Jesus didn't even exist yet while Daryl's mother was burning to death; he doesn't think about it. He doesn't even have to fight the impulse for this like that anymore-- when he's with Jesus, anyway. (You have to put it away, or it kills you.)

"Hmph." Worst joke, indeed. Daryl tips his head back, liking that kiss to his jaw, but he pulls back in to capture him in a proper kiss after. Too short. Not for him, for some reason. Hopefully not for Paul. Too short for Carl, who only got a few years of the real world, and for Judith who never got any. Maggie's baby, too.

This world is better than Daryl could have ever hoped for. Even with everything that's gone so, so awful. Even killing his brother, even knowing and losing Beth and Hershel and Abraham and Glenn. Even with being tortured. He would never have met Paul or anyone even like Paul before the end of the world.

What does that make him? Lucky? Damned?

"Paul." Just an exhalation.