Summary is here because FF likes to make my life hard…

Some people wear their guilt like an armor even when it's misplaced. Daryl is letting go of his, he doesn't have much of a choice, but it isn't easy. Beth, on the other hand, has hers wrapped so tightly around her frail shoulders if it wasn't there who would she be?

Maybe it's fate, the fact that they meet in the woods one day. And despite their diffrences they have a lot in common- mainly an overwhelming guilt for their actions and a bitter loneliness for the isolation they've created for themselves. Can a friendship that starts at a funeral for a bird be the catalyst that helps them both find their way?

A/N This one is like a movie in my head. I have a tentative idea of where it's going, but how it gets there is going to be as much of a surprise to me as it is to you all!

The steps leading up to the porch where Beth is sitting are worn smooth in spots. The house is over a hundred years old. It's impossible to imagine how many feet assisted in the wearing and why they chose these steps at all. The sun's low over the horizon. Soon it will disappear and leave the world around her in darkness. The heat, however, won't be going anywhere until the wee hours of the morning when it cools off a bit, giving every living thing a reprieve for just a moment.

Looking down at where her legs are stretched out in front her she notices the blue polish on her toes is chipping in places leaving little flesh colored spots. There was a time when she'd jump up and fix them immediately, a time when there would have never been any chips in the polish at all. But that was then and this is now. She's imperfect. The difference between then and now is she isn't trying to hide it anymore. The screen door squeaks and instead of turning to see who has joined her on the porch she keeps her eyes on her toes. Maggie sits down beside her on the step.

"I was thinking we ought to talk to daddy about moving his bedroom to the first floor. Those stairs make me nervous." Her voice is soft, almost tender. But she is talking about their daddy and he still has a place in her big sister's heart.

"Ok." Beth agrees. Watching her daddy climb up and down the stairs terrifies her too. But for very different reasons than Maggie's.

"Well alright then if that's all ya got to offer." The brisk tone is back, one Beth is all too familiar with. She feels the stir in the air as her sister stands up.

"I said ok. I agree with you." Leaning over Beth picks at the flaking polish. Waiting. It doesn't take long.

"I know you do." The screen door slams shut and Beth is left alone on the porch, the crickets and fireflies the only witnesses to the tears she tries her best to hide.

When Beth was a little girl, she had a mama. A beautiful, perfect, angel of a mama. And she was Beth's world. Of course, she had to share her with her brother and sister, but it always felt like mama belonged more to her than to anyone else. Except for daddy. Daddy loved mama like the sun loved the moon. That's what he said when he'd twirl her around the kitchen late at night when they thought all the children were in bed asleep.

Beth had come down to get a drink of water. It made her feel brave to go all the way downstairs to the kitchen in the dark. Because she was the youngest and small for her age doing brave things was important. That first night there were soft voices and a flickering glow from the kitchen. Beth had tiptoed to the door and peeked around the threshold. At five years old she'd thought it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. Her mama and daddy dancing and daddy telling her, "I love you like the sun loves the moon, my sweet girl."

It had happened more than once and she'd never been caught until one day she'd asked her mama to tell her the story of the sun and the moon. Mama had been hanging sheets on the line to dry in the sunshine and Beth had thought her hair was like the sun and she remembered what she'd seen and blurted it out without thinking,

"Mama tell me the story of the sun and the moon, how he loved her." Her mama turned and looked at her she knew she'd been found out. She'd cried and apologized for spying on her parents, but her mama hadn't been mad and she didn't have to muck out stalls for misbehaving. All her mama had said was,

"One-day baby girl you're gonna fall in love and if he treats you like your daddy treats me if he loves you like the sun loves the moon, never let him go."

When her mama died three years later no one understood Beth's crying jags and how she would go on and on about the moon and how the sun needed the moon. They dismissed it as grief. She was still just a little girl. This was her way of dealing with it. But her daddy knew. Even though she'd stop crying the minute she noticed him watching her, she saw it in his eyes. She'd lost her mama and he'd lost his sun.

Those years between losing her mama and almost losing her daddy exist somewhere else in her head. A place she doesn't care to go because that's when the bad thing happened. The bad thing comes back to her sometimes in dreams and it refuses to stay put like the others. So she can't forget it. So she always remembers.

The summer she turned seventeen the world came crashing down around her again. She'd done her best to be 'perfect Beth' for nine long years. Her brother Shawn had left for college and Maggie not long after. They went on with her lives and left her behind in an empty house filled with sadness. A home that wasn't home anymore. But that summer they'd both come back to help out and spend time with daddy and Beth. There had been things she'd wanted to say, needed to say, but the words seemed to get stuck in her throat.

Then the bathroom mirror had broke, the glass was there shining like an answer and she picked it up. When she saw the blood she'd found her voice and started screaming. Maggie was the one who found her and she was wrapping up Beth's arm when Shawn came in and said he'd called an ambulance. Maggie had huffed out a breath and told him to cancel it because Beth was gonna be fine, she'd drive her to the ER herself. But the ambulance wasn't for Beth. Daddy had fallen down the stairs in his hurry to get to her.

After dealing with the complications of a broken leg that lasted for two years, her daddy finally lost his leg. On paper, it was listed as complications from a badly broken leg and a bone infection that resulted in the amputation of Hershel Greene's leg. But in Beth's head and heart it was her selfishness, her incredibly stupid attempt to get attention that caused her daddy's accident and the loss of his leg. Perfect Beth was gone.

Shawn and his little family moved back to Senoia and Maggie left Atlanta and came back to the farm. No one ever blamed Beth, the thought probably never even crossed their minds. It didn't have too though, Beth carried the guilt on her frail shoulders regardless. Daddy seemed to find strength in having his children all so close by, even her. And for him, she would force a smile, try her best to be as close to perfect Beth as she could. But it was a struggle and so she'd escape every chance she got, to the woods or the loft in the barn.

She probably should have left and done something on her own. Maggie and Shawn had. Even though they came back, both had gone to college and graduated. A part of her had wanted too. She fantasized more than once about packing a bag and just going and not stopping until the hurting went away. Her guilt kept her from ever actually going through with it. She owed it to her family to stay on the farm and help out with everything her daddy couldn't do anymore.

Eventually, she met the family that had moved into the farm next to the Greenes. The Dixons. They weren't much for farming and mainly used the woods on their property for hunting and a place for their family to grow. Beth fell in love with the kids and they opened their arms to her, hired her to babysit and didn't pay any mind to the rumors that swirled around the youngest Greene daughter.

They made her feel normal and she craved that. But she kept them at arm's length. Her family fell apart. She doesn't get to have another.

Sighing Beth stretches and glances at the house. It's dark, none of the windows are lit up by light from the inside. Daddy is probably in bed already and Maggie, she bets, is on her phone whispering to her boyfriend Glenn about how horrible Beth is. Heading away from the house and towards the barn, the loft offers her a solace her home doesn't anymore.

xxxxXxxx

Daryl steers the motorcycle down Main Street. The motor rumbles beneath him as old, familiar places come into view. He'd grown up here in a house on the edge of town and then later in a shitty double-wide trailer out in the woods.

Not much has changed since he left Merle's place five years ago. In fact, not much has changed since he was a kid. Not on this side of town anyway. On the north side, the new side it's a different world. But right here, this street, it's almost like time stood still. The little grocery and hardware store where he'd gone with him mama countless times are still there. The alley that led to the dumpsters where he'd ride his bike trying his best to keep up with Merle. A few things are new. There's an antique store and a flower shop. And it looks like a bank has taken up residence in the old five and dime.

But it still has the feeling of home. A feeling he isn't completely comfortable with because home has always been such a painful concept for Daryl. He's hoping that maybe coming back here now he can change that. Because it was home before with Merle and Carol and the kids. It was beginning to feel like the home he never had.

All he brought with him is the pack on his back and what his saddlebags can hold. When he'd took off before, he'd left everything he owned behind. He isn't sure where it all went and it doesn't matter much anyway. It was just things.

The sound of the bike draws some looks from people in town, but Daryl doesn't pay any mind to that or them. He's been looked at in a certain way all his life. Following the main road out of town, he heads in the opposite direction of the home he lived in until it burned down and the trailer that was his childhood hell. He's not going there, this is a different direction. A different world and a much better place.

If he can let himself accept it.

The trees are green and lush and line the road as it winds out of town. Daryl feels a tight knot of nerves in the pit of his stomach as he comes upon the turnoff to his brother's place. It's always been easier for him to leave. He's never come back- not like this.

It's not a farmhouse but an updated ranch style home that sits at the end of the drive. It was there when Merle and Carol inherited the land, but they've done a lot of work on the place. Added landscape and updated the windows. Merle's truck is parked in front of the garage. Next to it is an SUV, Carol's. There's a soccer ball on the lawn and a basketball hoop over the garage. Two small bikes lay on their sides discarded by the boys they belong too. And trees, more trees. Not much of the property has been used for farming purposes in years. And certainly not since Merle and Carol moved in.

The shop Merle built with Daryl's help, where he does auto repair is closed up. There's an apartment above it. It's where Daryl stayed before and where Carol insisted he stay this time, refusing to let him pay rent for a room or anything else. "Family," she'd said, "belongs together." And they need Daryl. Merle, her, Sophia, and the boys.

The boys. Obviously, they heard the bike as Daryl came down the drive. The front door opens and one little boy comes tearing across the lawn and out to where Daryl has stopped. It's Beau, wearing a big smile and hopping on one foot. Up near the house, Carol stands with another little boy, long hair covering his eyes, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. Daryl Junior or DJ as everyone calls him, everyone except Daryl. He calls him little d. His namesake. Little d is the reason for Daryl's disquiet. He thinks he can see the scar that mars the left side of his nephews face. Truthfully he's really too far away, but that doesn't' seem to register in Daryl's brain. The scar is there and Daryl knows it.

"Uncle Daryl! You're here!" Before he can even respond Beau wraps his arms around Daryl's waist. At a loss for what to do with the little boy's show of affection Daryl awkwardly pats him on the head.

"Hey, Beau."

"You 'member me? I came an visited ya with daddy!" The kid is a talker. Like Merle. He lets go of Daryl and walks around the bike asking questions. Daryl just nods and watches out of the corner of his eye as Carol comes up.

"Daryl I'm so glad you're here!" She wraps him in a warm hug. "It means so much, to all of us." When she pulls back he sees the tears in her eyes and once again at a loss for words he just nods. Uncomfortable. Carol knows him and she doesn't push.

"It's family, my brother. Ain't no question." He glances over to where DJ is standing a few steps behind Carol.

"DJ come say hi to your Uncle Daryl." Daryl watches as the little boy walks over and tilts his head to look up at Daryl. His hair falls back and it's there, a raised, red stripe about four inches long. It starts at the end of his eyebrow and runs down across his temple and cheekbone. Looking at it feels like someone punched Daryl in the chest. So hard he can barely catch his breath.

"Hi, Uncle Daryl." He's got a crooked smile and while most people would attribute it to the injury that caused the scar on is face, Daryl knows better. That crooked smile is his too.

"Hey, little d." He forces himself too look DJ in the eye and not look away. Even though it hurts.

"Can I look at yer bike?" He's sneaking looks at his brother who is kneeling by the engine checking it out like he knows what's what.

"Sure, go on," Daryl says. Carol shakes her head as they watch the boys circle the bike deep in conversation.

"They love bikes. Take after you and Merle."

"How is he?" Merle ended up in the hospital early with an infection. The surgery is scheduled for the end of the week and the infection needs to be cleared up by then in order for everything to goes as planned.

"Oh, he's ornery! And pissy. He hates being stuck there, misses his boys and dinners that taste good." Carol has a soft smile on her face as she talks about her husband. His brother. Daryl chuckles because he can just imagine what a crappy patient Merle probably is. "But he's all clear and ready for take off. Jesus Daryl, you're saving his life you know…" Her tears are back and Daryl does his best to give her a hug but it's weird and he's feeling all kinds of things in that moment. Brushing away the tears Carol straightens and clears her throat.

"I've got you set up in the guest room in the house for the first couple of days if you need it. And then, well I told you that apartment is yours. Merle put the damn thing there so you'd always be close." He isn't going to argue with her or even try and get out of staying here on the property. He came back to help his brother and himself too.

Carol knows why he left. She's been around for a while now. She was his friend first. He'd lived in her building for a short time and helped her with her piece of shit car. It had been her and her little girl, Sophia. She'd left her abusive husband, actually put him in jail and she was trying to get back on her feet. They'd been friends, nothing more. He'd had a couple of drinks one night and tried unsuccessfully to put the moves on her because he figured he was supposed too. She'd put a stop to it immediately and took him home and put his drunk ass to bed. The next day she confessed that she had feelings for Merle. Good ole Merle, always a hit with the ladies. Six months later he had a new sister in law and a niece. And a little over a year after that Beau and Daryl Junior were born. It had been the start of something good. But it seemed to Daryl that nothing good ever lasted. At least nothing that was good in his life. The accident that left DJ with the scar on his face changed everything.

The day it happened wasn't any different from any other day. It had been late afternoon and Daryl and Merle were in the living room with the two-year-old twins. They were like puppies, those two. Always rolling around wrapped up in each other laughing, screeching, and inevitably crying. When they were born, Beau came first, and he was bigger and louder. He came out screaming. DJ followed and was a skinny little thing, all eyes, and he barely made a peep. Those were the personalities that followed them as they grew. Merle would call them 'the brothers'. He told Daryl that they were like little carbon copies of them. "Only better brother cause they got us raising 'em up right and lovin' 'em something fierce. Changes every, love does." That might be true. Seeing what Carol and Merle created with their love had him almost believing.

There was a hunting show on TV and he and Merle had been watching it. Occasionally Merle would holler, usually at Beau, "Knock it off Beau!". But sometimes at DJ too, "Dammit DJ don' let yer brother sit on ya!". Then he'd scoop one or the other up and hold them in a bear hug, kissing and tickling on them until they were out of breath and sweaty from giggling. The TV would hold their attention for a minute or two and then they'd be rolling around again.

DJ had just squirmed his way out of his brothers hold and took off running. He stumbled as Beau's little hand grazed his shoulder and tripped an fell just a hair's breadth out of Daryl's reach. The world was suddenly moving in slow motion as the toddler collided with a glass door on the entertainment center. There was a crash and blood and oddly enough it was Beau who started crying first. Merle snatched up DJ and started yelling for Carol and Daryl stood frozen measuring the distance between him and that cabinet. He looked at his empty hands and over to the large glass shards covered in blood. It was Beau's screams that got through his addled brain and he'd reached for the boy and picked him up rubbing his little back and whispering, ' "S ok Beau."

DJ peeked out from a mess of blood-soaked towels as Merle carried him to the car. His tiny face was white and his blue eyes looked huge. Merle held the towels and his son doing his best to apply pressure to the wound. Daryl couldn't look away, nodded when Merle said something about Beau and Sophia and that they'd call.

Then they were gone.

He doesn't remember much about what happened after. He'd put on a cartoon and Sophia pulled out snacks and a sippy cup full of juice for Beau and they sat in the living room for hours. The sun went down and the kids curled up in blankets on the floor in front of another cartoon. Merle eventually called. DJ had been taken into emergency surgery. The laceration was serious. Muscles in his face had been severed and he'd lost a lot of blood. But he'd be okay. He'd pull through.

"He's my boy, a Dixon. Take more than a little glass to bring 'em down!" Daryl heard the emotion in his brother's voice and it settled like a heavy weight on his heart.

That surgery was the first of three that DJ had to have. Daryl left shortly before the second one. After a fight with Merle. Because he still blamed himself. Merle had vehemently denied any fault on Daryl's part.

"Kids fall all the damn time! Ain't on you little brother! Ain't like that!"

" 'S gonna have fuckin' scars, on his face!" Daryl knew all about scars.

"Yeah? Well, baby brother we all got scars. Hell them stripes on yer back, I shoulda been there ta stop that shit!" Merle said hoarsely.

"Ya couldn' a known, ya jus'..." But Daryl often wondered. If Merle hadn't left him there with that monster would things have been different? He didn't blame Merle, his daddy had been the one swinging the belt. But none of that shit mattered now. It was over and done. All that mattered now was DJ.

And how he should have stopped it from happening. But he's just a redneck asshole.

He made his way to Nashville doing odd jobs here and there, living in shitty motels and making enough money to get by. He had a cell phone and stayed in touch with Merle, checked up on DJ. But even when he was able to think rationally about it all he still stayed away.

A few months before Merle started to get sick he brought Beau out to Nashville. It hurt Daryl's heart to see how the little boy had grown and changed, Daryl had missed out on all that. He knew then that Merle was trying to chip away at his stubborn ass.

"Ain't got shit here little brother. Oughta come home. Ya wanna blame yerself? Well alright then, but accidents happen and that's what it was, an accident. Ain't no shame in that. You stayin' away like this, there's yer shame boy." When they drove away Daryl was left feeling empty, longing for something he couldn't find in a bottle or out on the open road, longing for a place he could call home.

Carol's phone calls started coming and Daryl didn't even have to think about it. Merle was sick and needed a kidney. And being as stubborn as his little brother there was no way in hell he'd ask Daryl. But Carol would. For the boys, for her, and for Daryl. She knew if anything this might be what Daryl needed.

He'd left once. Now he's right back in the middle of everything he ran from- but this time he's here for good. This time he's gonna make it work.

A/N Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think in a review!