A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has read, commented, and everything else. I hope you have enjoyed this as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

This is the last segment but I may end up writing a companion piece if the inspiration strikes. :)

Enjoy!

It's never been easy for Daryl to apologize. He's awful enough with words as it is, but add in the fact that he's at fault (which, if he's being honest, is the majority of the damn time) and he's completely lost. He ponders on it heavily though, the next day at work, and the day after that. He spends a whole week contemplating how he goes about telling Beth 'I'm sorry' without actually having to say it. Because two little words isn't going to make up for all the things he threw at her.

He's not mad at her, and he never was. But he does get pissed off at the thought of having to crack himself up and let her rummage through all his ghosts and dark corners. Rummaging isn't the right word... he knows she would never be careless. Beth's intentions are always pure, she's so fucking pure, that it amazes him how dark her normally bright eyes can turn when they're all hands and mouths. The thought of her makes him ache, in every sense of the word, because he had grown so used to touching her nearly every day.

It's the little things he misses most, like the feel of her eyelashes fluttering on his chest as she drifts into sleep and how she always threw her legs up into his lap when they were lounging around. It bothered him at first but beneath that, he realized how much he admired her confidence and appreciated how comfortable she was around him.

It's Friday, mid-morning, and he hasn't seen her face or heard her voice in nearly 120 hours. It makes him itch painfully like no other, and the memory of her smile has been haunting him since he rode his bike away from her. He's spent the week wearing himself out with work, till his bones make him feel like his body's about to give out. He's getting too old to take out his frustrations in manual labor, he muses wryly.

Daryl may be shit with apologies but he's also shit at giving up.

He doesn't even let anyone know that he's stepping out for a break; he just makes his way across the street to Maryann's, sweat gathered along his forehead and dirt stains covering his work clothes. The door jingles as always and he's there, he's ready, but Beth's not the one behind the counter. It's one of the other waitresses, Karen, that Daryl vaguely knows.

She recognizes him instantly and shoots a look his way that's equal parts pity and disdain. But she nods towards the back of the diner anyway and without hesitation, Daryl makes his way towards the back, ignoring the hand-painted 'STAFF ONLY' sign swinging above the doorway.

Daryl spots her sitting outside the screen door on the steps, legs crossed at her ankles like she's all proper. Even just the sight of the back of her head makes his chest twinge in a way he'll never get used to.

"'m I ever gonna get my shirt back?" The words come out of nowhere and while he hadn't planned on what he was gonna say, he knows the second he speaks that it's the absolute wrong thing to start with.

It startles her though, her shoulders jerking as she looks up through the screen at him. Her face contorts from shock to a forced blankness. "You really came over here to ask about your stupid shirt?" He expected more bite, more bitterness, and he has to think that it's good that she's not attacking him more. But her inability to meet his eye is painful, because he knows the feeling. It took months for him to even hold her gaze for a moment; what he wouldn't give for that right now.

"Yeah. Well, no." He pauses and waits for Beth to give him anything, but she doesn't move from her spot, her shoulders square and high. A honeybee buzzes around her ponytail and he opens the creaky door to swat it away from her. "You ain't never seen my place. And I guess I thought that wasn't too fair." It's better than what he had started with but there's a nagging thought in the back of his mind that it sounds too suggestive. Daryl settles down beside her, maybe purposely brushing his arm against hers, and she notices it. Neither speaks for sometime and that's okay. He likes the peace of nature and pretends he can hear her steady breaths over the humming of insects.

"You never invited me before."

"Yeah. Guess 'cause it ain't much but it's mine, so I suppose you should see it. If ya wanna, I mean." It's his own way of pleading his case and asking for another chance; he's hoping that she gets it. And by her half smile, he assumes she does.

"I gotta hop back in there. Come by after noon?" she asks, her face tickled pink. It's probably from the rising summer heat but Daryl entertains another idea.

Nodding at her, she stands and smooths out the back of her yellow uniform dress. She's on her way back in when Daryl notices a glint in the sunlight; she left her name badge on step. He picks it up with his thumb and index finger, noting remnants of the purple smily face. It looks like she tried to peel it off with little success and something inside Daryl's chest aches.

"Beth," he calls out, turning his torso to hold up the badge. She slips it into her hand gingerly but not before wrapping her fingers around his and giving them a small squeeze. The door snaps shut and Daryl spends a while enjoying the singing of cicadas.

Daryl's place has always been a bit dull. There's not much that make it homey; he really only spent time sleeping there before Beth. But gradually, she starts making it a more pleasant place to be. Some of her belongings find their way over there, clothing and a toothbrush because as she tells Daryl, 'I'll kiss ya till the cows come up but sharin' a toothbrush is nasty!'

It's probably in his head, but he swears his apartment even begins smelling like her. Sweet and clean.

She drags him out more and properly introduces him to her sister. Maggie is a lot like her, a bit more aggressive, but Daryl thinks they balance each other out well. And while she doesn't fear asking him what his intentions are and blatantly questioning their age difference, he seems to pass whatever test she gives. He meets her husband too, Glenn, and the two men hit it off well. Daryl's never really had a good friend before.

The four spend Thanksgiving together and it's so peculiar, so weird. Daryl's never experienced many family holidays like this, with everyone gathered around and beaming at one another. Maggie looks like a balloon ready to pop, waddling around the dining room and trying to set up the table, only to have Glenn swoop in like she's incapable of placing napkins while pregnant.

It's strange, that's for sure, but every passing moment has Daryl enjoying it more. Feeling like he's a part of a family, like there are people in his corner that seem to care about him, is so astonishing. And he knows just how lucky he is.

Beth sneaks up behind him and wraps her arms around his waist. "Hey," is all she whispers.

"Hey yourself." He smiles down at her easily.

"You look happy."

"Guess I am." And for the first time in a long while, he really is.

"Maggie's in labor!"

Daryl hadn't expected a call from Beth in the middle of the night and seeing her name flash on his phone sent a wave of panic through his body. But he allows himself to relax, still shaking the sleep from his head as she continues babbling on about babies and aunts and oh, she's so glad that it's a girl. She also tells him he should stop by the hospital after work and that makes his heart stop.

"I don't want to be a bother," he argues weakly, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand on end at the thought of spending such an intimate evening with Beth and her family. It wasn't his place, that was too personal and he knows he'd feel like he was invading.

"She wants you here, her and Glenn both. Please?" It's not up for discussion at that point and he knows that, based on the sing-songy way she asks. He grunts, reluctantly, into the phone and Beth's smile is easily audible. "Good! I'll see you later, okay? Love you."

She's disconnected before he can even process what she's said. The words echo in his ear and it seems like hours before Daryl drops his phone in his lap and collapses back onto his bed. He's only been told that a handful of times in his life, by his mother; certainly never by his dad and not by Merle. What constituted love, anyway? Caring about someone deeply? Being willing to do anything for them? If that's the case, then Daryl knows for a fact he loves Beth too. But sometimes tells him it's not as simple as that. And she had said it so simply, like it was uttered to him every day.

The day drags on, stupid words replaying in his head and terrifying thoughts of making a baby wail haunting him. He cuts out early and makes sure to clean himself up the best he can in the workers' bathroom sink. It's a different feeling, going from burying the dead to visiting a newborn for the first time. But that's the circle of life, he considers.

Hospitals are very sterile and not someplace Daryl enjoys being. He associates them with vague childhood memories, people poking and prodding but usually not asking him the right questions. He shakes the shudder from his shoulders and makes his way to the room Beth had texted him. Knocking on the doorframe, he cautiously pokes his head inside.

Maggie's perched in the bed, looking exhausted but radiant all the same. And Glenn, whom through the months Daryl's grown pretty fond of, sits beside her. The grin stretched across his face looks painful but completely genuine. Beth is there too of course, sitting straight up in her chair and leaning forward towards the bundle in her sister's arms. But Daryl quickly steals her attention and she flashes him the most adoring look before waving him over.

The room is dimly lit but cozy; he spots a pain chart on the wall, the smiling 'zero' face circled in purple marker.

His hands are awkwardly shoved in his pockets as he peers down at the baby, all pink faced and innocent. His chest constricts and he can feel himself smiling automatically. "Congratulations. She's... she's somthin'." Everyone laughs happily, as if there's not a care in the world, and there's really not in this moment. Daryl's eyes are transfixed on the baby and he barely feels Beth squeeze his forearm as he speaks up again. "Can I hold her?"

Beth's face is the only one that registers as surprise, Maggie simply giving him a warm look and carefully passing her daughter off into his arms.

She's lighter than he expects and he gets why people say things feel as soft as baby's skin. It's a bizarre feeling that washes over him, arms rocking ever so slowly. "Hey there, little thing," he murmurs.

Daryl's never been around kids much; before this, he probably would've said he was indifferent towards them. But this is a moment in which he knows he's changed, and he hopes Beth can see that too.

It's a new year somehow, January slowly coming to a close. Daryl always thought it was stupid how people say things like 'new year, new you'. It resonates with him a bit this year though, even if he realizes he began changing months ago. Hell, it was probably the moment he met Beth, and he knows that deep down. But it seems a little stupid to admit aloud.

She's hunkered down on her piano bench, playing a slow, soft song. He can barely hear her voice from the bedroom but it's there and it draws him in. Ignoring the freezing floor beneath his bare feet, he silently makes his way over to her and joins her on the bench.

"I'll leave the light on so you know I'm at home. You can come in, you won't be alone..."

Her playing continues but her voice drifts off, flicking hair out of her eyes as she smiles up at him. Beth's wearing one of his shirts, a habit she's grown fond of, the neck hole too big and slightly drooping off her shoulder. It's calling out to him and he's tempted to press his mouth on the warm exposed skin, but she interrupts him.

"It's funny how some things happen, ya know?" Daryl thinks the question is rhetorical and maybe she would have asked it out loud even if he wasn't next to her. He knows he doesn't have to say anything but he's in an alright mood for conversation right now.

"You mean us?" She nods her head once before dropping her gaze to her hands still on the piano keys. They turn over and she rubs a finger along the pink scars of her skin.

"I just wanted everything to be over. When my mom and brother died, it was like, what was the point? And I didn't think about daddy or Maggie... it was so selfish. The moment I did it, I felt so ashamed. I still do."

"Ya shouldn't," he interrupts her and it catches Beth off guard because he rarely does that. She smiles over at him though, taking his hand in both of hers and holding it tightly. Daryl hadn't expected this to be the moment that she tells him her deepest secrets. Part of him thought that maybe she never would and that was fine, he understood that, more than most people probably would. And then it strikes him. "You want to know about mine?" Her face drops instantly.

"What? No, god, Daryl. No, I didn't bring this up to make you feel like you needed to tell me." She squeezes his hand reassuringly and he's sure she's telling the truth but he simply shrugs. And talks, awkwardly, in incomplete sentences and not very specific details. Beth is quiet and while he's built up the nerve to tell her about his past, he still doesn't want to be showered with pity. And always being one to surprise him, she doesn't say anything of the sort.

"You'll be an amazin' dad, ya know. I knew it the moment I saw you hold Molly in the hospital." It is said so casually, just like the first time she said the love word. It makes his mind spin and images of babies and a house that's not some shithole apartment and a very pregnant Beth flood his head. "I see that, you bein' a great dad."

Daryl swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. "What makes you so sure?"

Her eyes light up and soften at the same time, and she laughs ever so lightly, reaching her hand to his face and cupping his cheek. "'Cause I see you."