I opened my eyes, a tickle immediately clawing at the back of my throat. I coughed as I sat up, wincing at the soreness that hit my body. I took in my surroundings: it must've been night and I was in an actual cell rather than the isolated one. I tried to stand, my legs wobbling the tiniest bit from not being up and about for god knows how long. I placed my hands on the wall to balance myself as Carol entered the cell, a small smile gracing her lips.

"You're up."

"How long has it been," I asked, my voice raspy. She noticed my arms shaking and rushed to my aid. Carol wrapped her arm around my waist, slinging my healthy arm over her shoulder to get me back up.

"Almost three days," she answered, helping me towards the doorway. I was stunned. Almost three whole days? I didn't remember anything besides Daryl picking me up in the woods but just judging from the pain I was feeling when I moved around, I didn't wanna find out. Once Carol brought me out into the general population area, she slowly backed away to let me stand on my own. I lifted my head to see Daryl sitting on the stairs in front of me. He gazed up from cleaning his crossbow, locking eyes with me. My face immediately grew hot. Carol set this up, I knew she did.

"Feel better," he wondered, his eyes flickering back down to his crossbow.

"A little," I muttered truthfully. Carol cleared her throat, raising her eyebrows at Daryl while she turned around and sauntered away. He glared at her, rolling his eyes before he stood up to leave. "Um," I began, interrupting him so he would stay; I honestly wanted him to stay. He stopped and looked over at me, angrily. The daunting look set me back but I continued to speak. "Thank you," I whispered. I was in fact thankful that he brought me back instead of leaving me out there to die, bleed out and become bait. I noticed his face had a tint of red to it. His eyes were nervously flickering over my face, caught up in if he should even speak and what he'd say if he did. All he did was nod at me then quickly left. I awkwardly nodded back to myself before turning around and hobbling back to the cell I had emerged from, no one around. I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw someone sitting on the bed.

"You're not real."

"You sure," Merle smirked, patting the bed next to him.

"Yeah," I whispered, slowly approaching him. "I'm sure. I think I'm still asleep..." I reached out and grabbed his bloodless tank top in my fist, bunching up the fabric. The cotton sat in my hand, real and laced with dirt. I released it, dropping my hand and sitting down on the bed in disbelief. "Holy shit... this can't be happening." I put my head in my hands, sucking in a sharp breath before I sat back up. Tears were gathered at the corner of my eyes. "You're dead. There's no way this is possible; you got shot and you died." I faced him. He stared back at me. Just the mere sight of him was enough to make me wanna burst into tears. "You stayed there and you died." I felt the familiar feeling of anger boiling inside my veins. "I wanted you to come with, but you stayed," I said sternly, trying to hammer in the fact that he was gone into my brain.

"You needed to go, not me," Merle said as he leaned back against the wall. He looked me straight in the eyes. "You needed to get outta there. You had someone to go back to."

"Daryl? Are we talking about Daryl," I scoffed. "He could care less; he literally just blew me off out there barely even a minute ago. If he actually cared, he wouldn't be so standoffish."

"If he didn't give a shit 'bout you, he would've let you bleed out in the woods," Merle stated. I stared blankly at the wall, listening. "He's been quiet his whole life; that's just 'im."

"Aften," I turned my head to see Carl standing in the doorway. "Who were you talking to?"

"No one," I lied, wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans. "Just myself..." I internally cussed. I just made myself sound crazy.

"You can talk to me. I-if you ever need someone, I mean," he offered, coming inside and sitting down next to me. "Only if you want to. You don't have to..."

"Thanks," I muttered.

"How are you feeling?" Carl nodded towards my wounded arm. I just now noticed the bandage that was wrapped around it, faintly stained with red.

"Fine," I said shortly, remembering back to that night in Woodbury. "What about you?" I nodded towards his arm.

"Oh, this?" He started to move his arm around almost as if he was rubbing it in my face. "It's doing alright now. Doesn't hurt anymore," he smiled. He was quiet for a few beats before he spoke again. "You know, Daryl was worried about you. Him and my dad got into a fight while you were out."

"He what," I questioned, caught off-guard.

"It went on for a while," Carl continued, ignoring me. "The both of them wouldn't let up, but Daryl made sure he got the last word. He was standing up for you like his life depended on it," he trailed off. My face grew hot at the thought as I stared down at the ground. Daryl stood up for me? He argued with his own leader over me?

It was silent, Carl and I sitting there not speaking a word to each other. My mind raced with thoughts of Daryl. He really fought with Rick over me? He defended me? I could imagine his strong thunderous voice ringing out with words about me, my name continuously falling from his lips. The thought made me blush. I felt Carl's fingers suddenly brush over my hand that rested on the mattress. He laid his hand on top of mine. My eyes widened and I quickly stared up at him, pulling my hand back in confusion just as I noticed Daryl standing outside. I had no idea when he got there. Carl glanced over at him with his pink-tinted cheeks and quickly stood up. He abandoned the area without another word.

"The hell was that," Daryl questioned me, disgusted.

"I-I don't know," I muttered, telling the truth. I stumbled over my words, trying to find something else to say but nothing came out. Daryl just rolled his eyes at me and stomped away, mumbling under his breath while he shook his head.