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The sweltering evenings of the past week made it nearly impossible to sleep. So tonight’s breeze was a God send. Almost everyone was settled in and sleeping soundly.
Daryl, on watch, stared into the woods, listening to the soft snoring and random mumbling of the group and wondered idly how many people still walked the Earth as they did. Not the rotting corpses but the breathers. The live people looking for shelter and food. The good people Beth had promised were still out there.
He was beginning to doubt more and more that there was another decent soul out there. As the days drug on and more miles were put under his feet he was slowly losing hope he'd ever see that beaming smile again. If she was gone, and he refused to believe she was anything more than that, then clearly there were no good people left. None. If she was gone, then they all were. End of story.
He sighed to himself. He hated thinking about her, even though it was impossible not to do so. She was everywhere he looked. Hell, even the night’s breeze made him think of her. But the crying baby? She made him long for Beth. The poor kid wouldn't be nearly as upset right now if she had her ‘little momma'. He hadn't dared to call Beth that to her face, or in front of Rick, but he'd come to call her that in his thoughts. Judith deserved a momma like Beth. The poor kid would never know Lori, her birth mom, and there wasn't a soul in the camp that could do a better job than Beth had.
Even the kids own daddy couldn't get her to giggle the way Beth did.
Rick exited the tent he shared with his kids, holding Judith to his chest.
"Shh baby girl, Daddy's right here," He cooed and made his way to Daryl.
"Think she's hungry," Rick stated but it sounded more like a question, not really knowing what was wrong with the child. She cried and strained against his arms. Rick was clearly not who she wanted right now.
"Here, let me try," Daryl offered and held out his arms.
Daryl loved kids. Always had. He never spent any real lengthy amount of time around them though, mostly because a hick like him wasn't exactly baby-sitting material. He could recall more than one occasion of a mother skirting across the road with her little ones to avoid being anywhere near him. But then, he also remembered being young himself and taking care of the even younger kids in his neighborhood. The ones whose parents were just as worthless as his own. Even Merle had helped him with those kids. (He also knew secretly that Merle loved taking care of those kids the way he had, even when Merle called him a pansy for it.)
So when Judith had come along, he didn't even try to hide the joy the kid bought him. He held her as often as he could. Helped Beth feed her and hold her when she was fussy. Beth would tease him back at the prison for being a softy and he'd curse and call her an idiot.
He fuckin missed Beth.
Judith nestled into Daryl's neck and hiccupped her breaths for a few moments. She was tired and while the crying had almost stopped, Daryl could tell it was only a matter of minutes before she started again.
"Take over," Daryl whispered to Rick and stood from his perch. Rick grabbed the shotgun and filled Daryl's seat.
"Shh, I gotch'ya kiddo," He mumbled to the baby and she grabbed at his shoulder before she began to whine again.
He walked away from the camp, just out of hearing range and sat down in the grass. He patted the baby on her back and rocked her.
Instantly he was back at the prison, watching Beth pace the small walk-way with Judith tucked nicely in her arms. The baby whimpering as Beth sang her favorite lullaby.
And before he could stop it, Daryl started to hum.
It wasn’t a song he really knew before but he could recall every word and every note now. And Judith responded. She sniffled and looked up at Daryl's face with curious eyes. His heart skipped a beat. Her eyes telling him she recognized the tune and that his voice wasn't the one who should be singing it.
She missed Beth too and it broke his heart.
"You 'member that one?" He said softly and felt the prickle of something in the corner of his eyes, "Yeah, that's a good one isn't it?" And he continued to rock the little girl.
Rick would never tell Daryl he could hear him that night. And Daryl would never admit he'd done it. But Rick could hear the low rumble of Daryl's voice as he sang, the gravel from too many cigarettes causing him to be terribly off key. But he sang anyway. And soon the little girl was back in Rick's arms and sleeping soundly.
"Told her to shut up or I'd feed her to the Walkers, knocked her right out..." Daryl smiled but Rick saw the glaze to his eyes.
"Yeah, you're a mean son of bitch," Rick chuckled. “Thanks,” He said sincerely and walked back towards his tent.
Daryl waited until he heard the zipper shut before he turned back to his spot. He sat there a long while with a million thoughts of baby blue eyes, a hundred different songs sung by one voice and braided blonde hair raced through his head.
"You knew I'd miss you..." He mumbled to the Beth in his head and let one lone tear fall from his eye.