, he thought that he'd been a lost cause a very long time ago. But none of that mattered, because even though he didn't, Beth Greene knew how to save a life.

And more importantly than anything else; _she_ knew how to save _his_.


End file.
