The title of the story and the song Beth's singing are both from "Lullaby" by the Dixie Chicks.

Everybody seems to think it's kinda funny or odd, or something, but Daryl's always been good with babies.

When he was a kid, the girl next door would leave her baby at his place while she went to work her shift cleaning rooms at the motel out by the highway. She was young, real young, and on her own with a baby in a trailer with a busted toilet. Daryl's mom felt sorry for her, so most afternoons when Daryl wandered home from school, or from wherever he'd been instead of school, he'd find himself on the couch watching reruns of Alice and The Brady Bunch next to little Tammy Parsons, strawberry blonde and all of 10 months old.

On good days, his mom would sit at the kitchen table in her pink chenille bathrobe and cut coupons and smoke her menthol lights, humming under her breath and making little jokes about the things on TV. On bad days, she'd hole up in her bedroom and they wouldn't see her at all, and Daryl would find himself heating saucepans of formula on the hot plate and wincing as Tammy teethed on the knuckle of his forefinger.

That's how Daryl got to know how to deal with babies, those long afternoons with Tammy Parsons, until her young mama got busted for something and the state took Tammy away and a biker and his old lady moved into the trailer next door.

It's Tammy Parsons he thinks of when, heading to his cell after his shift on watch, he finds Beth sitting alone in the empty, moonlit courtyard. She sits at one of the picnic tables, Lil' Asskicker fussing in her arms, the cool moonlight on her fair skin and hair almost making her glow. She looks beat, dark circles under her eyes. As Daryl approaches, he can hear her singing softly.

"They didn't have you where I come from, never knew the best was yet to come."

Judith twists awkwardly in Beth's lap, grabbing a sizable handful of Beth's ponytail in her chubby fingers. She yanks hard, and as Daryl comes to stand before them, Beth winces.

"No no, Judy," Beth murmurs softly, trying and failing to untangle the strands from the baby's grip.

Daryl swings his crossbow onto his shoulder and steps forward, crouching down at Beth's side.

"Oh," she says, eyes wide, as though surprised to see him appear out of the darkness.

"Hey there, Lil' Asskicker," Daryl says, tickling the baby's arms. Judith's head swivels around and she gasps in delight at the sight of Daryl, her grin showing off two tiny teeth. Daryl uses her distraction to reach forward and unclench her fingers, releasing Beth's hair. Daryl sweeps it over her shoulder, out of Judith's reach.

"Thanks," Beth says, shifting Judith on her lap. "She's at that age where she just wants to grab everything in sight and put it in her mouth."

"Some folks never grow outta that stage," Daryl replies. Beth laughs lightly, and the sound travels down his spine like a finger running down the keys of a piano.

"Comin' off watch?" Beth asks, tilting her head at him. The motion causes her loose cardigan to slip down her arm, exposing her slim shoulder and collarbone to the moonlight. Daryl's fingers itch to draw it back up. He frowns.

"Yeah," he gruffs, standing up and taking a step back. "What're you doin' out here?"

"She's had Rick up the last few hours," Beth says, turning her bright gaze back to the baby in her lap. She smiles. "He needs rest, so I offered to take her. Thought I'd bring her out here. I hate keepin' everyone up all night, the way things echo in the cellblock. Y'know?" Daryl nods again, and Beth watches him, her look turning thoughtful like it did the night he came to tell her about Zach. "You okay?" she asks.

"Sure," Daryl replies. "Can't complain."

"That's not true," Beth says, her brows drawing together slightly. "You can, if you want. You out of anyone here."

Daryl frowns, unsure how to take that. But Beth yawns, then, tipping her head forward enough that her ponytail swishes back over her shoulder. Judith makes a grab for it, but Daryl leans in and scoops the baby up into his arms.

"C'mon, Lil' Troublemaker," he says, settling Judith into the crook of his elbow. Beth blinks up at him. "Go on to bed. Ain't gotta sit out here half-asleep. I'll take Lil' Asskicker, get her settled in. You get some rest."

Beth stands stiffly, pulling her cardigan back up over her shoulder and crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm fine, really," she says, sounding anything but. "I don't mind taking care of her. It's my job, we all have jobs, we all have somethin' we can contribute, even if it ain't a big deal like goin' out on runs or sittin' up in the watchtower."

She's annoyed, he realises, that he's depriving her of her job. Daryl takes in her defensive posture, the perturbed arch of her brow, and her pursed lips.

"What you do is a big deal," Daryl replies. "You think lookin' after Lil' Asskicker ain't important? S'probably the most important job there is."

Beth blushes, and gives a self-conscious little roll of her eyes. "Yeah, right."

"You ever know me to blow smoke up a gal's skirt? Lookin' after this kid ain't nothin', Beth." Beth smiles, then, and her blush darkens. Daryl's stomach rolls over, and he's kinda thrown by the fact that he's somehow never noticed that Beth Greene is adorable.

Huh.

"Okay," Beth says, smiling at him. "Looks like she's starting to settle down a bit, anyway."

They go inside, and Daryl finds himself walking Beth to her cell down the long, dim corridor echoing softly with the sighs and snores of their group. Beth goes into her cell and lights a candle, the match flare illuminating her face. The board across from the bunk is now at three. 3 Days Since The Last Accident.

"I'ma tuck her in with Rick, see if she'll sleep," Daryl says, keeping his voice low. Beth nods sleepily, her jaw tight as she stifles another yawn. She closes the distance between them and drops a kiss on Judith's cheek.

"Goodnight, sweet girl," she says softly. Her hand rests on Daryl's forearm, and she gives him a gentle squeeze. Her blue eyes are wide and shining in the dim light, and Daryl suddenly kinda gets why candlelight's a thing people are into. "Goodnight, Daryl. Thanks for takin' her."

"S'nothin'," Daryl shrugs.

"It's not nothin'," Beth replies, arching a brow at him, something like teasing in her expression. Daryl looks away first.

"'Night, Beth," he says, and takes Lil' Asskicker back to her snoring father.

After, Daryl goes outside and sits at the picnic table where he'd found them. He smokes three cigarettes, one after the other, and stares up at the bright, pale, quiet, impossibly beautiful moon.