Daryl and Beth come to the unspoken agreement to sleep naked.
They fall into the pattern sometime after Beth’s—and Morgan’s for a short time being—return to the group, and to Daryl. Their strange behaviour is noted by the people closest to the pair, how Daryl and Beth seem to dance around each other, seesawing between blindingly happy—on Beth’s part—and a constantly irritated, if not dangerously close to affectionate side-eye—on Daryl’s part. An undeniable connection bound the two together—cemented since the night they got piss-drunk on moonshine and burnt that shabby old cabin—and the shadow of it memories—to the ground.
Carol watches how Daryl’s gaze tracks Beth’s every move when he thinks she isn’t watching, nervously chewing on the pad of his thumb out of habit. Maggie watches how her sister’s hand lingers on Daryl’s, or how she pokes him gently in the side after making a good-natured joke. They don’t seem to touch out of necessity, more out of the simple need to feel the body of person that doesn’t belong to them. And the whole group, even Rick—who is oblivious to almost anything that regards the something there between his left-hand man and the girl who came back a woman—notices when Daryl hands Beth his crossbow with a grunt and motions her to track the path of the deer they’re hunting, entrusting her with his beloved weapon and the chance to eat something rather than twigs and berries at dinner.
It is clear to them that after the prison fell something grew and took root, a tether winding the two broken and lost souls together. Because Beth is stronger in Daryl’s presence—she is self-reliant and willing to hunt and fight, his knife strapped to her side like it was made for that exact purpose. And Daryl is somewhat softer in Beth’s presence, speaking in words instead of nonchalant huffs of air and growls, even laying a dirty blanket over a corpse in some form of respect. He is considerate and somewhat kind, and she is determined and resourceful—words no one thought they would ever use to describe Daryl Dixon or Beth Greene.
They are good for each other, the two stronger as a unit rather than individuals, both in the physical and emotional sense.
Maggie confides in Beth one night and asks her what exactly is going on between her and Daryl Dixon. Carol does the same. She subtly mentions his change in character returning from a hunt, a catch of squirrels hanging on their shoulders, rigid carcasses banging against their sides with every stride.
Beth looks at Maggie in response, her heart shining in her eyes.
Daryl stares straight ahead, glancing fleetingly at Carol in obvious contemplation.
And they both confess their feelings, separately, but their answers near identical.
Beth says: “I like him, Maggie. He saved me after Daddy died. He taught me how to hunt, how to survive the pain, the hurt, all of it.”
And Daryl says: “I wasn’ right in the head after the prison fell and she . . . she was the last lil’ glimmer of hope in a dark, dark world.”
Both their replies are quickly followed with the same admission: they’re scared, scared of losing one another in a time and place where that sort of thing was commonplace.
YOU ARE READING
Skin Contact
FanfictionDaryl and Beth don't so much as begin to love one another but fall into it, like soul mates separated for a millennia finally reunited, and they learn each others stories by reading the marks on their skin.
