Morning light leaked through the windows. It was a beautiful morning, no humidity, only a limited amount of walkers at the fence... It was these kind of mornings that Rick actually enjoyed getting up.

"Where's Daryl?" Carl asked, fumbling with the gun in his hand. Rick frowned, realizing that usually the man would have gone out hunting by now to get some meat for lunch or dinner. But he was no where in sight.

"Check his room." Rick ordered, watching as his son scampered off, only to come back empty handed. He frowned, running his hand along the stubble that lined his face. This was unlike Daryl. He was always up at the crack of dawn, ready to take on that forest with only what he had on him. Rick wasn't angry, simply confused and concerned.

He began peaking in the cells, looking for any sign of his friend. It wasn't until he came back to his own cell block that he realized something was up. Carol approached him, a wide smile on her face.

"If you're looking for Daryl, he's in Presley's cell." Automatically, Rick assumed the worst. He took the stairs by twos and peaked in Presley's cell. Her head was against Daryl's shoulder, her arm and leg draped over him. He had a single arm underneath her, the other falling loosely over the side of the bed. They looked too peaceful to awaken. Besides- Rick wouldn't really need either of them until it was time to continue training the people.

He smiled, in spite of everything. He was happy for Daryl and thrilled that maybe, just maybe, Presley would have an actual reason to stay now.

- - -

The first one to awaken was Presley. The moment her eyes fluttered open, she realized that she had probably done something terrible and utterly embarrassing. She looked up, unsure of whom she had welcomed into her bed. Was it relief that overcame her when she saw that it was Daryl? Perhaps it was.

Thankfully, the both of them were fully clothed. She laid there, trying to ignore her pounding head as she processed all of last night. It was a blur, but she remembered most of it. She could only pray that she hadn't spilled too much to Daryl about her treacherous nights with the Governor. She shuddered at the thought.

Not wanting to wake him, she tried to wriggle away from him, with no prevail. His Georgia blues shot open, looking at her with an alarmed expression. She closed her eyes, awaiting a wave of curses and words filled with regret, but there were none.

"Hey." He mumbled, and she opened her eyes to look at him. One corner of her lip upturned into a small smile.

"Hello, Daryl." She said, settling back into bed, only inches away from him now. She closed her eyes. "I am sorry, I did not mean to... Pull you into bed, I guess you could say."

"S'alright." He replied gruffly, and the two sat in awkward silence.

"Presley and Daryl, sittin' in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g." Carl sang, his distinct voice taunting and teasing. Daryl swung his legs over the side of the bed, pulling on his shoes and exiting the cell, giving Carl a small playful shove. Presley watched him leave, slighty offended. She hadn't particularly wanted the entire cell block to know what she was doing, either, but that hadn't been enough for her to run out. She frowned, brushing back a tendril of black hair and standing.

Ever since she had decided that her stay would be more permanent here, she had taken it upon herself to make her cell more comfortable. She had set up a small mirror on the desk, one with a small crack in the corner, but it worked. Boxes of ammo sat in small piles on the desk, alongside a wide variety of sharpened knives. She approached the mirror, throwing her hair up in a ponytail and using her bandana as a headband. She had it folded so that it was only about two inches wide.

"Hey, Pres?"

"Yeah?" She turned to see Michonne, the katana slung over her back casually.

"We're going on a run. Extra spot. You up for it?"

"Uh uh." She said, sliding her usual knives into thieir holsters, alongside a single pistol. She grabbed her bow and slung the quiver over her back, adjusting the strap so it rested comfortably on her chest. Michonne sat impatiently, tapping her foot until Presley finally approached her.

"Thirty minute drive, five people going." Michonne informed her, prancing down the stairs like some sort of cat. Presley followed in a similar manner. She named off the names of the people going, but Presley only recognized Michonne and Carl.

"Carl?"

"Yeah... Rick trusts that we'll take care of him." She said. "Said that he could use the experience."

Presley nodded. They were just approaching the doors when an invisible force stopped her by shoving her to the side before she could walk through the exit. Out of instinct, she turned, fists clenched and ready to strike. Daryl looked down at her, his expression hard.

"No." He said simply. "Yer not goin'."

"We had this talk last time, Daryl." She spat, angry. How could he just walk out of her room, and then suddenly act like she cared again. "Move out of my way."

"No, Presley." He repeated. "You're not strong enough."

"Not strong enough?" She laughed. "I don't know why you think you have to be an ass to me and treat me differently than you treat everybody else, but I will not stand for it. You don't care that Michonne is going, and you sure don't care that Carl is going!"

She clenched her fists, looking at him with narrowed eyes. People who happened to be in the cell block watched as the situation continued to unfold. "Exactly what I thought. Get your ass out of my way."

She moved to shove past him, but he was much stronger. He grabbed her, lifting her so her feet dangled only an inch above the ground, and carried her away from the door. She somehow managed to wrench herself free, angry that he had made her feel like some sort of small child.

"Go to hell, Daryl!" She yelled, shoving him against the wall. He reached to grab her wrist when she tried to walk past him, but she turned and smacked him across the cheek, hard. "Don't you lay a finger on me." She hissed, leaving the room before he could stop her again.

- - -

"He doesn't normally do that for people." Michonne insisted. They had taken two vehicles, Michonne and Presley in one, and the other two people in the other. While it used more gas, it allowed them to gather more supplies.

"I know this."

"He cares about you, Pres."

"No," She shook her head, "He's just an ass."

"He is an ass." She agreed. "But this ass cares about you. He just doesn't want you to get hurt."

She shook her head. "He thinks that just because I wasn't able to defend myself from..." She faded off, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I don't like being baby sitted is all."

Michonne smiled as she turned down the road, following the car in front of her. "You need baby sitted, sweetie pie." Presley wrinkled her nose at the use of the pet name, shaking her head.

"I am an independent woman- I don't need anything." She said boldy, crossing her arms over her chest. Michonne patted Presley's shoulder.

"You have a lot to learn."

- - -

"Where are they?" Daryl asked by the time it was time to teach the defense lessons. They were supposed to be back hours ago. He couldn't control his fear- he couldn't even hide it. He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath, awaiting for Rick's bullshit answer.

"I'm sure they just got caught up, Daryl." And there it was.

"They took two vehicles and took five people. It shouldn't take that long, Rick." Hershal reasoned. He too was concerned about the fact that the people had been out for this long. Rick frowned, simply shaking his head.

"We sent out two of our best girls, I am sure they'll be back soon." He insisted. He was right, but it took hours for the two to return... They had left with five, but only three returned, including Presley and Michonne.

When Daryl finally saw her, all he wanted to do was sweep up that little body of hers and hold her tight enough that she would never be able to leave the prison again. He held his ground, too angry to even process what was happening when he saw Stefan moving towards her. The blonde actually got to Presley before Daryl had even taken a step. He pulled the bloody girl into a hug, and undeniable jealousy coursed through Daryl.

But he could do nothing but watch.

- - -

"What happened out there?" Rick asked as people swarmed around the two vehicles that they had brought back. The faces of the three were grim. Turns out the boy with them was Aaron. "Why did it take so long for you to return?"

"We ran into some trouble in the store. Some walkers came out of the back room we didn't check." Michonne said grimly. Presley stared off into space, picking at the dirt between her finger nails. Her body ached from the excessive running that she had done to try and save the people- but she had only been able to save Aaron. Michonne had finished throwing all the things into the cars, and they were off. "The walkers... They got em. Presley ended their suffering."

She let Michonne finish the explaining, ignoring the gaze of Daryl. He looked at her with angry blue eyes, and she couldn't help but to feel bad... But it was hardly her fault. Still, he made her guilty, and that made her upset.

"You should have listened to me." He said suddenly. She looked at him, blue eyes wide in surprise that he would say something like that in front of people. Couldn't he see that she felt bad enough? She closed her eyes and walked right past him, but he followed.

"Where do ye think yer goin'?" He asked, reaching for her arm. She quickened her steps. "Don't walk away from me!"

"Stay away from me Daryl." She hissed over her shoulder. She wouldn't turn around. She wouldn't give him the satisfactory of seeing her face, of seeing the pain in her eyes. Couldn't he see that she was already mourning? She had to shoot two of her comrades in the head because she couldn't save them, because she hadn't checked the back room thoroughly. She was in enough pain- Daryl didn't need to be adding to it.

"No." He said stubbornly, getting a hold of her arm and forcing her to stop and face him. "Stop running from me."

"Stop being a dick." He frowned at her retort, his grip tightening harshly on her skin. Suddenly, she was thrown back into the depths of her mind. Her eyes went wide, and instead of seeing Daryl, she saw the Governor.

"No, no please." She said, trying to struggle out of his grip. "Let go of me!" She yelled, and Daryl let go out of confusion. He watched in horror as the girl before him crumpled to the ground, stumbling over herself. Finally she found the balance to stand, but she looked at Daryl in complete horror.

"Presley." He said softly, grabbing her shoulders. Her body shook and she shook her head.

"I'm sorry." She sobbed, but no tears slipped from her eyes. Not quite knowing what to do, Daryl drew her in and pressed her face into his neck. Nobody had seen her break down but him, but they had surely heard it. Presley wrapped her arms around him, now realizing that it wasn't the Governor.

"I'm sorry." Daryl said quietly, running his hand along the black hair that trailed down her back. Finally she pulled away, refusing to look him in the eye. Without a word, she shook her head and turned, wrapping her arms around herself as she trekked away. This time he didn't follow her.