Chapter Text
Daryl’s head swam in the combined haze of the morphine and his fever, vaguely aware that something about his current situation wasn’t right, that something was off, but he was simply too high to care, or to know the difference between dream and reality. In the midst of his stupor he was partially cognizant of a pleasantly familiar voice, someone he couldn’t quite picture or place, but wanted to. He tried to parse it out as it echoed in his head, grasping inflections and tone, but not the words themselves. He weakly tried to open his eyes, but his lids felt like they were made of lead, his body refusing to cooperate under the strain of the drugs and fever. Lost to them, his mind willingly slid back into darkness, comfortably numb as he receded.
-
Beth laid curled into Daryl’s right side, her head on his shoulder as she worried the buttons on his worn plaid shirt. She was tired after the nights mentally taxing events, exhausted if she was being honest, but she couldn’t find the will to sleep, too anxious over Daryl’s condition to do so. As she looked to his face and brushed his temple with her thumb, she spoke softly.
“You know what this reminds me of? That movie with Sandra Bullock, the one where the guy she pinin’ after falls into a coma and everyone thinks she’s his fiancé.”
Beth chuckled as she remembered the ring on her finger, admiring it for a moment before continuing.
“Well, except for the fact that I actually am your fiancé.”
She sighed sadly when he didn’t respond, not surprised, but disheartened regardless. She gasped suddenly, remembering her mothers wedding dress in the attic of the main house. Hopeful that at least a part of him might be able to hear her, she told him about it.
“I know we don’t have a preacher or witnesses, but there is a white dress in the attic.”
She paused, fondly remembering trying it on as a young child, when it was so large on her that it dragged on the floor and the sleeves hung past her hands. Smiling, she described it to him.
“It was my Mama’s. It’s not the fanciest, it doesn’t have a train or a veil or anythin’, but she made it herself. It’s white, well, of course it’s white, but it’s t length with this pretty floral lace all over, a big flower at the waist, and the skirt poofs out real nice.”
She paused again, looking at him when she spoke next.
“And when you wake up, I’ll show it to you.”
She leaned in to murmur softly, gentle and yet insistent.
“So you’ve gotta wake up. As a matter of fact, that’s an order, Mr. Dixon.”
As she ran her fingers through his hair she watched his eyes dart back and forth beneath his eyelids, a glimmer of consciousness that gave her a small amount of hope that he was still in there somewhere. Encouraged by it and hopeful that her voice would help pull him out of it, she continued, telling him more about the farm.
“I don’t know if you remember, but there are apple trees here. I haven’t checked yet, but the Granny Smiths should be ripe right about now.”
She smiled as she recalled more pleasant memories from her childhood.
“We used to make pies with them, though me and Mama were the only ones that liked the ones we made in the fall. Everyone else liked the pies made from the Carolina Red Junes, those are sweeter, and they’re ripe in the summer.”
Beth giggled as she said next.
“Why do I get the feeling you’d make fun of me for that if you could?”
She sighed softly. She would be willing to do just about anything to hear him tease her right now. Trying to stay positive, she eyed his saline bag, of which he’d drained about half, telling him so.
“You’ve downed about half of your first round of antibiotics, and the fluids should help you feel better too. I’d bet anythin’ you were dehydrated with that fever.”
She pressed her hand to his forehead, pleased at the less extreme temperature.
“You’re still warm, but you’re not as hot as you were.”
She paused, stifling a giggle before adding.
“Actually, you’re exactly as hot as the first day I saw you.”
Knowing he’d roll his eyes and dispute her statement if he was awake, she answered as if he had.
“You know what I thought that first day? When you led the rest’a the group to the farm?”
She paused, knowing he wouldn’t respond but giving him the chance to regardless.
“I thought ‘That guy looks like he could throw me over his shoulder and show me who’s boss.”
She laughed at herself, confessing sheepishly.
“I still can’t believe Jimmy didn’t notice, pretty sure my jaw was on the floor.”
Tone becoming more genuine, she mused to him.
“If you couldn’t tell, I really do love the way you look.”
She ran her fingers over the muscles of his left arm, commenting softly.
“I love your arms, they’re so strong and solid, especially when they hold me, makes me feel so safe…”
She raised her hand to cup his face, thumb brushing through his stubble fondly.
“I love your beard and how it tickles my face when you kiss me… somethin’ about it just drives me nuts in the best way…”
She lowered her thumb to trace the thin line of his lips, murmuring.
“And well…I think you already know how I feel about your lips…”
Entranced by him even as he lay dormant, Beth leaned in close, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to his lips, processing the strangeness of not being immediately kissed back as she told him more.
“I could kiss you every minute of every day I have left on this earth, and it still wouldn’t be enough...”
She paused, getting choked up at the thought of the possibility of never making love to him again.
“And well…there are other parts of you that just leave me speechless…”
She ran her fingers over his right hand, commenting dreamily.
“…take my breath away…”
She briefly considered touching the more suggestive area of his body that she was alluding to, but as she watched him, still and silent as ever, she thought better of it, not wanting to do anything of that nature while he had no means to either give or refuse consent. Finishing her thought, she continued.
“Well anyway, I think you get the idea.”
She chuckled before adding.
“I’m pretty much obsessed with you at this point.”
Predicting what he might have said in response, she filled in the blank.
“And then you would’ve said somethin’ like ‘You’re obsessed with an old fart.’ And I would have agreed, but I’d say you’re my old fart, which is all I really care about.”
Remembering some of the comments her parents had told her they’d received early in their relationship, Beth told Daryl about their experience.
“Did you know Mama and Daddy were more than twenty years apart? They got so much grief for it in the beginning, he was fifty three and she was thirty two. Her parents, my grandparents, nearly had a cow when she brought him home, said he was ‘robbin’ the cradle’ and everythin’ else, but after a few months they warmed up to him. Saw that he was a good man with a good heart who would treat her right.”
She paused to rub Daryl’s cheek with her thumb as she whispered.
“Just like you.”
Love in her eyes as she gazed down at him, she declared softly..
“Other than my Daddy, I think you’re the best man I’ve ever met.”
She just marveled at him for a moment, knowing he would try to brush off the compliment if he were able.
“And I know you don’t think that’s true, but you’re just..good. Through and through you’re good, and sometimes it just blows my mind that you can’t seem to see it.”
Wanting him to hear the words she was saying but aware that he had no way to escape them if he didn’t want to, Beth concluded her speech.
“I’ll quit n’ get off my soapbox, but I’ll end with this. You are loved, Daryl, so much and by so many, and by no one more than me.”
She kissed his cheek, soft, slow and lingering, laying her head on his shoulder as she snuggled into him, comforted by the presence of his body even if his mind was elsewhere. She stayed there for some time, mulling over in her head what needed to be done next. The house was a wreck, and though she longed to right things and clean up the mess, she didn’t feel comfortable leaving Daryl in his present condition, not for that long. No, there were more pressing matters, like continuing his antibiotics and securing food and water. The apple trees were just down the road, near what had been Patricia and Otis’s home, which was close enough to walk to. Making a plan as the sun began to rise and the birds began to sing outside, Beth decided to first check the manual pump nearest to them, the one between the barns and the cow pasture. Reluctant to leave the comforting warmth of Daryl’s presence, she propped herself up on an elbow, telling him the plan on the off chance he could hear her.
“Here’s what I’m thinkin’. First, I’ll get us some water, hopefully the pump outside is still in good shape. You’re gonna need to drink a lot when you wake up, flush that infection out so your body can heal itself.”
Just as she finished her sentence her stomach growled loudly, making her chuckle as she told him more.
“By the time I get done with that, it’ll be about time for your next round of meds. After I set them up and I’ll go get us some apples to eat.”
Beth looked to Cyclopes, smiling at her as she spoke.
“I’ll get some for you too, girlie.”
Cyclops panted contentedly, her tongue lolling out as Beth looked back and forth between her and Rosie, who was still sat perched on the highest shelf.
“You think you two can hold the fort? Keep an eye on him for me till I get back?”
Though she didn’t respond with words, Cyclops’s ears perked up, understanding that she was being spoken to as Beth sat herself up, sitting on the edge of the bed with Daryl’s hand in hers. She spoke softly, caressing the back of his hand with her thumbs.
“Do go anywhere, I don’t want you hurtin’ yourself, doctor’s orders.”
His eyes moved subtly beneath their lids, making her sigh in sadness that he was still mostly unresponsive, but holding onto hope regardless. After kissing the back of his hand and gently laying it to rest against his belly, Beth stood, stretching with a yawn before double checking her knife and gun. As she walked out of the cat room Cyclops followed her, trotting along behind as Beth protested lightheartedly.
“I thought you were gonna babysit?”
Cyclops sat down in front of Beth, expression hopeful as Beth grinned down at her.
“I guess you have been pretty cooped up the last couple a days. You want to come with?”
Cyclops stood and wagged her tail happily, prompting Beth to return to the cat room and speak to Rosie, who was still sat on the highest perch.
“You’re in charge, girlie.”
Rosie blinked slowly in response, an affectionate gesture that eased Beth’s mind enough to get a move on, unlocking the barn doors and stepping through them with Cyclopes.
It was early, just after dawn, everything dim and still as Beth fastened the doors and made her way to the pump, pulling her flannel around her more snuggly in the chilly morning air. She couldn’t find it for a moment, hidden away by the tall grass that had almost completely reclaimed the dirt path, but after a few exploratory kicks, the rubber bottom of her boot hit the worn metal of the pump. She pulled the grass and weeds away, flattening a small clearing with her boots before inspecting the fading red paint of the handle, which looked like it hadn’t been used in years. She grasped it as Cyclopes sniffed around curiously, trying to pull it up for several moments before it actually moved, requiring all of her strength. It squeaked loudly in the process, stiff and corroded, but the more she worked it, the easier it became to pump. She gained speed, pleased when she heard the telltale gurgling in the pipe, and after nearly a minute of labor, rust colored water poured from the spout. She kept it up, working through the water that had been sitting stagnant in the pipe until it came out clear, exclaiming happily as she cupped her hands in the stream.
“Hell yeah.”
She splashed her face with the water, refreshed and relieved as Cyclopes lapped at the last few dribbles that poured out.
”Let’s refill the bottles, and I think I saw a bucket in the back of the barn, we’ll fill that too.”
Beth peaked into the cat room as she walked by, Daryl and Rosie just as she’d left them as she grabbed a five gallon bucket from the back of the barn, returning to collect the bottles that had been emptied. She inspected Daryl closely, hopefully looking for any hint that he’d moved while she was gone, but when she found none, she returned to the pump with a sigh, working it strenuously until both the bucket and bottles were full. She lugged them into the barn, pouring a bowl and setting it on the floor for the animals before standing at Daryl’s side, disconnecting the emptied saline bag and preparing a new one. After injecting his second dose of antibiotics inside, she hooked it up, opening the clamp that controlled the flow to speed it up. When she was satisfied she sat at his side again, suddenly quite nervous to leave him for a farther destination.
She weighed the pros and cons. They’d been eating nothing but expired canned foods and whatever they could hunt for weeks now, the combination upsetting both of their stomachs on more than one occasion. The thought of eating something fresh and crisp was mouth watering, but what if he woke while she was gone? He wouldn’t know where he was or how he’d gotten there, something she knew would deeply unsettle him, but on the other hand, the quality of what they’d been eating had been consistently poor for an extended period of time, not helping his chances of pulling through the infection. He needed the nutrients that the apples had. Giving him one last chance to show her he was there, she squeezed his hand tightly, pleading.
“C’mon baby, give me somethin’…”
He stirred briefly, but only to take in a large breath, stilling after he exhaled, unconscious. Beth sighed, conflicted. More likely than not, he wouldn’t wake, but even if he did he wouldn’t get far. They needed real food, and it was only a ten minute walk away. Making her choice, she spoke softly to him.
“I’ll be right back, I’m going to get us some food. I won’t be gone long.”
After holding his hand to cup her face for a tender moment, she stood, still second guessing herself, but she ultimately stuck to the plan, closing the door behind herself and Cyclops as they set off down what was left of the path to Patricia and Otis’s house.
-
The swirling dark that Daryl was held captive by cleared for a brief moment, vaguely aware of someone squeezing his hand and speaking to him, but they faded just as soon as they’d appeared, his mind sinking back down into the unsettling haze of his dream, back on the bare mattress on the floor of his childhood bedroom.
He hadn’t moved since the pills had kicked in, afraid that the spell of the blissful feeling that had washed over him might be broken if he did, but to his disappointment, it was starting to do just that, the shimmering feeling of safety and contentedness leaving him as the minutes ticked by. The pain of the wounds on his back was returning, his skin itchy and his nerves feeling exposed as he groaned quietly in pain. Merle had left about an hour ago, off to some girl’s house that Daryl didn’t remember the name of, where he would likely stay for at least the next few hours. Feeling uncharacteristically defiant, Daryl eyed the wooden panel that hid Merle’s box of drugs, weighing the pros and cons of what he was considering.
Merle had specifically told him not to mess with them, and under most circumstances, Daryl would obey an order like this without question for fear of his brother’s wrath, but the feeling he’d just experienced, the high that had eased his pain and soothed his soul was making him reckless, rebellious even. He wanted that feeling back, and for it to never leave him again, but what about when Merle came back? He knew his brother could be cruel, maybe not quite to their father’s level, but enough to give Daryl pause. He was already in bad shape as it was, another beating might very well do him in for good. He sighed as he turned his head away from the panel, trying to put it and the pills from his mind.
-
Beth walked briskly with Cyclops at her side, rounding the last bend as Otis and Patricia’s house came into view, a modest home with yellow siding and white shudders. She knew they needed the apples, but her anxiety about leaving Daryl alone was consuming her thoughts, making her walk even faster as the fruit laden trees around the back came into view. She removed her backpack as she waded through the overgrown grass, standing on her tiptoes to pick the bright green apples, thrilled by how many there were. After hastily filing her backpack, Beth looked to the single story home, briefly considering searching it for things they might need, but that inexplicable sense of dread was still gnawing at her, urging her to hurry back. Resolving to do it at a later time, she urged Cyclops.
“C’mon girlie, let’s go.”
-
Daryl’s mind was in a bewildering state, confusingly fading back and forth between dream and reality. At this particular moment, he was in an unfamiliar room, warm from a fire at his side and dimly lit by the dawn light peeking in through the window coverings, cat hair covering just about every surface. He looked around, knowing someone had been with him but unable to remember who, confused when he saw the IV in his arm. Immediately distrusting and over exerting himself in the process, he ripped it out of his skin, trying to sit up and failing as the scene changed around him, suddenly finding himself back on the mattress of his childhood bedroom, eyes fixed on the loose wooden panel.
He felt horrible, in pain and afraid as he willed himself to stay where he was and leave the pills alone, but his body longed for them, to feel the bliss, ease the pain, and feel the sense of safety again. Crying as he did so, he crawled across the floor, over garbage and feces as he dragged his little body towards the wall. Once there he struggled with it, pulling it aside with great difficulty until it revealed the wooden box. Eyes blurred with tears, he opened it, finding a handful of bottles and little baggies inside. Shoulders shaking with silent sobs, he hastily opened them one at a time, relieved when he found the little blue pills in the last one. He planned to down them all, but the scene around him changed again, morphing back into the unfamiliar room as he looked around in a daze, blood dripping down his arm. Spying a prescription bottle at the bedside and thinking it was the same one from his dream, Daryl reached for it, trying to open the cap with labored breaths as he heard a noise outside the room, like the creek of metal doors being closed. Thinking it was Merle in his stupor, he fumbled with the bottle, desperately trying to bring it to his lips before his brother could stop him as Beth opened the door.
As she swung the door open Beth quickly took in the sight before her, screaming when she saw the bottle of Norco in Daryl’s hands.
“Oh my go- No!”
She smacked the bottle away from his face and out of his hand, sending it flying as she noticed the blood streaming down his arm, mortified. As Cyclops barked at the commotion, Daryl was inconsolable, hiding his face with his hands as he cowered, begging who he thought was his brother not to hurt him.
“‘M sorry! Please don’, please Merle!”
Beth covered her mouth in horror, heart breaking for him as she realized he was still trapped in his nightmare. She moved slowly and deliberately as she sat on the bed at his side, trying not to frighten him more as he sobbed, something she’d never seen him do before. The anguished sounds shook her to her core, making it hard for her to focus as she tried to think of a way to help him. Unsure of what else to do, she reached for him, gently placing her hand on his shoulder and squeezing softly when he winced from the contact, reassuring him.
“Shhh it’s okay…”
Daryl was shaking, terrified of more pain as Beth soothed him.
“It’s alright, you’re safe…”
Though Daryl was still straddling the barrier between nightmare and truth, the sound of Beth’s voice was reaching him, the feel of her touch imparting a subtle feeling of safety as he dared to look up from behind his hands. Knowing that the memory he’d been reliving earlier was from when he was a child, Beth spoke to him as such, slowly moving closer as she murmured comfortingly.
“I know you’re scared, but I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you baby, anyone.”
Mind still walking the line between dream and reality, he spoke fearfully.
“But Merle- Merle said-“
Beth cut him off, angry at someone who was no longer around to receive it.
“Never mind what Merle said, he’s gone. I sent him away.”
Daryl paused with tears in his eyes, still unsure of who exactly he was speaking to, but somewhat comforted by her presence as he questioned her, still fearful of his brother.
“He- he ain’ gonna come back n’ wup me?”
Beth moved even closer as she shook her head, discreetly clamping the still flowing saline line before taking his blood stained hands in both of hers, promising him.
“He’s never gonna do that again, no one is. I won’t let them.”
He shuddered out a shaky breath as his face crumpled, tears of both relief and overwhelm flowing down his cheeks. Sensing he needed to be comforted, to feel safe and secure in a physical way, she moved up the bed to sit at his side, guiding his head to rest against her chest as he curled into the embrace. He cried as she cradled the back of his head, rubbing his back as she soothed him gently, like she would have with a toddler.
“Shhh baby…I’ve got you, you’re safe…”
His arms wound around her middle, clinging to her like his life depended on it as she continued to hold him close, giving him all the time he needed for a sense of calm to settle in his body and mind. Out of habit, Beth began to hum the song her mother used to sing to her what she was upset, a gentle rendition of You Are My Sunshine that soothed him further. It took time, but after many minutes of tears and gentle support, Daryl began to calm down, his muscles relaxing as his breaths became slow and even. Not wanting to rush him, Beth waited until he’d been quiet for several minutes before asking softly.
“Can I take a look at your arm? You still need to take your meds so your foot can feel better.”
Daryl gently pulled back to look at her, his fever transforming Beth into someone else as he asked timidly.
“Ma?”
For a moment Beth didn’t know how to respond. She was keenly aware that his mother hadn’t been a good parent, and that she was neglectful and apathetic towards her sons in ways that had twisted and warped Daryl’s personality, a fact that made her blood boil. She briefly considered playing the role, to nod and say yes, and be kind to him instead, to try and rewrite his mother’s wrongs in a way that would bring him peace, but what if it backfired and he was fearful of her instead? What if saying yes sent him spiraling like he had when she first walked in? It wasn’t a risk she could justify taking, and as he gazed up at her with his childlike expression, she made her choice, shaking her head gently.
“I’m not your Mama. She’s not here either, but my name’s Beth. I’m gonna look after you for a little bit.”
She watched Daryl process this, and he seemed to accept it even though he didn’t appear to fully recognize her for who she was, but he lost focus when Cyclops hopped up on the bed and jostled his foot, making him yelp in pain. Beth shooed her away, back to the floor before sitting at Daryl’s side again, heart aching as he spoke quietly, repeating his earlier statement.
“Hurts.”
Beth chewed her lip as she grimaced, heart aching for him as she eyed the bottle of pain meds that had landed at the foot of the bed. She cursed herself for leaving them within his reach, slowly coming to terms with the fact that if he’d been successful in opening them, he very well might have overdosed and died. Thoroughly shaken by this fact, she forced herself to focus on the present, grabbing the bottle of pills and shaking two of them into her palm. After grabbing a bottle of water and stowing both the bottle of Norco and the vial of morphine in the pockets of her cargo pants, she held her hands out to him.
“Here, take these for me, they’ll help your foot quit hurtin’.”
His demeanor shifted abruptly. Suddenly he was hungry, possessive as he hastily grabbed the pills and swallowed them as fast as he could. Remembering how frightened he’d been of her earlier, well, not of her, of Merle when she’d first walked in, she started to connect the dots, concluding that he must have been the one to introduce his little brother to meds like these. Equal parts pissed and curious, she wondered about what his intentions might have been, if he was trying to ease Daryl’s pain, or just trying to get him high, supposing it didn’t really matter at the end of the day. Whatever Merle’s reasoning, he’d sent Daryl down a destructive path that haunted him to this day, and as she looked him in the eyes, visibly anxious as he impatiently waited for the good feeling to return, she understood that she would have to be vigilant with the remaining painkillers. Running out of steam, Daryl shifted onto his side as Beth watched, abruptly making her remember the antibiotics he needed to be receiving. Leaning down to grab a new IV kit from the floor, she spoke to him gently.
“I’m gonna get your medicine set up, it’ll fight the germs that’re makin’ your foot hurt.”
Tired after all that he’d endured, Daryl just nodded sleepily, not protesting when she grabbed a rag and wetted it to clean the tacky dried blood from his arm. When she’d removed all but the stains that lingered on his clothes and the quilt, she selected another promising looking vein, donning her gloves and cleaning the area with the included alcohol wipe, warning him when she was ready to begin.
“You’re gonna feel a little pinch, but I need you to try’n stay still for me, here we go. One, two, three.”
He let out a short groan, grimacing at the sharp sensation, but otherwise stayed still, making it easier for Beth to effectively place the catheter. When blood returned through the line she exhaled in relief, removing the needle as she secured everything with a protective adhesive patch, afterwards removing the section of used IV tubing that had previously been in his arm. He was nodding off by the time the line had been flushed and he was reconnected to the bag, in a better place than he had been, but still very much out of it, enough to make Beth anxious as she sat at his side on the edge of the bed. She watched him for a moment, observing the tension leave his face as he slipped into unconsciousness, calm for now, but she was still worried, and afraid that it wouldn’t last, especially if his mind was still compromised by the fever when the calming effect of the pills wore off. Nervous for what might lie ahead, she racked her brain, trying to think of a safe, secure place to stow the drugs where Daryl wouldn’t think to look, willing to do whatever she had to to keep him from making another impulsive mistake like the one she’d walked in on only half an hour ago. Tired, but still nowhere near being able to sleep, she laid at his side, resting her head against his shoulder as she dared to hope that his condition might improve.