I don't know how to apologize for my absence from FF. I've had the worst case of writer's block I've ever had. I simply couldn't make anything work until I came across the song, "This Burning House" by Cam. And this was born.

For my Fairy Tail fans, don't despair. I'm not done with my other stories. I just needed a little break. I promise I'll be back at it soon. In the meantime, I hope you'll enjoy this Walking Dead Story. And if you don't watch it, I highly recommend you start. It's incredible.

In Dreams

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

He doesn't sleep. He never really has, just catches an hour or two every now and then, just enough to get by. Too much on his mind maybe. Or maybe it's that he's not comfortable sleeping around other people.

But these days, all he wants to do is sleep.

He's avoiding it, pretending she ain't gone. He's not stupid. He knows what he's doing, and he knows just how fucking pathetic it is. But he can't stop hoping she'll be there when he sleeps, because if she's not, then she's nowhere. And he can't stand that.

For him, this was it. The only place he could find her, talk to her, and it was all in his own mind. The world was moving on, his friends were moving on, but he can't. He doesn't want to. Cause if he moves on, then it'll be like she never existed at all. And he'll be damned if he lets that happen.

So he holds on, counts down the time till he can crawl into his own corner of whatever building they're holed up in for the night and waits for her to come.

Some nights it's just the two of them back in that old church with Beth playing that shit piano and singing him to sleep. Sometimes, they're back on that porch and Beth's reminding that he's going to miss her when she's gone. Sometimes, he's forced to watch her die over and over again. And sometimes, in those rare moments when he's lucky, he dreams of them living a life together. A real one with no walkers, no fucked up world with people always trying to kill them.

But tonight is something else. Tonight, they're back in that rat hole house that reminds him of his rotten childhood, and Beth's tipping her head at him with that little knowing smile on her face, the one that said she knew just what he was thinking. And for a second, everything's perfect. It doesn't matter that the house is falling apart around them or that they're sitting in trash. Nothing matters because they're together again.

And then, out of the corner of his eye, he spots the first hint of red. He's confused at first, not sure what's going on, but it takes only a moment to realize that the house is on fire. He leaps to his feet, his hand already outstretched for hers, but she just sits there, her lips still curved in that soft smile.

"I can't, Daryl," she says.

He waves his hand at her forcefully. "C'mon Beth! We have to go!"

"I can't go with you. You know that."

She's so calm, and it pisses him off because the flames are rising. The heat grows until he can feel the sweat sliding down his cheeks, and still she won't get up.

"Beth! Move your ass!" He reaches for her, grabs her hand, but no matter how hard he pulls, she doesn't budge. "You can't stay here, dammit!" He's frantic, his heart thundering in his chest like a jackhammer. "Beth, help me!"

"It's okay, Daryl."

Her blonde hair flutters as the fire roars around them, and he absently notices how pretty she looks, so soft and serene. But it's all wrong.

"Beth please!" he pleads as the first wave of sadness rolls over him. He knows what's going to happen, and there's not a damn thing he can do about it. Why won't she come with him?

He drops to his knees beside her, a sob bursting from his throat as he tugs desperately at her hands. "Come with me. Please."

Her hand lifts, caressing his tear soaked check, her beautiful smile full of regret. "You know I can't."

He breaks at that even though he knows it's the truth. He knows what it is to go on without her, and he doesn't know how to do it anymore. That old familiar ache has turned sharp in his chest, like a knife piercing his heart. He can't breathe, can't think. He's lost in a sea of anguish.

He can't do it again. He can't go back and live every goddamn day without her. Without hope, without light. He can't.

So he'll stay here. He'll stay with her.

But she anticipates this, and she shakes her head. "You have to go back, Daryl. They need you."

"And I need you!"

Leaning forward, she presses a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'm always with you..." She touches a hand to his dingy shirt, just over his heart. "Right here."

He shakes his head as another sob breaks free. "It ain't enough!" He drops his head to her chest, overwhelmed. It hits him all at once, the bitterness and anger of the last several months, the soul-rending pain and sadness. How can he go back to that?

The fire moves in close, snapping at his heels, but he doesn't care. He doesn't want to go back. He's happy to die right here with her. He'd take the next minute with her over living a lifetime without her.

So he folds her in his arms, desperate to keep their connection, but she knows what he's doing.

She lifts his head, sweeps a delicate finger down his jawline and whispers, "I love you."

And he knows. He knows she's sending him back, and he wants to explode at the unfairness of it all. But the fire is closing in, and he knows time is short. So, he grasps her face and kisses her. And those few moments are enough to tell her everything he never got to say, everything he never had the guts to say. He loves her, even if he could never bring himself to say it.

But she knows. He thinks she's always known it.

It's only a moment before he feels her shift, her tiny hand reaching up to push against his chest, and he knows it's coming.

"It's time," she says, her smile sad but peaceful.

But he's not ready to go. He'll never be ready.

As if she can hear the 'no' on his lips, she nods her head. "Yes."

He wants to argue, wants to demand she come with him or let him stay, but he knows it's no use. He's seen that look on her face. She's made up her mind, and he's powerless to deny her.

She gives a little laugh like she hears his thoughts, then nods her head resolutely and reminds him, "I hate goodbyes."

A watery laugh spills up as he remembers the first time they'd had this conversation, but just as quickly, it turns into a sob and he sniffs to get himself under control and repeats what he told her back then, "Me too."

And then she's gone, swallowed up in a rush of flames.

That fast, he's back in his makeshift bed and all alone as reality rips into him again. It's too much, and he wishes he was back there with her again. Just one more minute. One more second. He'd take anything.

But he's stuck here, breathing like his life wasn't over, like the only woman he'd ever loved wasn't dead and gone.

Wave after wave strikes him, the grief more than he can bear, and he rolls to the side in a desperate bid to escape the pain. He needs to get out, away from everyone else, away from everything else. He stumbles to his feet, tears clouding his eyes, and fumbles blindly for the doorknob. Only it rips from his grasp, and he pulls to a halt as Carol's face comes into view.

He knows what she's gonna say, but he can't hear it right now. He can't deal with her grief on top of his own. With a shake of his head, he pushes past her and out the front door into the first rays of light.

And it's like he can finally breathe.

Only there's no air. There's just more of her.

He takes off into the woods, his vision blurring and causing him to trip. And it takes him a second to realize he's crying, great streams of tears pouring off his face. It's like he's a child again, but he can't stop.

So he sinks to the ground, his back smacking roughly against the side of a tree as he draws his knees up and weeps. A scream builds in his throat, and he wants so desperately to let it go, but he knows she wouldn't want him to. She wants him to live.

He bites back a sob and tips his head back, eyes closing as he wills the tears to retreat. She wants him to survive, and he'll do that. He'll find a way to keep going like he's been doing. He'll put one foot in front of the other until his time comes, and then, he won't ever have to leave. He can stay with her forever.

He draws in a deep breath, and when he opens his eyes, he finds Rick there, his expression understanding.

Saying nothing, Rick hold out a hand, and just as quietly, Daryl reaches out and takes it. Together, they make their way back to the house and the rest of their group, and he realizes this was what Beth was talking about. They need him, and as much as he's always fought it, he knows he needs them too.

And as Rick pats him on the back, he feels something he hasn't felt in a long time.

Hope.

And it's like Beth is whispering in his ear, her voice sweet and soft and somehow soothing his ravaged heart. "Have a little faith…"