Going after Sophia, that had more to do with him, maybe, than with the girl herself. He was still mourning Merle's loss, and couldn't do a damn thing about it; throwing his lot in with Rick and his people had been halfway about survival, half a quiet gratitude for Rick's attempt to make things right. And beside that... Well, he's known men like Ed Peletier, he knows what comes of small-minded men with big egos. Sophia's life, brief as it was, he figures it can't have been an easy one, because he understood too much of the look in Carol's eyes. Back at the farm, when he'd fallen, when she'd come in to take care of him, she must've seen the scars tracing his back. He always figured she knew what it meant, what kind of life he'd led, him and Merle both. It's how things always just were, and none of them thinking they could deserve better.

Truth is he's always been half amazed that she never hated him for not doing enough, because a good man wouldn't have stood by and let that go on so long. Rick wouldn't have. Even Shane had beat Ed down, once, right before they had to run. He'd heard about it, seen the bruises on what was left of his face. Daryl had been... An outsider, a bystander. Uninvolved 'cos he and Merle weren't sticking around. He's not proud of that, of who he used to be, the things he used to believe. Carol was the first one to tell him he was a good man, and she'd said it enough to make him believe it, to work for it. Keeping her together kept him too busy to fall apart. Losing Sophia had been hard on him, too; not because he'd known her, but because of everything she represented, all the mistakes he couldn't fix.

Pictures sound nice, he thinks, for her sake, but he's not going to push the topic. He doesn't want to make her dwell more than she is.

"Mnn," he shakes his head. "Try to see what we need, when it happens."