"There are no happy endings.

Endings are the saddest part,

So just give me a happy middle

And a very happy start."

Shel Silverstein, A Light in the Attic

It was one of those quiet mornings when the whole world seemed to freeze and time stood still, enabling the memories of the long-gone past to suffocate you. Daryl was sitting on a porch with his elbows on his knees, looking into the distance, his eyes scanning the surroundings, noticing every single detail of a place he had to call home.

The neat houses of the Commonwealth stood out like gingerbread mansions on a Christmas card, basking in the rays of the early morning sun. Flower beds with bright primroses and azaleas, freshly painted wooden benches, and catchy shop signs here and there all made a picture-perfect image of a typical American town, and he hated every second he spent in it. It wasn't real; this flawless life free of rotten walkers and a neverending struggle for survival gave people a false sense of security and bliss, and he knew that those things would never be there to last. Eventually, they would be ripped from your grasp, no matter how tightly you held onto them. Daryl had been fighting for so long and had lost so many close friends that he had the privilege to call family that he felt like a walking corpse himself. Somewhere in the aftermath of another battle, he had lost himself and became the mere shell of the man he could have once become. The man he could have been proud of.

The only thing that kept him going was Judith and RJ, and his promise to Michonne to keep them safe. Of course, others depended on him as well, but they could learn to do without him if needed, and frankly speaking, if it weren't for the kids, Daryl would simply disappear one day and seek his death somewhere in the woods.

The soft sound of approaching footsteps made his lips twitch in a knowing smile.

"No rest for the weary, ain't it?" He asked without turning back.

"Look who's talking." A skinny girl replied in exasperation, sitting right next to him. Her long brown hair covered her bony shoulders, and a jolt of pain stabbed through his heart when he noticed a braid tied into her mane on the side. Just like the other girl he once used to know. Just like the other one he had lost.

They were sitting in companionable silence for a while, lost in their own thoughts and taking comfort in each other's presence. Sometimes Daryl wondered if it was her loneliness or his influence that made Judith become just like him in her somber quietness. She was too serious for her age, but he didn't consider it a disadvantage. The brutal world they were living in didn't favor absent-mindedness and carelessness. The minute you let your guard down, someone got injured or killed, but maybe in the Commonwealth, they had a chance to postpone the inevitable. Even if he didn't believe in it, he still had to give it a try.

"I had a dream last night," Judith whispered, not looking at him.

Daryl kept silent, patiently giving her the opportunity to tell him about it whenever she felt ready. The girl hesitated for a few moments before continuing with her story in a quiet yet firm voice.

"I saw my dad, Carl, and Michonne. They were laughing at something I did. And there was this girl. She was singing. She had the most beautiful voice."

Daryl had a sudden choking feeling, and he bit his lip hard, hoping that would distract him from the image of a blond girl that was beginning to form in his mind.

"Sounds like a nice dream." He said huskily, ignoring a lump forming in his throat.

Judith worried her lip between her teeth and met his squinting gaze.

"Not a dream, a memory. No matter how hard I try, I can't remember her face. And it scares me."

"Why?"

"Because I'm afraid that one day I won't be able to remember how Carl looked like, or my dad, or Michonne. It would be like none of them ever existed! What will I tell RJ when he asks me again about our big brother and I can't even remember him?"

"You were just a kid back then. It's a miracle you remember her at all." Daryl replied after a while. "Memories are a tricky thing. Some of them are brighter than others. Some eventually fade away. But there are some that always stay, no matter how shaky life gets or how hard you try to forget them. You know, some tiny details of the places you once visited or people you've been with."

"It hardly seems enough," Judith said bitterly, with tears in her eyes.

"It isn't, but it's still something."

"The girl from my dream, you knew her?" She asked with a hopeful look on her serious, pretty face.

"Yeah," Daryl sighed, feeling the sick knot tying up his guts. "Her name was Beth."

"Beth," Judith repeated solemnly. "Maggie's little sister."

He gave a curt nod and prayed that Judy would quit questioning him further, but the girl stubbornly perked her nose and elbowed him on the side impatiently.

"You never talk about her. Neither does Maggie. Why?"

For a moment, he withheld, his mouth full of pause, which he could either spit out or swallow.

"Don't know. I guess it still hurts pretty much."

"Will you tell me about Beth, please?" She asked softly as if trying not to scare him off.

Judith held her breath, waiting for his words, afraid to make a single move. She had never seen him so distressed before. It wasn't an acute expression of grief or a helpless grimace of loss. It was something entirely different. Like he was somewhere else, left alone in the dark world fighting his own demons.

"She was tough," Daryl finally said, his eyes fixed on the pavement. "Not like her sister or Carol, but she had that inner light that drew us all to her."

"She was so strong-willed that at times I wanted to strangle her with my bare hands. I could never see the good in people, but Beth could. And somehow she made me change my mind. That little timid girl and her persistent optimism made me wanna be a better man."

Daryl closed his eyes, the words now rolling easily from his tongue as if the well-sealed dam had finally broken.

"Did you know that she practically raised you as a baby? Always carrying you with her around the prison and singing those silly songs that kept you quiet and me all wired up and annoyed. She was a lot like you, lil' ass-kicker. Believing there's still hope, restoring faith in others, making this whole damned existence worth living for. I have never met anyone like her. She was my light, and I failed her."

"I don't believe you." Judith retorted, wiping away the hot tears from her cheek. "It wasn't your fault! It could never be. You would never do anything to hurt the people you care about."

"I was supposed to protect her, but I wasn't careful enough. I let this whole thing happen. I know I didn't pull the trigger that day, but it will always feel like I was the one pointing a gun in her face. And there's nothing in the whole world that will ever change that."

"I know that feeling." The girl sighed and put her head on his shoulder. "My mom died giving birth to me. And sometimes I wish I were never born so that she could live. Maybe my dad would still be alive, and so would Carl. Maybe she would have kept them safe."

"Nah. No one is safe. Never forget that." Daryl cradled her head on his shoulder, a tender expression crossing his face.

Judith sniffled quietly, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"Yeah, I know. But we gotta keep trying."