The journey back was a long one. Things had changed so much that he hardly recognized the place until the fences came into view. How long was it since he'd been here? Ten years? It must have been at least that long.

Kudzu and blackberry brambles had crawled over the edges of the fence that still stood. The field was completely overgrown with weeds and grass and the occasional corn or tomato plant sprung from seeds planted by Rick and Hershel so long ago. Nature was an amazing thing. Those plants from ten years ago died every winter but their seeds took root in the earth and the plant was reborn with the warmth of spring. It wasn't so simple with people.

Daryl slowly pulled his Harley through the gate. The wheels crunched over sun dried bones. It gave him a little pleasure to think he might be crunching the bones of the Governor beneath his boots. He parked his bike and grabbed his crossbow off the rack attached behind the seat. The place looked deserted but no reason to take chances.

The prison walls were still standing, probably would be for years to come. The holes blasted by the tank were reminders of the last moments he'd spent here. The moments before he and Beth ran for their lives. Nothing was ever the same after that day.

The tank still stood on the edge of the courtyard. Its exterior was covered in rusty patches and flaking paint. Scorched areas still showed along the top of the behemoth from the exploding grenade Daryl had sent rattling down the barrel. The vines had begun creeping through the treads and along the undercarriage of the vehicle. It would soon be no more than a lump underneath a sea of green leaves.

Parts of the yard still looked familiar. The small shed still stood in the corner although its roof was rusted and the boards were grey and weathered. The next strong wind would probably take it down. Bits of the lives of the people now long gone still littered the ground leading towards the cell block door. A dropped bag, a shoe, a photo in a frame long ago faded to whiteness by the sun and a baby carrier, Judith's, still lay where they'd fallen.

The door to Cell Block C looked weather beaten. Daryl was afraid it might be too rusted to open but when he pushed and it moved albeit with a screech of protest from the hinges. The inside was like the nightmare version of what he remembered as home.

Layers of dust covered every surface. Cobwebs and dried leaves littered the area. Inside the cells, rodents had made homes in the bedding and pillows left behind. The whole place smelled of warm rat piss. Daryl walked slowly past the empty cells. A small crib still sat at the end of the bunk where Rick once slept. Clothes hung on pegs in the one where Glen and Maggie stayed.

He stopped a moment in the doorway of what had been Beth's room. Yellowed crayon drawings were still tacked to the wall over the bunk. A few books sat neatly on a shelf. In the back corner, he noticed something else. A sign that read "0 Days Without An Accident". He picked the sign up and ran his finger across the lettering. He remembered this from the night he'd told her about Zach. The first time she'd hugged him.

He placed the sign back down and wiped at his eyes before walking to the next cell. It was once Hershel's domain. The cell was Spartan, only a small lantern and a Bible lay on a table next to the cot. Daryl picked the Bible up and wiped the dust off the cover. He remembered seeing Hershel bent over this book so many times through their years together. Daryl wished he could find comfort in the words of this book the way that Hershel had. As he turned the book in his hands to replace it on the table, something fell out and fluttered to the floor at his feet. He bent to pick it up.

Daryl opened the folded square to reveal a photo of three smiling young people standing in front of a white fence with horses grazing in a field behind them. It was Maggie and must have been her stepbrother Shawn and then Beth. She stood with a huge smile on her face and her hands stuffed in the back pockets of her jeans. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail but curling tendrils had sprung free all around her face.

It had been so long. He'd forgotten how her smile lit up her face and made her eyes sparkle. He slumped down into the chair as he felt the sob building in his throat. He'd lost her, lost them all.

Daryl thought often about the night he and Beth sat drinking moonshine and talking. She told him then that he was made for this world, that he'd be the last man standing. He'd scoffed at her but she persisted.

"You will. You'll see. But you're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl Dixon."

She'd been right about it. He was the last man standing of all the people he'd known and loved. He'd watched them fall away over the years. Some of the losses hurt more than others but he felt them all. He still felt her loss the most even after all this time.

The last to go was Rick. After losing first Judith and then Carl, Rick didn't care much for living anymore anyway and so he was ready when the time came. He took care of what had to be done himself with the gun he'd carried through it all.

After burying Rick, Daryl decided to come back home. He'd never liked Alexandria and with his whole family dead, he had no reason to stay. He packed his duffel bag, loaded it onto his Harley and took off. The trip south took months. Roads were washed out or completely overgrown. The few survivors left had walled off whole towns and would shoot first if approached by a stranger.

He'd made it here, though, back home. And this was home, as crazy as it sounded, more than any other place he'd ever lived. This was the place he remembered as being a place where he was loved and accepted, a place where he fit in.

Daryl looked down at the picture again. He wished she could be here now. He could use a friend. "What the hell am I supposed to do now?" he asked as he ran his finger along Beth's face in the picture. She had nothing to say, just kept smiling and looking at him with those big blue eyes. He looked up and was startled to see a child standing in the doorway of the cell.

It was a little girl with long blond hair braided into pigtails. She stood quietly just looking at him as she gripped a stuffed bear tightly in her arms. Her big blue eyes reminded Daryl of those he'd just seen in the photo.

"Are you sad?" she suddenly asked without batting an eye or seeming afraid of him at all.

"Uh, yeah I reckon I am," he said.

"My mama is sad sometimes too," she replied.

"Is your Mama here?" he asked.

Suddenly he heard a frantic whisper from down the hallway, "Beth! Beth! Where are you?"

"I'm right here, Mama," the girl said looking back to the right. "I found a man."

He heard running footsteps and saw a woman grab the girl from behind and back away from the cell door raising a pistol toward him as she moved.

"You get out of here now," the woman said. Her hands were shaking so badly that Daryl was afraid she'd squeeze the trigger by mistake.

"Wait, hold up," he said as he raised his arms. "I ain't gonna hurt ya. I used to live here. I came back…just lookin' I guess. I'm sorry. I didn't know no one else was here. Just be careful with that gun."

"Who are you?" the woman asked, her face a steely mask.

"Name's Daryl Dixon. Like I said, me and some friends lived here in this cell block once a long time ago," he told her.

"Daryl Dixon?" the woman asked as she slowly lowered the gun.

"Yeah," he said, wondering what had caused the sudden change in attitude.

"I'm Kate Warren. I feel like I know you already," the woman explained.

"Have we met? I don't remember you," he said as he lowered his arms.

"No, we haven't. It's just….well, I've read about you," Kate explained.

"Read? What the hell are you talkin' about lady?" Daryl asked. He was beginning to wonder if this woman wasn't a little kookoo for cocoa puffs.

"I'm not crazy. I promise. Look, just come with me please," she said as she took the little girl's hand and started down the hallway toward the cafeteria. As he followed them, the woman continued to explain.

"I found this place when I was almost 8 months pregnant. I'd just lost my husband and things were bad. I needed a safe place," she said.

"Yeah, that's how we ended up here too," he replied.

" I know," she said. "Lori was pregnant too."

"How the hell…..?" he began.

"I'll show you," she promised as they made the turn toward the prison cafeteria and kitchen. Daryl just followed her without speaking. Now he was beginning to wonder if he was losing his mind.

They walked into the cafeteria which had been made into a homey and comfortable living space. There were cots in the corner covered by colorful quilts and a table with a vase of wild flowers sitting atop it. A small group of toys lay scattered on a rug in the middle of the floor. Kate walked over to a book shelf, pulled out a notebook and handed it to Daryl.

"This is how I know about you and the others," she said.

Daryl opened the notebook and began reading.

"We just had a new group of people come to the farm. One of them is a boy who got shot accidentally by Otis. Daddy is trying to help him but we still don't know if he'll make it. These people have been living out on the road. They call the sick people 'walkers'. They make it sound so much worse than Daddy says it is. I don't know what to believe anymore."

Daryl flipped a few pages and read again.

"It's true. It's all true. They aren't still alive and just sick. Mama tried to kill me when that man opened the barn doors. It was awful. I can't stand this. I don't want to live like this. I wish she would have killed me. I don't want to have to see anything like that ever again."

Then a few pages further in –

"Since we've left the farm, we just keep moving. Lori is getting bigger now. It's got to be hard for her being pregnant and never getting any sleep and always being hungry. Daryl keeps us fed as well as he can with his hunting but there's never enough. Rick is tough but he's kept us safe so far. I don't know what's going to happen if we don't find a safe place soon."

Daryl closed the book and looked over at the shelf. There were two other notebooks like the one he was holding.

"They all like this?" he asked as he reverently held Beth's diary to his chest.

"Yes. I read them all probably 20 times while I was waiting for this one to be born. It was like listening to a friend talk. Then when my little girl was born it just seemed natural to name her after the girl who'd gotten me through the last month of being alone so I named her Beth," Kate told him. "I've read them all to her as well, like bedtime stories, well except for the scary parts."

"She was always writin' in that damn diary," he said as tears sprang to his eyes against his will.

"She really respected you, Daryl," Kate told him as she gently touched his arm. "You can read it for yourself but she said you were a better person than you knew, that it was you more than anyone who held them together."

"Pssht! That ain't true. I just did what Rick said…mostly," Daryl replied.

"I know about him too and Carl and baby Judith. And Beth's sister Maggie and her father. Will you tell me about them and about her? About all of them? Are any of them still alive?" Kate asked.

"Nah, they're all gone," he said sadly, dropping his head toward the floor. "I'm the last man standing just like she said I would be. It sucks."

"I've been alone for a while, too. It's hard but somehow she helped me get through it. She writes with such hope in almost every entry. It makes you believe that things can be good again, at least a little bit," Kate told him. "I hope my Beth is like that. I hope that she gets the chance to be."

"Yeah, Beth…she had faith. She believed in the good things in the world. I can tell you about her, about all of 'em, if you really want to hear," Daryl told her. "But would you mind if I read the rest o' these first?"

"No, not at all. I'll make us something to eat. You just have a seat," Kate told him before bustling off to the kitchen.

Daryl sat down on the floor and opened the diary again. As he was reading, he felt a gentle nudge against his side. He looked over to see little Beth standing next to him with her bear in one hand and her thumb in her mouth.

"What you want, girl?" he asked softly. She plopped herself down in his lap and leaned her head back against his chest.

"Tell me the Beth story," she said. So, he leaned his chin down against the top of her curly blonde hair and began to read.

"My name is Beth Greene. I live on a farm in Georgia with my Mom, Dad, sister Maggie and brother Shawn. I'm only 17 now and I don't know what I want to do when I'm older but I want to make a difference. I want my life to count because that's what matters. If you leave the world a better place when you're gone, then you've done your job."