Oooh I have an idea if your not too busy:) a post prison prompt were beth has a fear of thunder storms and she tries running to maggies cell buts its dark and she ends up in daryls and practically jumps on him.
Thank you for the prompt! Replying to fic requests again after 8 years, he we go :’)
Beth’s fear of thunder storms had faded away in her pre-teen years, back in the days before, when her mother could stroke her hair and tell her softly that seasons cycle and rain was cleansing. Beth hadn’t jumped at the sound of thunder since she was twelve.
So why, now, at the age of eighteen, was she hyperventilating as the sky boomed?
It was a late night. The rain hadn’t even started pattering onto the prison until everyone had been long asleep. Beth reasoned that her anxiety was due in part to the fact that the storm had woken her up from a terrifying nightmare - one where her mother ambled towards her, rotting, eyes red and glazed over. She’d woken with a start at the first crack of thunder. And now, for whatever reason, she couldn’t seem to settle the aggressive race of her pulse.
“It’s only thunder,” she insisted softly to herself, taking a deep breath. “You’re fi-”
Another burst just outside the walls made her gasp and nearly hit her head on the bunk above her. She curled up, pulling her knees to her chin, and tried to cover her ears. But as soon as she shut her eyes, the unwelcome image of her mother’s decomposing face stared back at her.
Beth hopped out of bed and hurried, barefoot, over to the cell where she knew Glenn and Maggie would be asleep. The prison being pitch black didn’t help her navigation. The moon was obscured by rainclouds, and though Beth tried hard to adjust to the thick darkness, she couldn’t seem to position herself. The floor was cold and hard, and with the continuous slam of rain, she could only feel her own increasing fear disorient her.
Despite her best efforts, she could feel tears start to wet her cheeks.
After rushing around in the dark, Beth could finally feel the steel bars that would indicate her sister’s room. Stealing her way inside, she reached blindly in the dark for Maggie or Glenn. Her fingers met skin and she gingerly tapped it, but without warning, a hand grabbed her wrist and she gasped.
“Who’re you?” A sleep-heavy, deep voice demanded.
Beth fought against the grasp around her wrist until the voice registered to her. “D-Daryl?”
Immediately, the hand released her. “Beth?” She could hear the figure sit up in bed. Daryl was on his feet in a flash. “What’s goin’ on?” He blinked against the darkness and moved towards his crossbow.
Beth sniffed and hastily wiped her tears away. “I’m sorry, I thought this was Maggie’s cell. Everythin’s oka-” Thunder boomed directly above them and Beth let out a heavy gasp, stumbling into Daryl. He caught her by the arms and seemed to process the situation.
“You was lookin’ for Maggie?” The drowsiness in his voice gave way to consciousness. After a beat of silence. “You scared of thunder storms?”
“I just had a nightmare,” she mumbled, embarrassed. Her eyes finally seemed to adjust to the dark and she could see the figure of Daryl just before her, turned sideways, having stepped back after catching her arms. “I’m sorry for wakin’ you. I’ll… I’ll head back.” In spite of her best effort to sound put together, her voice was shaking.
Without warning, Daryl reached out and placed a thumb on her cheek, directly on the wet spot where her tears had pooled. Silently, he drew his hand back and pulled out a rag, nudging it at her.
Beth, ashamed, accepted the offer and wiped her cheeks. Another clap of thunder sounded and she fought against the natural gasp that surfaced, but in its place an violent shudder left her body.
“Mkay, Greene,” Daryl muttered conclusively. Beth could feel his hand on her elbow first, then on her back, gently ushering her towards the bed. “I got a bunk. You stayin’ here tonight.”
Beth could have protested but she didn’t. She was tired and scared, and there was no safer cell in this prison block than Daryl Dixon’s.
“I’ll take top bunk,” he said once she’d sat on the bottom.
“Wait,” she reached out, the tips of her fingers landing on his arm. “Can you…?” She trailed off, embarrassed at her own request but desperate for company. Her mother used to stroke her hair and talk with her to drown out the thunder. Daryl didn’t need to do all that. In fact, he didn’t need to do anything for her. But Beth knew she wouldn’t be able to rest unless someone was near.
Daryl seemed subtly surprised at the unspoken request. He bit his lip in contemplation, staring through the dark at the faceless figure of Beth, before grunting a short, “Mhmm,” and settling in bed next to her.
They sat stiffly upright against the wall, shoulder to shoulder.
For the next tense thirty minutes, sounds of the unyielding rain, the occasional burst of thunder, and Beth’s smothered gasps filled Daryl’s cell. He’d unsurely put an arm around her for comfort, settling into the position when she accepted the touch and melted into his side. Before long, she was asleep.
Daryl waited for the right moment to untangle himself and head to bed. But for some reason he wasn’t tired anymore. He felt like there was nowhere else he was meant to be other than right here, holding Beth.
-
Beth awoke the next morning, the sun having cleared the Georgia clouds out of the sky as if last night never happened. She lifted her head and tried to orient herself. She was in her own cell, in her bed, with the covers pulled over her. She pushed herself up and peered around, her gaze falling on the sight of Daryl sitting on the floor right by her bed, his head rocked back against her mattress, eyes closed, arms crossed. Just behind his head, pooled up besides her own pillow, was the rag he’d given her to wipe her tears.
