PLEASE READ -(scenario: Many years down the road, Beth and Daryl are married and settled in Alexandria with their family. Daryl still goes out on runs and scouting missions; during one of these outings, he and Aaron get separated and Daryl tracks his way back home. He comes across a stranger, an older man, and they end up sharing the evening and a campfire together)

"Who is it you're trying to get back to?"

Daryl glances up at the man across the fire. It had been at least an hour since either one of them had uttered more than a word or a grunt; the sun had gone down, Daryl had lit the fire, and the man had strung up a few cans in the bushes. Neither one had relinquished their grip on their weapons, and it was looking like neither was going to sleep a wink that night.

The man purses his lips. "Can't hate me for being curious. I don't know you, you don't know me. It's a lonely life out here. Ain't much conversation between me and the trees."

It took a few minutes, a bite of fried squirrel, and some thinking before Daryl cares to reply.

"Got a wife."

"Have you now? How long you guys been together?"

"A while. Don't know exactly how long. Long enough and not long enough."

The man chuckles, picking at his teeth. "Yeah. I feel you. Any little rascals?"

Daryl chuffs. "Two. Well, three. One's...one's comin."

The man's face lights up. "I had two boys. They were grown, had their own families and lives."

Daryl just sits back and lets the man talk.

"My old lady passed couple of years before the Turn. Liver cancer. Glad she didn't have to deal with all this." The man glances around, at the eerily quiet forest, at the temporarily dormant night. Then he looks back to Daryl and asks, "You know your wife before all this? Were you married then?"

Daryl shakes his head. "After. Knew her for a while before we ever got together. Her family had a farm, see. And my group stayed there. Then we all had to run like hell when a herd came through. Stayed at a prison after that-"

"A prison?"

Daryl nods. He can't believe he's talking so much, can't believe he's telling this stranger such personal things. Normally he's cautious, plays his cards close to his chest, but the man has this...God help him, the man has a twinkle in his eye that's old world good, and Daryl just wants to give him the benefit of the doubt and trust the guy.

"Yeah. We made it our own. Then...shit went down, and we had to go. We all got separated. She and I...we got out together."

"Already married then?"

"Naw. Not even close to it."

The man chuckles. "Never did believe in love at first sight."

Daryl snorts. "Me neither. She was a pistol back then. Is now. Took me some time to get used to her. She's...nothin like me."

"Opposites attract. That sure is true. My old lady was the sweetest bird. Couldn't ever understand why she liked a douchebag like me."

"Yeah. Beth..."

"Her name's Beth?"

"Yeah."

"Hm. My daughter-in-law was a Beth." The man gestures for Daryl to continue so he does.

"Well, my Beth - she's strong and she's smart. But she's got this heart...she's sweet, like your woman."

"And your kids?"

Daryl can't help but smile a little thinking of his youngins.

"My firstborn is a pistol like her mama. She's seven. Her brother, he's quieter. Keeps to himself mostly."

The man smiles. "How far along is she with the new kid?"

"We're guessin' six or seven months."

"Planned or surprise?"

Daryl smirks. "They were all surprises."

The man throws his head back and laughs. "That's what makes them even better, huh?"

"Mmhmm."

They're quiet for a few minutes again and the cicadas rise in song around their campsite.

Then the stranger says, "Y'know, they say it's better to be alone so you won't hurt anybody. I thought that too, especially when the world ended. Didn't let myself join any groups. Didn't let myself get attached. Didn't even call my boys. I thought...I thought I would just be their burden. They had kids, y'know? I thought that they didn't need their old man riding their backs too with all this hell going down."

Daryl stares into the fire and keeps his yap shut. He's talked enough for one evening it feels like.

"But I have to say...I'm jealous of you, kid. You've got a family. You've got a home. You've got a future. I've got...this backpack and this knife and that's it."

Daryl glances up again and he realizes that he might have just enough energy to talk a little bit more.

"How many walkers have you killed?"

The man blinks and then answers slowly, "Lost count after thirty."

"How many people have you killed?"

The stranger blinks again, twice.

"Two. One was an accident. Fell off a cliff, swear to God."

"Why?"

"Self defense."

Daryl looks at him, weighs the man's every word, and then nods.

"You wanna come with me? We've got a place. It's got walls. People. Food."

In silence and a sense of shock, the man gapes at Daryl. He doesn't smile. He doesn't jump for joy.

Then he knocks Daryl clear on his ass.

"No, thank you."

"Why?"

The man just shrugs.

"I don't deserve to be anybody's burden."

So the following dawn, Daryl wakes and says goodbye to his companion. He watches as the man turns in the direction from which he came, and he thinks about how true that old saying is.

You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink.

It's a hell of a long walk back home, but the sight of the gates makes the miles seem like mere centimeters.

Spencer calls down to Rosita and the gates rattle open. She greets Daryl's ragged form with a smile and a pat to his scruffy cheek.

"I was starting to get worried about you," she quips, giving him a quick hug.

He smirks and bats her off. "What are you, my mother?"

She doesn't have a chance to do anything other than roll her eyes before a high-pitched squeal shatters the sound barrier.

Daryl turns just in time to catch his firstborn as she tunnels head first in to him.

"Daddy!"

"Oomph!" Daryl tries to catch his breath and his balance as his son joins the party. Rosita laughs behind him. "Hey, easy there! Your old man ain't as sturdy as he used to be."

There's sloppy, sticky kisses and hugs and words not quite strung together right. And then the sea parts because here comes their mama, their beautiful mama, his wife, his world, his Beth.

In the middle of it all, his wife is there. The kids step aside because it's her turn now to welcome their father home.

Her arms wrap warm and tight around his neck and they can't quite fit together like they usually do because of her ever-blossoming womb. His eyes flutter closed and he breathes her in, committing the feel of her skin, of her taking a breath, of her hands in his hair to memory.

They part just long enough for her to cup his jaw in her palms and kiss him several times over in quick succession.

"I missed you," she exhales, and he can taste her hidden words. What took you so long? I was worried. Even after all these years, she worries about him each time he steps outside the walls of Alexandria.

He pulls her close again. Her embrace is home. Her warmth is his hearth.

"Missed you too," he says.

As his wife breaks away this time, as she gathers the children and takes his hand to head home, he thinks about the man he met on the road.

He used to be that man.

He used to think that he didn't deserve anything good.

Daryl looks at his family—his strong willed daughter, his quiet and quick son, and the one nestled in his wife's belly—and he sees beauty. He sees beauty that came from him. Beauty. Goodness. Love.

It took so long for him to realize that he was never anyone's burden but his own.