Daryl's face broke at those words. Collapsed in on itself with an ugly choked-off sob. He was past this. He was supposed to be past this. Why the hell had his head decided to fuck with him now? And why her? Why not Merle? He could have dealt with Merle. Shook it off. But Beth...

"Shut up," this time it wasn't an order. It was a plea. He was begging her to stop. To go away.

He couldn't even shoot the damn walker that was obviously advancing on him. He knew it was there. It had to be. But it was wearing her face. And he'd already seen that face blown open by a gun he'd been too slow to stop. He couldn't see it again. He couldn't be the one to cause it.