"Does anyone sing?"

It's an innocent enough question, asked lightly by Tara as they sit around a campfire, eating the few squirrels that Daryl managed to bring down that day, but the silence that meets it is deafening. Maggie's face loses all its colour while Daryl's throat constricts, the meat he was in the process of swallowing almost choking him.

"What?" Tara asks, confused, "What did I say?"

"Beth used to sing," Carol replies quietly, grief evident in her voice. "Had the voice of an angel she did, sometimes it was the only thing that could calm Judith when she was upset."

Maggie has set the rest of her food aside, even as Glenn murmurs to her in a low voice, trying to get her to pick it up again as she shakes her head, turning her face away from them all.

"Things used to feel almost normal when she would sing," Carl comments, before looking down to his baby sister in his arms, quiet, as if listening to them talk about the girl who had once raised her.

They're all quiet, thinking back on those days at the prison and the one that is no longer with them, and then Daryl hears himself clear his throat, about to offer something to them.

"She still sang... after." He admits, and feels Maggie's gaze on him through the darkness. "She still sang, right till the end."

The admission costs him, and he breathes out on a shaky sigh. He won't admit to them that he still hears her singing in his head, every song he ever heard from her and even some he never did.

He hasn't told anyone about the dream he had two nights ago, so real that when he woke up he reached out for her, the renewed loss of her aching like a hole in his chest. He'd slept better than he had in weeks, the feeling of her fingers in his hair, her sweet voice in his ear, and just before he had fallen into a dreamless sleep, the soft brush of a kiss upon his brow.

Since that night, he has slept easier, the images of her death no longer coming to him every time he closes his eyes. It hasn't made his grief any less, but somehow since that night he's felt as if she's closer, as if she's there with him. And she is, the voice in his ear whenever he's in doubt, the weight in his heart where she made her home.

"Maggie used to sing with her sometimes," Glenn breaks in, reaching out to take his wife's hand. "Maybe..."

But Maggie shakes her head and removes her hand from his, getting up from the circle to walk into the darkness. Glenn sighs, passing a hand over his face, then gets up to follow her.

There are no songs that night, except for the one that rings between Daryl's ears when he closes his eyes.

"Your faith was strong, but you needed proof..."

Halfway to DC, Maggie tries to kill herself.

They're camping out in an old two story house when they're awakened by a shout, at least 5 people immediately running to the room where Glenn grapples with her, a gun lying in the corner as if knocked from a hand as she struggles against him, wailing.

Rick rushes forward to help restrain her as she kicks and struggles and cries. They pin her to the wall, half slumped to the floor, Rick's voice kept low and soothing until she finally gives up, her body becoming limp

"Why, Maggie?" Glenn asks her, his voice breaking with the question. "Why would you try to do this?"

She huddles in on herself, hugging her knees and shaking her head. "There's no point anymore," she sobs, "Beth... I didn't allow myself to hope, didn't look for her, and then she was just gone, just gone. What hope do any of us have? What's the point in fighting anymore?"

"And people think you were the strong one," Daryl scoffs, "Beth sure as hell wouldn't give up so easy. Fought till the last moment, would've kept fighting, whether you were dead or alive. Think you're honourin' her by doing this?"

"What do you know about it, Dixon?" Maggie spits out at him, her grief easily turning to anger. "You spend a few weeks with her and you think you know it all? Beth needed protecting and I let her down. I wasn't there for her when the prison fell, wasn't there for her after. She was my little sister and I couldn't keep her safe."

"Can't keep anybody safe these days, no matter how hard you try." Daryl replies, crouching down to her eye level, "Tried to protect her and I failed, should I off myself too? Think she would want that?" He fixes her with a hard stare, almost chokes on his next words, "You're not the only one hurtin', not the only one who lost her."

"You think you know how I feel?" Maggie's voice is scathing, cutting through the air like a knife, "She was my sister! My only living blood! What was she to you that you walk around these days like you're broken by it? You say you protected her, did she trade you somethin' in return for that protection, huh, Daryl? Is that why you won't talk about when you were with her?" She's uncurled herself now from her protective ball, leaning forward as if to attack him while Glenn keeps a restraining hand on her shoulder, his eyes wide at her words, "You lay your hands on my baby sister? That why you think you get to share my grief?"

He knows she's hurting, knows she's looking for someone to blame, but Daryl thinks he might never forgive Maggie for those words

"Weren't like that," he hisses, "Weren't never like that. Think I'm that sort of man? You really know me that little after all these years, that you think I'm just some asshole redneck wantin' to take advantage of girls?"

The hurt bubbles up in him, as does the old darkness, the feeling of worthlessness - that he's less to all of them than the dirt on their shoes. He looks around at the shocked faces, everyone stunned by Maggie's outburst.

But Daryl doesn't allow it to overtake him as it once would've, he breathes in deeply and imagines her voice - You gotta stay who you are, not who you were.

Beth Greene was the only person alive in this godforsaken world that truly knew the man he'd become, the man he was becoming, who believed in that man. Let Maggie think what she wants in her anger, Daryl knows he's more than that. Ain't never been what she thinks of him.

"You don't know nothin' about it," he continues forcefully, resisting the urge to spit on the floor. "You dying won't bring her back, won't change all the things you didn't do for her. Won't do anything except relieve you of your own guilt, pass it on to Glenn instead. Damn selfish is what it is, Maggie."

He storms out of the room then, unable to contain himself any longer and pausing only to pick up his crossbow on the way out. He's said his piece, said more than he intended, now let her live or die as she chooses - it's not his business anymore.

He stays in the woods that night. It's a mercy to have an excuse not to sleep, but he thinks on Beth anyway, remembers long nights they'd spent outdoors under the stars. As the weather had grown colder, she had begun to curl in closer to him while he took watch, her head tucked in beside his leg, her fingertips sometimes brushing his thigh, and he... he had allowed himself the same small luxuries when he lay down to take his own rest, a hand barely touching her knee; once he had woken up to find himself gripping the ankle of her boot tightly as if afraid she might disappear in his sleep.

Had he laid his hands upon her? Every chance he got. A hand cupping her elbow, or placed on her shoulder for a moment to guide her, a slight pressure on the small of her back. Serious piggy backs and bridal carries to the breakfast table. Hadn't he allowed himself that much of her, tentatively reaching for just that little bit more day by day? And Beth, she had never seen any wrong in it, in the softness of her beneath his hard hands. Instead she'd reached out for her own comfort, holding his hand, leaning against his shoulder. Every time she had touched him, it was if she was building him up again, stone by stone, carefully smoothing over the cracks to help make him a whole man.

Daryl might have had his hands upon her, but he'd never intended anything by it, never expected more than he was granted. It had taken him time to build up the courage to even allow himself to wish for more, to come to the realisation that he would welcome it if she would only offer it. It was something he'd never considered, but somewhere along the way her gentle smiles and quiet way had kindled something in him, a spark that even now still burns, burns him up from within.

Maggie couldn't have been more wrong, because Daryl knows he would never have asked anything more of Beth, that he would have been content with only those small touches, those bright pieces of her, for the rest of his life if that was all she wanted.

He'll go back in the morning, when Maggie's words are no longer ringing in his ears, when the wounds she reopened aren't so raw. For tonight he'll walk through the dark woods, and if he closes his eyes for just a moment perhaps he can pretend Beth is just behind him, close enough to reach out and touch.

You'll miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl Dixon, she had said, and oh how she'd been right. Just when he'd grown used to her light, to her easy affection, to the happiness she'd brought, just when he'd begun to hope that this could be their life, that he could have a small claim to such goodness, and then she was just gone. There won't be any other light now, no hand entwined in his, there will never be another. He had his chance and he lost it, and he cannot bring himself to want it with anyone else no matter how much time passes.

Maggie wonders why he won't speak of it, but Daryl can't bring himself to explain, no matter what her suspicions are. He had never hoped for such things as what Beth brought him, not only a warmth, but also a belonging, of each of them to the other. He'd never known he could have that, never believed that he deserved it. While he may have lost her, he still has the memory of it, and that's his and his alone to treasure, a talisman to carry with him.

He will carry her with him for the rest of his life, the weight of her there with him every step upon the way, heavier than her body ever was.

A/N Once again, a huge thanks to everyone who has favourited, followed, and reviewed, particularly the reviewers, it really is the best inspiration to keep writing. A special shout out to Natercia, who I could not reply to - thank you for such a beautiful comment, you made my day :)