Merle stared at me from the corner of the cell, watching me stare off into space. I had woken early due to my restless slumber. I couldn't stop thinking about what happened yesterday.

"Why don't you talk to 'im," he suddenly suggested. I glanced over at him.

"Why should I," I muttered, my gaze flickering down to the two small bruises on my wrist that had been left behind from his fingertips.

"'Cause he deserves a second chance. Don't you see what's happenin'? You need to realize what's goin' on here," Merle told me, his voice harsh. "Tried to tell ya last night, but you wouldn't listen." I sighed, shutting my eyes in annoyance.

"Fine." I stood up, groaning at the pain that rushed through my body. "I'll go," I finished, tossing him a glare before slipping out the door and wandering towards the exit. I snuck outside, the sudden burst of light causing me to squint. I spotted Daryl down by the entrance. He was digging holes in the ground: graves for the fallen. Rick stood over him, talking with him. I tried to hide myself to avoid any eye contact with Rick, the multiple healthy passerbys eyeing me weirdly. I didn't want him to see me out of my cell. He'd probably shoot me. Once he left, I sighed with relief and shuffled out of my hiding place. My stomach flipped nervously. I had no desire to talk to Daryl but I guess I had to do it eventually. I walked down the path, making sure to take my time to further avoid talking to him. Daryl noticed me when he heard my footsteps and quickly looked away, stuffing his hand into his pocket. I stopped in front of him.

"Hi," I mumbled. Daryl nodded at me in greeting, looking back down at the dirt. I crossed my arms, shifting my weight onto my right foot. I had no idea what to say next. "Um," I bean to stutter. "I-I, uh, I'm sorry for what I said yesterday." Daryl gazed up at me, pulling the bandana down from his mouth.

"S'alright," he said, fiddling with something in his pocket. I studied his face; he was definitely nervous. His eyebrows were ever so slightly raised in worry, his eyes anxiously flickering around my face. I disrupted the casual awkward silence by changing the subject, taking Daryl's response as an okay that we were good.

"Whatcha got," I asked, nodding toward his pocket. He hesitated for a few moments then climbed out of the hole, carefully pulling out the object: a small black box. I tilted my head inquisitively. He held it out towards me. I felt my face heat up as I gingerly took it from his hand. The material was soft against my skin, almost soothing.

"Saw it when I was out." Daryl lifted his hand up to his mouth, nervously beginning to bite his fingernail. "Thought you'd might like it." I flipped open the box, my heart fluttering at the sight: a small gold necklace adorned with a heart charm. "Had to smash a display case." A small laugh left my lips as I smiled with surprise.

"I love it," I whispered, peering up at him. He was softly grinning, his eyes containing a slight sparkle. My heart fluttered again. He was genuinely happy, a look on him that made him look beautiful. I laughed again with giddiness, biting my lip as I stared at him. Daryl wiped his dirty hands on his pants.

"Here." He gently took the box from me, taking out the necklace and untangling its shimmering chain. He unhooked it and held it up towards me. I quickly gathered up my hair in my hands, pulling it over my shoulder. Daryl draped the necklace over my chest, pulling it back to hook it behind my neck. His warm fingers lightly brushed against my skin. Chills flooded my body at the feeling. He fastened the necklace, dropping his hands back down to meet his sides. I let my hair fall, turning around to face him. He smirked at me, his eyes locked with mine. I giggled, blushing and looking down at my feet. He brushed his fingers over my skin lovingly, his fingers lightly wrapping themselves around my hand. I moved my hand to hold his in mine, my heart beating fast in my chest. I could feel the nervous sweat on Daryl's skin, but I didn't mind at all.

I gazed up at him, my green eyes connecting with his blue ones. Butterflies filled my stomach at how close we were, the contact we were making. I loved every moment of it. I felt safe. A small breeze suddenly graced us, gently blowing back my waves over my shoulder; Daryl was busy observing every detail of my face. I slowly rose to my tip-toes, placing my lips upon his cheek. I let them linger for a few moments before pulling away. A deep blush had covered his face, the slightest smile ghosting his lips.

Two sharp cracks ripped through the air outside the fence. I whipped my head over towards the noise to see what was going on. I could barely spot a few men before I was rapidly falling into the grave with Daryl. The landing was rough and sent shockwaves of pain through my sore body. Daryl had pulled me down here to safety and he now straddled me, shielding my body with his while bullets ricocheted off various objects around us. A few screams rang out from up the yard, probably from some of the Woodbury folk. The gunfire was a short exchange, but as I laid there it felt like forever. I almost couldn't tell it had ended, my heart pounding in my ears clouding my hearing. Adrenaline surged through my veins.

"You okay," Daryl asked me. I nodded. He rose to his feet, cautiously scanning the scene. Once he thought it was clear, he climbed out of the grave and held his hand out to me. I grabbed it and he pulled me out and to my feet. He didn't let go, his grip only softening. I glanced out at the horizon to discover three dead bodies lying on the ground. My stomach dropped at the sight, dread taking over me. I was able to recognize the bodies: they were members of my father's army. Daryl could feel me begin to panic and pulled me close.

"Shit," I whispered. "Shit!" I could feel tears stab my eyes. "It's them. It's them, they know I'm here. They know I killed that other guy." I turned my head to look back out at the trio, but Daryl intervened.

"Don't look," he lightly cooed, pushing me back and turning me away from the scene. He placed his hand on my lower back, pushing me up the trail. "Don't look." Daryl glanced over his shoulder every once in a while to check and see no one was popping out in ambush. I was in shock, my whole mind focused on what had just happened. They were after me. They were here to murder me; I was supposed to die today. Daryl sat me down on the cell bed, his bandana back over his mouth. My focus was fixed on the ground, the gunshots ringing through my head.

"Hey," he whispered, his hands on my shoulders. "Aften." I glanced up at him. "I'll be back soon, okay?" I nodded, my eyes still wide with fear. Daryl lightly ran his hands down my arms, his fingers brushing the tops of my hands before he left me behind.

"What's going on," Glenn asked me with concern, his face close to the bars that separated us. He looked as if he was getting worse while on the other hand, I was starting to get better. "I heard the gunshots. Is everything alright?"

"I-I," I stammered, looking down my hands that shook. "I'm okay," I said blandly. Glenn watched me with worry. "They're gonna ambush us."

"Who," he wondered.

"They are. He will." My eyes aimlessly wandered around the floor as my breathing sped up. "He's watching me, I know it."

"Hey, we've got people in the watch towers," Glenn explained. "They'll know first thing." I struggled to let his calming words sink into my brain. I brought my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them as my mind began to wander through all the terrible things that could happen to me or the group. I didn't want anything to happen to them. I didn't want anything to happen to me. I didn't want anything to happen to Daryl. I couldn't lose him. He meant too much.