VI. Crash

"My father was just in here."

"Yeah, so what?" Daryl then turned his back to her, stacking clean glasses beneath the counter. "Didn't you hear what I said last time? You ain't allowed in here."

"But my dad-"

"He came in, grabbed a drink, and left," he cut her off, not even bothering to look up from his task.

"Only one drink?" An unfamiliar emotion swelled within her chest, and for the first time since she could remember, she wanted to cry for a reason other than utter desolation.

"That's what I said, ain't it?" He grumbled, "Swear I'm gonna have to hire security to keep little girls out."

She blinked, quickly feeling her joy being overtaken by anger. From the very start, Daryl had done nothing but dismiss and belittle her. How dare he try to rob her of her first shred of happiness in years with his unnecessary attitude?

"Little girl? Are you kidding me? You're the one who has done nothing but act like a child since I first stepped foot in here," she snapped. "I tried to approach you like an adult, tried to explain to you about my daddy, but you wouldn't even let me get a word in edgewise."

"Well, looks like you ain't need my help, anyway. Looks like your daddy got it all under control now." His dark eyes focused on her, but rather than appear smug and condescending like she expected, they were blank.

He was hiding something.

And there was just something about his words that made her pause. Something that made it seem like he had something to prove. Something that made her think he was trying to convince her.

Something that made her realize he was feigning innocence.

And the longer she contemplated it, the more she could feel her grin faltering, realizing that her suspicion was more than likely a reality. "It was you, wasn't it?"

"Oh, just what in the hell are you on about now?" He was a good liar, she had to admit. If she hadn't had so much practice in the art of deciphering the truth, he probably could have convinced her of his ignorance.

But if there was one thing she could thank Hershel for, it was the fact that she would never be taken for a fool again. Or, at least not without knowing the full truth beforehand. She supposed her decisions made even after being fully aware of all the lies didn't exactly paint her in the most intelligent light, but she no longer went into things blind.

"You're the one who stopped him, aren't you?" She glared at him, "Go ahead, lie to me. Lie and tell the innocent little girl that it was all my daddy's decision not to drink. Tell me that you didn't have anything to do with it."

He turned his back to her again, focusing on storing his glassware with much more care than she knew would be usual, fully intent on ignoring her until she went away.

"Answer me!" She snapped, but still received no response. She could feel her face growing hot, both from anger and embarrassment. She knew what Daryl thought, knew that he assumed she was just a silly little girl wishing on a falling star destined to smash into the earth at an obliterating force, shattering into a million unrecognizable pieces.

But she wasn't that girl anymore and she would be damned if anyone thought she was.

She marched behind the counter, snatching the glass out of his hand. He glared at her, but she refused to let him speak and spew anymore lies, "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me the truth. You can have security remove me, or you can even remove me yourself, but I'll just come back every single day until you tell me the truth. Why don't you just make this easier for the both of us and tell me what really happened?"

His eyes hardened, glancing at the ground for a split second before maintaining his stance. She almost feared he was going to remain silent, but he finally cleared his throat, "Was what you wanted anyway, wasn't it? You wanted me to stop selling to your paw, so I did."

"But I…" She bit her lip, not even knowing what she was trying to say.

But I thought things were finally changing.

But I was finally gaining faith that I had long ago lost.

But I can't keep saving someone who can't save himself.

But I've lost everything and I can't keep doing this. Any of this.

In an effort to distract herself from the impending tears, she absentmindedly plucked at the metal studs lining the bar. "I lied; I don't have enough money to pay you for his drinks. I'm not sure why I ever said I did."

He shrugged, as if the thought had never even crossed his mind, "It's fine."

"What about your brother? Won't he be mad?"

"Merle don't come in until after dark, most days. Your daddy should be long gone by then." He scratched at his unruly locks, making them stick out even more in disarray. Beth bit her lip to contain her giggle, finding amusement in the fact the intimidating man before her slightly mimicked a plucked chicken.

When he cut her a narrowed glance, she simmered, "This is your business, though. I should pay you in compensation…"

"It's fine," he repeated.

"Fine," she echoed, mollified when his face soured at her childish behavior.

The ensuing silence that surrounded them was uncomfortable to say the least. There were so many questions that she wanted to ask, but she knew that she would only get a vague response at best. Daryl was a bizarre man, that was for sure. She couldn't fathom why a guy who obviously held such disdain for her would bother granting her any favors, especially without receiving anything in return.

"You didn't... you didn't tell him I was spying, did you?" She really hoped that however Daryl had managed to convince her father to only buy one beer, he hadn't mentioned her name. It would absolutely crush her dad if he realized that his daughter no longer trusted him.

After losing Maggie, Beth knew her father couldn't take losing her too.

"No, I didn't." He stared at her a few more moments before finally relenting, huffing as if he would rather be at the dentist undergoing a root canal than standing here with a measly little girl, "Told him new bar rules don't let us sell more than two beers to customers 'til after five. Don't know if he really believed me, but he ain't fight me on it."

"Yeah, he's not really a fighter until after he's had about a twelve-pack." It was meant to be a joke, but the words sounded harsh and empty even to her ears.

"He hits you?" His words startled her, his accompanying glower completely catching her off guard. Beth had quickly concluded that Daryl was a naturally brooding man, but this was different. Though he tried to keep his face trained, she could sense his thinly veiled fury seething beneath the surface, fists balled at his sides. She wondered if his palms would need stiches the way he dug his nails into his flesh.

"What?" Beth blinked in confusion, "No, of course not. I just meant that it takes a lot for his anger to take over. And even then, it's never on woman, especially not his own daughter. My dad's quite the pacifist."

"Good," he bit. "Monsters like that don't get no redemption."

"I…" And in an effort not to let the awkward silence consume them, she squeaked, "Thank you?"

His anger gave way to confusion, the furious slits in his eyes lessening to peer at her. If she didn't know any better, she would say he was curious. "For what?"

"Well, I… I guess I'm not used to people asking me stuff like that." She hated how ridiculous her words sounded in her ears, so she clarified, "I just mean that people usually always assume everything's okay because I'm perfect, little Beth Greene. And, I mean I'm not saying that everything isn't okay, because it definitely is, but it's just nice to have someone actually ask instead of just assuming."

And somehow, Daryl seemed as if he understood her rambling better than she did herself. He released a grim chuckle, and with a start, Beth realized it was the first time he had expressed an emotion besides dismay. "You snuck into a bar in the middle of the night and tried to bribe a bartender with money you don't even have. I think it's safe to say everything ain't okay."

And despite everything, Beth found herself smiling in return.