AN: I realized that I don't really share information on FF like I do A03. So for anyone reading, this fic was written in its entirety before I ever posted the first chapter. And with that said, it's 12 chapters long so it's definitely reaching the end! Just a heads up for anyone that's wondering. I can't believe it's gone by this fast and a huge thanks to anyone that has read, reviewed, favorited, etc.

The kitchen floor seemed as good a place as any for Beth to break down after watching Shane walk away. She sat still, her knees tucked under her chin as she hugged her own legs - just like she used to do when her mother had scolded her for crying about dinner. Except her tears weren't from a childish tantrum, even if she wished it could be that easy. They came steady and hard until Beth had sat down just to gasp for air and try to make her nausea pass. Her mother had been good at that, Beth could remember that much. She'd always known the perfect thing to say.

Except Beth knew, this time, even her mother wouldn't have been able to comfort her. The woman would've been crushed by the secret Patricia had just placed on Beth's shoulders. And who would've blamed her? She'd spent her life caring for Hershel Greene. Starching his shirts, cooking his meals, finding his lost keys, bearing him children and how had he repaid her? The answer made Beth feel sick again.

Had he only done it once? Just one moment of weakness? Had they drunk a little too much one night while their partners were gone and buried the secret for decades? Maybe he'd sworn he'd never do it again and stuck by it. She could've asked Patricia but Beth didn't want to know the answer. For the second time that day, Beth was trying to defend a man who'd committed the worst type of deed and when she gasped for air again, she finally glanced up at the spot Shane had stood moments before.

Another hurt her mama couldn't have fixed.

The only thing Beth wanted more than to not look at Shane was to feel his arms around her and assure her that the sinking dread in her soul would pass. He was good at that. Maybe that was why Lori Grimes had fallen into his arms too, maybe that was why she'd chosen to play house with him while her husband had been laid out in the hospital. The memory of Shane's words stung almost as bad as everything else and there was no one to turn towards. In the past, her father would've been an option but he laid upstairs, not having uttered a single phrase since the stroke. Not that he would've liked what Beth had to say to him at that moment anyway.

Once again she found herself wishing for hope of a recovery but not because she missed him. Because she wanted to tear into him, to yell the words that could now only eat away at her insides.

The front door opened and Beth's heart leaped. She wanted him to come back even if she'd meant what she'd said. But it wasn't the sound of Shane's boots that entered - just Patricia. Tempting as it was, Beth didn't tell her to leave. After waiting for the footsteps to disappear upstairs, Beth finally peeled herself from the floor and headed in the same direction. Stopping at Hershel's room was second nature but Beth fought the urge. She couldn't look at him or whisper words of reassurance in his ear, she didn't trust what she had to say to anyone, even if he couldn't hear her.

The night was a long way off but Beth collapsed into her bed anyway. The sheets smelled like Shane's deodorant and instead of tossing them away, Beth burrowed in deeper. In a few days, the scent would be gone, either from the wash or normal use and Beth wasn't ready. Her head was pounding and it was sweet relief when her brain finally decided to turn off and fall into sleep, rescuing her from the things she'd wished she'd said to Shane and the things she wanted to say to her dad.

Darkness blanketed her bedroom when she woke up.

Beth didn't know what time it was or how long she'd been asleep, but it was disorienting, made worse when she thought she heard her name being called. The overwhelming urge to sleep said to ignore it but Beth heard it again - Patricia calling her name, just as the sounds of Hershel's monitors flooded her ears. With a few more blinks she realized it wasn't some sort of terrible dream or confusion from a tired mind, but the real deal. Tossing back her covers, she hit the ground running as her heart began to pound so hard she could hear the swooshing in her ears.

"Beth!"

"I'm coming," she yelled back, skidding to a stop right at Hershel's doorway.

"It just started, I-" Patricia began to say but Beth cut her off, holding a hand up.

She didn't need medical training to know what was happening, though there really wasn't much difference between humans and the animals she'd spent years at college studying.

The oxygen monitor was blaring, the heart monitors too - Beth could hardly hear anything else, but her eyes worked just fine. She froze for a moment, watching Hershel's chest rise and fall with every strained, ragged breath he took and she didn't have to touch him to see the pallor of his skin.

When Tara first entered the bar, Shane thought he was seeing double. The shots he'd started out with and the beers he'd used to chase them down would've explained why two people sat down in the stools next to him. He wasn't seeing double though, just Denise. Tara had clearly brought the girlfriend along after Shane's invitation and he could at least blame the booze for his confusion.

"You don't mind that I brought company?" Tara asked, already motioning the bartender over.

"The more the merrier," Shane lied.

"Good. You called on our date night and we rarely get to see each other as it is," Tara answered before turning to the man behind the bar. "We'll take two Coors."

"I can only have one," Denise added. "I'm on call."

"One's better than none," Shane replied, popping the cap off his next Miller.

He wasn't in the mood for company. Not really. There'd been nowhere else to go when he'd left the farm and the only thing worse than drinking with unwanted company was drinking alone. Shane didn't trust himself to be alone. The longer he'd sat there, the more pathetic he'd become, until the idea of swinging by Rick's house had become far too tempting. Whatever Rick had said to Beth, Shane wanted to make sure he could never say it again, to hurt Rick, this time intentionally. But he'd been too drunk to drive yet still sober enough to realize it wouldn't have actually fixed anything.

Once upon a time it would've been Rick he'd went to if something was eating away at him. It didn't happen often, usually it was Rick with the marital woes crying to Shane, but regardless, they'd always been there for each other. And if he couldn't have his ex-partner why not the soon-to-be?

"You know, you sounded a lot less drunk on the phone than you look," Tara finally said once their drinks had been served.

"Well...had more time to drink," Shane answered, staring aimlessly at the row of liquor behind the bar.

"Right. So, to what do I owe this invitation?" Tara asked. "At first I thought this was maybe a celebration of sorts, ya know, since we'll be working together soon. A getting to know each other type deal."

"Definitely not," Shane told her.

"Yeah, I kinda picked that up by the glassy eyes and the frown tattooed on your face."

"It's trouble with the missus."

It was Denise that proudly piped up that time and Shane leaned over to shoot her a death stare.

"What?" she asked him, smiling despite his glare. "This time of night you'd usually be there. But you aren't. You're sitting in a bar, all alone, drowning your sorrows. It's plain as day."

"Oh my God, you're right!" Tara replied, giving her girlfriend a high-five on a job well done. "That's so cute. You just wanted a friend."

Tara kept teasing and Shane just glared at them both. Was it too late to go knock Rick's teeth out? At least then he could get away from the bad country music and the two women beaming back at him.

"She's not my missus," he finally said, finishing off the last of his beer.

"Well, whatever she is, you aren't with her," Denise told him. "Must be a good reason."

"I'm actually flattered," Tara said. "You called me to discuss your lady troubles."

"Don't be," Shane told her. "I don't really have many options. Sorry, make that no options."

If Tara was bothered by his words, she didn't show it. But good cops knew how to take a punch.

"Either way, out with it. Tell us what's eatin' ya, big boy."

Shane didn't speak again right away. He waited for his next beer to be brought over and licked his lips after guzzling down half, tasting nothing - always a sign he needed to stop. But it went down smooth, making his next words easier.

"She ran into Rick today at the store," he eventually said, peeling the label off his bottle as he spoke. "And, I don't know the specifics of what he said but when she got home…"

He let out a low whistle and killed the beer in record time. He'd told the bartender to keep 'em coming and another was in its place in the blink of an eye.

"Well, what did she say?" Tara asked, nodding along.

"Not much. I know it ended with her telling me to leave, so here I sit. In a bar."

"You think Rick might've...I dunno, lied to her? Said something to purposely make her mad?"

Shane just snorted.

"Nah, he wouldn't. He's too good for that," Shane answered, believing it. "Plus, ain't the truth bad enough?"

"It is. But she already kinda already knew the truth."

Did she?

Shane grew quiet again, guzzling his beer even if he meant to only nurse it. The morning would bring nothing but regret when his head pounded from the hangover he was guaranteed to have but that was the least of his worries. Maybe he couldn't bounce back from a night of drinking like he could back when they were in the academy but it was the only thing numbing Shane enough to make him keep talking.

"You know what I think it is?" he asked, glancing towards Denise and Tara before looking back over the bar. "You ever go out on a call and there's some sorry son of a bitch there, waiting on you, cuz he knows the cops are coming to haul his ass off? He's just slobberin' everywhere crying, even begs you for one last smoke because he knows where he's going there won't be any. So you do it - hell, you even light it for him while his hands are shaking in his cuffs. While you wait, he stands there, telling you his sappy life story. How his mama never loved him and his daddy beat him around. By the time you throw him in the back of the cruiser you almost feel sorry for him, poor guy never had a chance, right?"

He only paused long enough to finish his beer and wave for another.

"But then you get inside and you see his old lady. She's covered in blood, bruised, the kids are crying in a corner they're so terrified. And she starts tellin' you all kinds of shit he does to her, shit that makes your blood run cold. And any ounce of sympathy you had for that man is gone because you're staring his victim right in the face. Fuck him and his cigarette too. Hell, what do you think always secures a guilty verdict? Ain't nothing more damagin' than a victim's testimony. So yeah, I think it went like that."

His tirade was over, his beer half gone, and Shane really was starting to see double. Starting to sweat too. Tara and Denise staring at him didn't help.

"No," Tara finally spoke. "I can't say I've ever been out on a call like that."

"Well, what do you know? Damn rookie."

For a second he thought he was so drunk that his ears were ringing too but no, it was only Denise's phone. She excused herself and ran towards the door as she answered, Tara finally picking up the conversation again.

"Maybe she just needs some time to let it all sink in."

"Nah, I think that's the problem, it finally did sink in."

"I'm sure-"

"You know what?" Shane asked, hiccuping after the question. "She didn't even want me to touch her. That's how shook up she was. I mean, what the fuck could he have said that was that bad? It don't make sense."

The alcohol was to blame for the sheen of sweat on his skin and for his next words. He never would've said them out loud otherwise.

"It's whatever though. Already lost one best friend, startin' to get used to the feeling. Cheers, right?"

It was with great hesitance that Tara knocked her bottle against Shane's, not that Shane really cared. He drained his dry just the same.

Tara was about to speak, maybe to reassure Shane or offer some friendly advice, but he never got the chance to learn which it would be. Denise was already heading back towards them, her hands grabbing her bag as she stuffed her phone in her back pocket.

"Babe, I gotta go," she said to Tara.

"What's wrong?"

Shane watched the moment Denise's face turned into one he recognized all too well. He'd worn the same expression many times at work. Whenever he scraped a kid off the road because of a drunk driver, whenever a well check revealed a suicide or even, the most recent time, when he'd been the one that had driven to Carl's school to bring Lori the news that her husband had been shot. He'd never been on the receiving end though and he had to the alcohol to thank for how numb he felt when Denise finally spoke again.

"It's Hershel Greene," she whispered, her eyes going to him. "I'm sorry, Shane."

"No."

Suddenly the urge to vomit had nothing to do with the Miller.

"It happened a couple minutes ago," she went on, turning to Tara. "I'm the hospice nurse on call, I'm the one that has to declare him."

"Declare him?" Shane asked, his voice cracking on the word.

Of course, he knew what it meant, he just wanted to have heard her wrong.

"I have to declare the time of death before the funeral home can come to get him," Denise clarified. "I'm sorry, Shane. I know...I'm just. I'm sorry for your loss."

He wanted to argue with her. Surely this wasn't his loss. Not when Shane knew there was a girl a few miles out of town, hurting horribly. Had it been quick? Had Beth kissed his cheek one last time and told her daddy one last goodbye? Still, it didn't explain away the lump that had taken root in his throat, one he washed down with the last of Tara's beer.

The two women began to talk amongst themselves - quick, clipped words that Shane barely registered. At some point, Tara told Denise to take their car and after a quick kiss and an exchange of I love yous, Denise was on her way out the door. Shane stood up, hot on her heels.

"I gotta go," he told Tara, already reaching for his wallet.

"No."

"I gotta go," he repeated. "She's gotta be-"

"Shane, no."

That time Tara pushed him back on the stool. She was stronger than she looked and Shane took great pleasure in objecting with a curse.

"You can't go there," she told him. "Okay? Not right now. I know you want to and it feels like you have to because she's hurting but Shane, for whatever reason she's upset with you. And the last thing she needs is for her very drunk and emotional boyfriend to show up an hour after her dad died. Please, just consider this my first piece of partner advice and listen to me, alright?"

He almost corrected her use of the word boyfriend but he couldn't find his voice, he didn't really trust it. Instead, he glanced around the bar, incapable of focusing on anything, and finally threw enough bills on the bar to cover all of their drinks.

"You can come crash on my couch," Tara went on, sensing his defeat.

"Tara, you don't have to-"

"I do, actually. Denise took our car and you surely can't drive yourself back in this shape. Plus I don't trust you not to go knock on Beth's door. I need your car to get home. I'll drive."

He didn't argue. Just nodded with a grunt before standing up and forcing his swaying legs to follow Tara outside, trying to look more sober than he felt.

Their apartment was only a ten-minute drive and Shane found himself envious of Tara's short commute to work. It was a stupid thought but he needed the distraction.

Normally he would've snooped. Who didn't when they entered someone else's home? Who didn't stare at the pictures on new walls or the decorations another person deemed important enough to display? But it wouldn't have mattered where Shane was, he would've done the exact same thing - collapse onto the couch, not caring anymore who it belonged to or where he was. Tara dug out some extra pillows and a sheet in silence and Shane whispered a quick thanks.

It wasn't until he heard her bedroom close and her shower turn on that he allowed himself to grieve. Not just for Hershel Greene but for everything he'd somehow managed to lose in the last few months.

Why did Maggie's eyes turn such a beautiful shade of green when they were full of tears? Beth sat across from her at the kitchen table, almost envious of her sister's ability to be beautiful even in grief. Her mind was a scattered mess, somehow equal parts numb yet overcrowded, and if it hadn't been for Maggie speaking Beth may have actually told her the ridiculous thought.

"Are you sure you don't want anything to eat?" Maggie asked. "I don't know if I can just...sit here."

"I'm fine," Beth lied.

Truthfully, it'd been so long since she'd eaten that her stomach was starting to tear away at itself, the tea Patricia had made them all sat untouched in front of her. The idea of food was about as appealing as answering Maggie's next question.

"I still feel bad I got here after the funeral home. Do you think I should drive down there...ask to see him?"

"I don't know," Beth answered. "Only you can decide that."

"Would you come with me?"

"I can't."

Beth had seen enough dead bodies to last her a lifetime.

In the end, it hadn't taken long, though in that moment it felt like it'd lasted forever. He was gone before the EMTs even arrived, not that they could've done much - not that Beth would've allowed them to anyway. If she could never apologize to her father for the anger she'd directed at him hours before his death, Beth figured the least she could've done was to finally let him go in peace. It'd simply been her and Patricia seated on opposite sides of him, the anger Beth felt for the other woman temporarily forgotten, both of them holding a hand as they'd watched him take the last breath that would lead him into the next life.

Denise's arrival had brought the tears and now that the sun was starting to rise, Beth's eyes felt like sandpaper and her head was pounding with every beat of her broken heart.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here," Maggie apologized. "I should've been here."

"It's okay," Beth reassured her sister. "You didn't know it was going to happen."

"We all knew it was bound to happen, I never should've left."

"Maggie, please. We both know you couldn't have sat around here this whole time."

Maggie's pretty green eyes weren't the only thing Beth envied, but her guilt too. No one would blame Maggie for being away, except maybe Maggie, and eventually, even she would make peace with it. But Beth? She'd spent the last day of her dad's life hating him. There was no making peace with that, not ever.

Of course, the last few moments of his life had been different. He'd been her dad again, not the adulterer Patricia had told her about. It wasn't an affair she'd thought about as he slipped away but all the other things - the things that mattered. Him putting his work on pause every day when he'd picked her up from school, teaching her everything about his job, his smiling face when she'd walked across the stage at college graduation - all the things that had made him an amazing father, despite the one fact that didn't. The hurt was still there but at the end of the day, when it was all said and done, all that mattered was that Beth had loved him and she wanted nothing more than to hear his voice one more time.

But knowing she'd walked by his room without saying she loved him one last time would haunt her for life.

"I'm just sorry you had to be here alone," Maggie finally spoke again, bringing Beth's attention back to her face. "I can't imagine how hard that was. I couldn't do it."

"She wasn't alone."

It was Patricia that answered, finally coming downstairs to join them.

"I was here. Don't beat yourself up, Maggie. Even if she'd been alone, she would've been okay. Beth isn't a little girl, you know."

Beth met the older woman's eyes and simply gave her nod. That hurt was still there too, the anger as well, but Beth had no energy to direct it anywhere. And did it really matter either?

What gave Beth the right to hate Patricia for being there? For whatever reason the woman had stuck by her father's side for decades and Beth's by extension. Maybe she had committed the worst type of betrayal to their mother but had she not spent decades making up for it? Beth both hated her and loved her and she knew it wasn't the time or the place to decide which side of the scale was heavier. Maybe it'd always be balanced.

"Well, I finished making phone calls," Patricia continued when neither girl replied. "This way everyone knows and will give us peace for a bit before they come dragging their sad casseroles around."

"Thank you, Patricia," Maggie answered.

"You know you don't have to thank me. Y'all sure you don't want anything to eat? If not I'm gonna head to bed and try to sleep."

"We're fine," Beth told her. "Thank you."

"You wanna head to bed too?" Maggie asked as soon as Patricia had left. "I know you've been up all night."

It was true but it didn't make Beth anymore inclined to sleep. There was no way her brain was going to turn off, not anytime soon. Would it ever?

"I can't sleep right now."

"Me either. We could do something productive?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know…" Maggie answered, looking around. "I know it sounds bad but I could help you pack if you want."

"Pack?"

The confusion only lasted for a second, a blissfully ignorant second, before the realization hit Beth like a ton of bricks. And she was already so weary from the load she was carrying.

"Like, the house?" She asked, just to be sure.

"God it sounds awful, doesn't it? But I don't know what else to do. Daddy always said idle hands are the devil's playground. And judging by the looks of things...you definitely need the help."

Beth just sat still, her mouth half-open as she worked up the courage to say the words she knew were needed.

"I mean don't get me wrong, Beth. The kitchen looks amazing. But if you're coming with me...a lot needs to be put away. Your room, at least."

Finally, she sat back and crossed her arms, taking a few deep breaths before answering.

"Maggie, please. Can we not do this right now?"

"Pack? No, of course not. But it will need to be done, maybe after the funeral."

"No...I just mean this conversation. It isn't how I wanted to do this."

"What conversation?" Maggie asked, her voice barely above a whisper like she was afraid of the answer.

Beth sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. She was thankful her tears had dried but she wished the numbness would come back. It would've made her next words so much easier.

"I didn't want to tell you this way, okay? Really, I didn't. But...I'm not selling the farm."

"But Beth, you agreed with me-"

"I changed my mind," Beth said, finally glancing up to match her sister's stubborn stare. "I can't. And I won't."

They both sat silently, Beth preparing herself for a fight. The day was never-ending, why not add another problem to the pile? If Maggie wanted to badger her, Beth knew her way to her bedroom. It wouldn't change her decision but maybe it'd end an unwanted argument.

But Maggie's next words weren't the objection Beth expected. Just a reminder of yet another voice she so desperately wanted to hear one more time.

"Is this about Shane?" Maggie asked, her southern accent always coming on strong whenever she was sassy.

It'd been easy to push her thoughts of him to the side, even when Denise had told Beth that he was with Tara. There was only so much room in anyone's brain for pain and suffering. She'd simply blocked him out. Until now, until his name was rolling off Maggie's lips and Beth wanted nothing more than to sink her face into his chest and forget the last few hours.

"What?"

That was all she could manage to get out, her heart slowly beating back to life at the mere mention of his name.

"You do realize talk ain't confined to city limits, right? I have a phone, Beth. One of the old church ladies called me up and told me she saw y'all holding hands and rocking on the porch when she stopped to see daddy. I told her to get her eyes checked and hung up. Thought maybe the old bat finally went blind."

"Maybe she was," Beth replied. "I'm not her eye doctor."

"Don't be smart."

When Beth failed to answer, her hand caught in the cookie jar, Maggie went on.

"Judging by your lack of an objection I think her vision was just fine."

Finally, Beth just shrugged, wincing when the sudden pain made her head pound harder. It wasn't how she'd wanted this conversation to happen either but when did anything ever go as planned?

The plan had never been to even like Shane. She'd simply wanted his help. Beth had never intended to look forward to their conversations or to welcome him into her bed, to not only know what he sounded like in his most intimate moments but to moan his name when he moved inside of her. She'd never meant to push him away either. She was supposed to have tolerated his presence, at best. Not ache for it.

"You're serious?" Maggie asked when Beth still failed to give a straight answer, her voice rising just a touch. Beth knew if her sister wasn't weighed down by grief the volume of their conversation would've exploded. "I know we all go through that bad boy phase but that man is-"

"Not what you think," Beth finished for her. "No one is, Maggie. Look, do we really need to do this right now? Is it really the best time?"

"There will never be a good time for this. You slept with him?"

Beth shot her sister a death stare, answering with her eyes instead of her words.

"I can't believe this. I knew he was trouble but I didn't think he'd touch you, not after what all Daddy did for him. Jesus, Beth. What do you think Daddy would think if he…"

"It's not like that," Beth answered.

Maybe she shouldn't have bothered defending Shane to Rick but she damn sure wouldn't let Maggie drag his name. Beth was positive she had a better grip on Shane, their dad too, for that matter. Although some secrets would be buried with Hershel Greene, she could spare her sister that much.

"Well if he's so great, why isn't he here? Your dad just died and he's…?"

Lying seemed like the best option. But Beth knew it would all eventually come out anyway. This wouldn't be the end of Maggie's questions, just the beginning, they'd come hard and fast once everything settled down.

"I was upset with him earlier, before anything happened, so I asked him to leave...and he did."

"What did he do?"

"Nothing," Beth sighed, leaning on the table and adding pressure to her temples.

Looking up to meet Maggie's eyes, she finally saw the first hints of softness since Shane's name had been brought up. Maybe her sister finally had a grasp on how long Beth's day had really been or maybe she too was just losing steam.

"Still," Maggie continued. "Is this really what you want? The farm? Without Daddy? Without...Shane? I told you last time that this is what would happen, that it'd just be you all alone in this house. Please. Just come to Atlanta, me and Glenn cleared out the spare bedroom. We want you with us."

"But I don't want that," Beth answered after a deep breath. "I don't. No matter how I feel about Shane or about Daddy-"

"What about Daddy?"

"His death, I mean," Beth recovered, suddenly feeling exhausted at the realization she'd have to hide her father's secrets forever. "None of that matters. The only thing worse than losing everyone would be losing everyone and this house. I want to be here. I've made it mine. I don't want to live anywhere else, I'm sorry."

"I wish you'd change your mind."

"I won't. If it makes you feel any better, I want to sell off some acres. You and Glenn take the money from it, I get the house. It's somewhat fair."

"You know it was never about the money."

"I know," Beth agreed. "But I still want you to have it."

Maggie didn't object but Beth knew the war wasn't over. It was just an extremely small victory that brought little comfort.

The temperature was rising quickly when Beth finally decided to call it a night. Or a day? Not that it mattered, she knew there'd be no sleep, not anytime soon. But laying in bed feeling awful seemed more appealing than arguing with her sister while feeling awful. She dismissed herself while Maggie volunteered to stay up, waiting for her husband, Glenn, to arrive after staying back to wrap things up at home and finding a dogsitter.

There was a little guilt when she finally collapsed into her bed. Beth didn't want to leave her sister all alone with her grief but she was too spent to offer any more comfort. The next day they'd have a funeral to plan. But in the meantime, if Beth couldn't sleep, she figured she could at least try to make sense of the jumbled mess in her brain and think about both of the men she was missing.

When Shane woke up, if it could even be called that, his head wasn't pounding nearly as bad as he'd expected. Then again, his trick to avoiding a hangover had always been to never fall asleep drunk and despite all the alcohol, he'd still managed to accomplish sobering up before passing out. Not that it'd been hard. The sky had been turning pink by the time he eventually dozed off and judging by Tara's cable box he was waking up less than two hours later.

Peeling himself from the couch, he felt every bit his age.

Sneaking out of a woman's apartment wasn't anything he hadn't done before, although it was the first time he'd ever hung around long enough to guzzle a bottle of water and write a quick thank-you note on the whiteboard that they had hanging on their fridge. Grabbing his keys, he snuck out before anyone even knew he was awake.

He'd meant to head straight back to the farm but for whatever reason, the cruiser seemed to have a mind of its own and before Shane could turn around he was parked outside the Grimes residence. What was he planning to say? He didn't know.

And judging by the bare windows and the for sale sign that hung in the yard now reading sold, he'd never know what it was he'd wanted to tell Rick because he was too late to say anything at all. Gone were Carl's outdoor toys that had always littered the lawn, Lori's bird feeder, even the welcome mat had been packed away. Shane just stared out his windshield, not quite believing that they were gone, that whatever it was he'd wanted to say...it'd have to sit inside him for eternity.

Rick would never hear the words that Shane wanted to scream at him or the apologies either. What would one more apology have hurt? It couldn't have made Rick hate him any more than he already did but maybe it would've been the only thing that could've saved Shane from never meeting his daughter. And if Rick wouldn't budge, maybe Lori.

Maybe Shane could've begged her one last time not to do this to him. No matter how little they'd really meant to each other in the end, their actions had created a life together, equal parts both of them. Surely, he could've made her understand. Judging by her guilty confession in the park, she already did.

Finally, Shane just sighed and began fishing in his pocket for his phone.

Maybe he'd missed one shot but that didn't mean he had to miss two.

He held the phone to his ear, bracing himself for her voicemail to pick up. When it was her voice that greeted him instead, Shane gripped the phone tighter.

"Shane?" Beth asked, sounding scratchy.

"Hey," he answered, just taking a moment to absorb her voice.

He could hear her shuffling around and imagined her sitting up in bed. Was she as relieved to hear him as he was to hear her?

"I heard about your dad."

"Yeah," she replied, her voice flat. "It happened so fast and it was just...God, it was horrific. I thought I was ready, you know?"

"I know. I'm sorry."

He stayed silent for a moment when he heard the unmistakable sound of her sniffling, waiting for her to get it out before he spoke again.

"I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"No. I almost wish you had, at least that would mean I was still capable of sleeping."

She attempted to laugh after the statement but Shane could hear the struggle.

"You will again, I promise."

"I know but I'm just laying here…" she trailed off, sighing into the phone. "I want to explain to you why I-"

"Hey, listen to me," he said, cutting her off. "You don't owe me any explanations."

"But I do. And I wanted to apologize-"

"No," he interrupted again. "Your dad just died. Don't worry about me right now, alright?"

"I just feel bad."

"Well, don't. I can take it, I promise. Now isn't the time," he told her, lowering his voice and wishing she was close enough to reach out towards.

Instead, he settled for leaning his head back and switching the phone to his other ear. He could hear her doing the same - settling back down into bed, he could recognize the sound of her mattress springs anywhere.

"Where are you?"

Shane actually laughed before answering. Not because it was funny though.

"I'm parked outside Rick's house."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, but they ain't here so a lot of good it does me, huh?'

"What were you gonna do?"

"No idea," he admitted. "I'm about to head back to my place though if that's okay."

"Of course it's okay."

"You want me to come over to you?"

Shane knew he was pushing his luck but he'd always been the type to take a mile when given an inch.

"It's not a good time," she finally answered after a long pause. And if it wasn't for her next words it may have been a fatal blow. "Maggie's already here. She found out about...us. I don't know, I just-"

"I get it," he answered truthfully. "Her dad just died too. No need to upset her more, right?"

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing to me, alright?"

He could hear her voice relaxing and growing softer when she spoke again.

"You'll come to the funeral though, right?"

"Of course."

"Good."

Another long pause and Shane knew her eyelids were probably starting to close, her next words were nothing more than a mumble.

"Did you really stay the night at Tara's?"

"Yeah, her couch is uncomfortable as shit by the way."

He heard Beth struggle to laugh again. Not because she was hurting this time but because one foot was already in her dreams.

"I was kinda disappointed I didn't get to snoop," he went on, knowing soon she'd stop answering. But at least she'd be sleeping and he could give her that much if nothing else. "They got a nice little place, considering her salary. Rookies don't make shit. Thought about drawing a dirty picture on their whiteboard but I don't know if they'd appreciate it very much."

When he paused, Beth was silent. Still, he stayed on the line for a few more minutes, making sure she was finally out before he started the engine and put the car in the drive.