A/N: I really wanted to make this chapter longer but I realized it had been nearly a week since I updated. So hopefully this will hold you guys over for a bit. :)

Enjoy and as always, thanks so much for reading and commenting!

The wound on Daryl's thigh was healing fine; he wasn't keeping it bandaged anymore even though he was sure it could rip open at any time, but that was a risk he was willing to take. It was easily hidden, nobody ever saw his legs anyway, rarely even Merle. Merle, his dumbass brother who didn't know when he was in way over his head, who dragged him out of bed in the middle of the night to pick him up because he couldn't keep his buddies in line. Daryl tried to talk some sense into him; he knew the Chinese kid had supposedly screwed Merle over somehow but was it really worth all the trouble he was going to? Evidently the older Dixon thought so and made a point to say that if Daryl thought a little gash on his leg was bad, he was a "bigger pansy-ass 'lil bitch" than he thought and he was in for "a fucking rude awakening". For once, there was no trace of sarcasm in his brother's voice so Daryl didn't push the issue. Even if Merle wasn't too beat up anymore, something was really scaring him pretty bad.

Daryl's hand was another story. The bruising had faded into yellowy, green splotches all over his knuckles and the back of his hand. Nobody really questioned it, except Carl of course, who was ever the curious pain in the ass. While he's not a great fibber, Daryl managed to sate the boy with an elaborate story involving defending a woman at a bar from her jackass boyfriend. Badass enough for Carl to enjoy but still a good deed, right? Teaching a nice lesson. Daryl thought so anyway.

He had promised the kid that he would show him how to use a circular saw today; he debated whether it was a good idea or not since he hadn't run it by Rick but damn, the kid was thirteen now and he wasn't an idiot. Plus Daryl would be right there just in case things got out of control and he somehow was about to slice off his entire arm.

Things were pretty quiet that day, Carl was weirdly quiet. He seemed focused on the work that Daryl was showing him (maybe because he had promised him a cut of his pay if he did alright), so when he finally spoke up about something that wasn't pertained to their actual project, Daryl was taken aback a little.

"Your dad teach you how to do this stuff?" Carl inquired innocently enough, as Daryl moved the boy's hands so he was properly supporting the lumber he was about to cut.

"Naw." He knew his short answer wouldn't satisfy the kid but he wasn't sure how to elaborate.

"Your brother?" Daryl didn't talk about Merle much but he had come up in passing; Carl knew he had an older brother and that the two lived together, and he knew that his mother had died too. He didn't know any of his family's darker matters, for which Daryl was grateful, because a boy his age, mature or not, didn't really need to know that stuff.

"Yeah right, Merle's about as good with tools as you are at Mario Kart." For that comment, Daryl got a hard glare, which only made him laugh out. He steadied Carl's hands and helped him slice through the wood with ease, earning a grin from the Grimes boy.

"Who taught you, then?" Daryl shrugged, blowing off the sawdust and watching as Carl followed suit, even if there wasn't much left to get rid of.

"Just kinda taught myself, I guess. Picked up stuff along the way. So be thankful ya got a mentor in me," he pointed out, pulling the tape measure from the tool belt slung around his hips. He handed it to the boy and watched as he measured the piece they just cut.

"When are you gonna let me do this on my own?"

"Wax on, wax off." Carl gave him a confused look, clearly not knowing what he was referring to, and only got a toothy grin in return.

Daryl had made a habit of being at the library the past few days. Since he had run into B. Greene again, he found himself wanting an excuse to be around her and while it was futile and, honestly, pretty awful of him to help her hunt down a journal that he knew was nowhere to be found in the building, it was as good of an excuse as any.

What he had first found annoying about her, he now found intriguing. She spoke with him with such ease, even though she knew next to nothing about him. He knew far more about her, not that she was aware of that, and he could rarely bring himself to start any conversation on his own. It was in the back of his mind that he might slip up and mention something that he wasn't supposed to know about her, so that was reason enough to let her steer the conversations.

He had found himself in the multimedia section though it seemed silly because if her journal was somewhere misplaced in the building (it was at his apartment, tucked safely away in his desk drawer), it wouldn't be with movies or CDs. But he pretended to look around anyway.

The girl had wandered off on her own and when Daryl was finished pointlessly searching the shelves he was facing, he went to find her. It took him a few moments but he spotted a flash of her blonde hair back by the comic books, which didn't make much sense to him. She had seemingly stopped her perusing and was flipping through a comic idly. Not wanting to spook her, he spoke up as soon as he was in earshot. "Any luck?" She didn't answer and he took that as a no, pulling open another drawer and letting his eyes pretend to roam over the rows of colorful issues.

"You like comics?" she finally asked and he couldn't help but snort. She laughed a little too, shrugging her shoulders. "Guess that was a dumb question. You don't strike me as the comic book type."

"Don't go pegging me as something or another. I like superheroes just fine." She looked over at him with an incredulous expression. "What? Know a kid who's really into them, he's rubbed off on me." He almost mentioned Carl by name but he remembered how closely he and B. Greene actually were connected, and now didn't seem like the right moment to spring that on her.

"Yeah? Me too. I like the Superman movies. And I always think of that song." Her face got this far away look on it, as if she was trying to transport herself back to another time, a certain moment.

"Which song?"

"The, um... Superman never made any money saving the world from Solomon Grundy. And sometimes I despair the world will never see another man, like him..." she sang, pink tinting her cheeks as she glanced over at Daryl from the corner of her eye.

Daryl was caught off guard by her voice; it matched her in its prettiness and soft nature, the way it tugged up on the corners of his lips. He tried to bite back his smile, suddenly feeling self-conscious about his reaction, so instead he just nodded, even if though he wasn't familiar with it at all. "'cept he's no man."

"What do you mean?"

"He's not a man, he's an alien."

"Well, yeah, but he was still a better man than a lot of people. Like the song says, he held down a real job, he could've done whatever he wanted but he used his powers and skills for good. He was selfless and humble... that's a real hero." Daryl thought back on her words, the ones she had written down some time ago and he had read without her knowing. She admitted to wanting to be a hero herself, she wanted to better the lives of other people. His mind drifted to Rick and Carl and little Judy; he shifted back and forth on his feet.

"Don't know the song," Daryl admitted, staring at the comics in front of him but not really processing what any of them said. Not that it mattered, he wasn't going to find her journal there anyway.

"That's a shame, it's real good." She paused for a second and Daryl took that as a cue for them to get back to work with their quest, but she was quick to speak up again. "I don't even know your name and yet you're helping me now, you've been helping me the past few days." Something in Daryl's chest constricted and he feared the worst; she somehow knew he had her journal, she knew all along but she was drawing it out to see if he would confess and come clean. "I'm Beth." She held out her hand to him and he must've stared at it like she was diseased because her bright face fell a bit when their eyes locked.

"Daryl." He left it at that, ignoring her hand altogether as he focused his attention back on the drawers in front of him. Beth Greene. It was weird how a name could fit a face and a person so well, even if he hardly knew her. Beth seemed very fitting. It was simple and feminine, but not overly so. It went with her laugh, what little of it he had heard. And when he realized he was thinking far too much about her, about her name, he clenched his jaw.

"Well, thank you for your help, Daryl. Sorry I was rude to you before, it was uncalled for." He found it somewhat humorous that she was the one apologizing but all he did was grunt in reply, sneaking a look over at her only when he could feel her blue eyes burning holes into him. Her hair was pulled back in two buns, all messy and frizzy, short blonde wisps curling out and away. Beth smiled at him, so genuinely that he almost forgot what an ass he was. "You heard of Mazzy Star?" Daryl shook his head and before he could get a word in (though it wouldn't have been more than just that), she was babbling on as she flipped through the stack of comics in her hands. He didn't really mind listening to her talk, though.

It was the sixth day straight she had visited the library, searching every shelf and drawer and crevice of the colossal building for her lost journal. She hadn't realized how big the place actually was until scouring every inch of it was her mission; it was nice having some help though, even if she still wasn't clear on why Daryl was helping her. She was surprised how quickly she became comfortable around him, not hearing him sneak up on her as she was zoned in on a row of biographies, only to jump and laugh in relief when she recognized him. Even the staff had grown used to them, to both of them together, the woman at the information desk pointing out his location to Beth when she had shown up later than usual the other day. It was strange but somehow nice to have a routine, even if she knew next to nothing about the man helping her.

She knew she owed him for all his help and wasting all sorts of time with her search, but thinking of a proper way to show it was more difficult than she had imagined. A mixtape seemed like an alright idea, given that they had talked a bit about music and seemed to have very different taste; Soundgarden and Butthole Surfers were two bands she knew very little about, which he had no problem harping on her for. It worried her that it was too high schooler hey-go-to-prom-with-me? and that he would laugh in her face or worse, pull the totally disgruntled look he had worn the first few times they had interacted, which made her feel like a complete annoyance. But she was brave, or at least attempting to be, and spending hours the night before deliberating on which of her favorite songs to record onto cassette for him seemed very personal and sincere.

They only had the Children's section to finish up but Beth had to be on her way to meet Maggie and Glenn for dinner. Daryl shrugged and without a goodbye (he never said goodbye to her), he turned to head off. But before he could get too far, she reached out and gingerly grabbed his arm.

"Um, so, I know I've thanked you at least a dozen times and you probably think I'm super annoying at this point but really, thanks for your help. You don't have to waste your time helping me out but you do, and that really means a lot to me," she all but rambled on, earning a raised eyebrow from Daryl which made her face seem suddenly very warm.

"Like Superman?" It took her a second to understand his reference but once she did, her nerves settled a bit and she let out an airy laugh.

"Yeah, you're just like Superman." Even he grinned a little at that and Beth couldn't help but notice how handsome he was when there was a flicker of happiness on his face. "But um, I made you this. As a thank you. Well, another way to say thank you." Digging through her tiny backpack, she pulled out the tape case and held it out for him. Daryl plucked it out of her fingers and read the label with squinted eyes. "I don't think we're gonna find my journal, if we haven't by now."

"No sense in losing faith now, might as well see it through." He pocketed the tape in his jacket before giving her a nod and sauntering off, leaving Beth to let out the sigh she had been holding in. She hated how he sometimes made her face burn and stomach swirl.

When Daryl made it home, he was relieved to find he had the apartment to himself. He had sat in the library parking lot for a good ten minutes, debating on listening to the tape Beth had given him then and there in his truck but for whatever reason, putting it in the player was too nerve-wracking. He had never really received a gift before, especially one as personal as a mixtape. He knew what went into making them and the thought of her taking the time to put one together for him ate away at his insides. She was being so good, so kind, and he was nothing but a liar.

Alone in his room, he finally built up the nerve and put the tape into his small, beat to all hell boombox. The first song that came on was one he didn't know; it was upbeat and while he didn't recognize the actual song, he knew the voice. Everyone knew the sound of the Gallagher brothers and Oasis. It wasn't typically something he would listen to but he figured that was the point. It was very B. Greene. Very Beth.

It was odd how badly he wanted to get to know her; he supposed that's why he was so inexplicably drawn to reading her thoughts, even when the guilt was gnawing away at him. He wished he could do it in person, hold normal conversations and learn all about her through her own voice, but he had no clue how to really go about that. And knowing she thought so highly of him, that he was such a great guy for helping her when he didn't have to, it almost made him sick. He had dug himself the hole he was lying in. The least he could do was return the thing to her, finally, even if it would be difficult or awkward or end in him getting slapped. He just had to figure out what was the best way to go about it, the best way for her and hopefully the best way for him.

A/N: I have been working on a soundtrack for this story and I plan on posting it to my tumblr soon! Feel free to talk to me on there as well as here; I'm swiftasdeer on there. :)