Daryl didn't recognize it at first, it's paint almost completely peeled off by weather and Walkers, the grass heavily overgrown and the memory of it almost too distant to recall, but as soon as they were close enough to really take in the homes' appearance and the grave stones scattered around, the realization hit him hard. Anette ran up to it when she saw the building, her fine, corn-colored hair swinging in it's braided ponytail, and he let her go on ahead, knowing that she was as good with her machete as he was with his crossbow, and that she probably wouldn't have stopped running even if he told her to stop anyway. So he just followed behind, the closer he came to it's heavy remembrance the greater his regret becoming.

He never would've even thought that they would come across this place. The place where he held so many bittersweet memories of Her. His love.

He watched Anette pry her way in, knowing that if she wanted help, she'd ask for it. It took her a minute, but eventually her sweet face beamed. Before she tried to open it, she knocked loudly on the door, both of them standing perfectly still as they waited for any sign of Walkers. When there was none, she opened the door with a heavy tug and It creaked as it opened. She smiled back at her father, who gave her a nod and smirk of approval.

"Think we'll find somethin' good, Daddy?" she asked, stepping through the doorway.

"Dunno," he said, thinking about the last time he had been there. With her mother. "Wasn't much last time."

She turned around, her eyebrows furrowing. "Last time?" she asked.

He nodded. "'Member that place I told ya' about? Where yer' Mama and I stayed?" His hand gently traced the small table beside the door.

Her eyes widened. "This is the funeral home?" she asked, only needing confirmation, her eyes alight. "This is where you fell in love?"

Daryl smirked. "More like where we realized we… Cared about each other. Was more than love, Darlin', it was somethin' neither of us could put a name to." Not that they'd had the time to put a name to anything in the first place. Not that there was any rooms for names in such a cruel, unforgiving world.

"Maggie says you were soulmates," Anette said, smiling. "That ay'm a baby born of true love."

The archer shook his head, wondering what kinds of things Maggie had been telling Anette about a connection the brunette knew nothing about in the end. Daryl decided to clarify any misconceptions his daughter had about her parents relationship. "Kindred spirits, more like," he said softly. "She got me. Understood me. Caught me off guard too. She was strong, your Mama."

They had moved into the room with the casket he had lain in seventeen years ago, the piano across the room dusty, but in tact.

He felt a sudden shiver of a memory, where he was watching her play from the doorway, thinking to himself that she might be the last person he would ever see. He remembered being sad about the others, but also being almost unsettlingly at ease with Beth being that last person.

"On one of the first nights," Daryl said, feeling his throat get tight. "She played some song on th' piano, 'nd sang." Daryl chuckled a bit. "I told 'er that I wanted her to keep singin' cause there wasn't no Jukebox... I was stupid."

"Still are," Anette said, earning even more of a laugh from her father.

They stood there a minute, Daryl feeling as though she was still only a few feet away, her head moving as she tried to remember how to play, and her voice moving softly around the room. Anette was trying to feel whatever remained of her mother's spirit, hoping maybe that it could give her an actual image in her mind of what her mother had looked like.

"Do I look like 'er?" Anette asked suddenly, earning Daryl's undivided attention.

He smiled a bit. "More than you know, Baby girl."

"I mean, I know I got yer' nose, and yer' eye color…" Anette continued. "Maggie says I got my Mama's hair, and 'course I believe her. I mean, s'not like ay'm a brunette like you." She fiddled with a lock of her hair, her eyes wandering the floor boards.

"Yer' face shape is'almost identical ta' hers," he said, putting an arm around his daughter and giving her a scruffy kiss on the side of her head. "She'd've loved to know that, too."

Anette took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. "Ya' never know Daddy… Maybe she does."

Daryl stiffened at his daughter's words, the concept of Heaven seeming so far fetched with everything he had seen, and everything he had done. Yet somehow, the thought of Beth watching over them, looking down at the beautiful, smart, brave, and incredibly strong girl she had given birth to all those years ago, warmed his heart.

"Yeah," he said softly, squeezing Anette's shoulders lightly. "Maybe."

When they left the funeral home, what little they had found tucked away in their backpacks, they walked back through the graveyard.

Anette stopped suddenly, her eyes fixed on a grave, and Daryl felt a strange sense of Deja Vu.

"What is it Darlin'?" Walking back over to stand beside his daughter. His heart stopped when his eyes locked onto the words on the grave, Beloved Mother and Sister.

He felt a sting as if pieces of the grave itself had broke off and poked into his skin.

Anette scanned the surrounding area, finding some yellow and some blue flowers, picking them carefully before setting them on top of the grave, just like he had done in honor of Hershel all those years ago.

"Love you Mama," she whispered, moving back to stand beside her father, who felt so much pride that this amazing girl was his child.

He looked back to the grave, pulling his daughter into a warm side hug, feeling her shoulders shaking beneath his arm. "Love ya' Beth," he whispered.

If there really was anything or anyone up there, he knew that that was where Beth would go.

He had decided long ago that if anyone belonged in Heaven, it was the angel that had stood strong beside him, even when he lost his temper… Even when he had called her awful names, and yelled and screamed things he didn't mean. She had put up with so much, given him all she had, an he had tried so hard to give as much as he could back, but he had never felt like it was enough. But hadn't seemed to mind.

She saw him for all that he had been, and all that he was, and she stuck around anyway. She loved him anyway. Which was something he'd never thought he deserved.

And then she had given him the beautiful gift of their daughter, and he felt like the luckiest man to walk the earth, but seeing both of them had been so short lived.

He was given one gift, only to have another taken away.

So yes, in Daryl's eyes, if anyone belonged in Heaven, it was Beth Greene.