Rick watched regretfully as Abraham dropped Presley onto the ground, careful to ensure that he didn't hurt her. She was barely conscious from the blood loss. Her head hung and her eyes drooped, but she was still alive. They didn't have much time, but they had to do something about the bleeding.

Rick tore a strip of fabric from his flannel, wrapping it around her leg to stop some of the blood flow. With the rest of his shirt, he wrapped it around her leg and tied it snugly. It wasn't great, but it would have to suffice.

"Keep the sun on your right side..." She mumbled. Her voice was so soft that he barely heard her instructions. He lifted her with a struggle, bouncing her once in his arms so that his grip was tighter. "Carl, take my gun." He said, pointing with his toe to the metal object on the ground. The young boy scooped it up without question, as well as Presley's bow and quiver.

Rick did exactly what he was told, keeping the sun on his left side. The group travelled at a brisk jog with Rick in front and Abraham and Rosita in tail. Eugene blabbered on about something right behind Rick, but he chose to ignore the man. With a long stride, Michonne came up beside Rick.

They switched between jogging and running for a good hour or so, always keeping the sun on their left side. Each of them was breathing with ragged rasps and huffs. Even Zeva, who never once left Rick's side, seemed a bit wary from the constant traveling.

When they reached it, however, they walked. They walked strait up to the gates just as they swung open, revealing Maggie and Daryl. Balancing on Maggie's hip was a figure that left him almost dropping Presley and running to. He choked back a sob just as Carl darted forward, rushing towards Judith with outstretched arms. Once Rick got Presley to safety, he ran forward to hold his daughter.

Even in her haze, Presley couldn't help but to smile as Rick gathered young Judith in his strong arms, dropping to his knees and allowing his tears to fall upon the babe's brow. She squealed with excitement as if she knew or understood what happened. The three of them looked like a happy, content family. She slumped.

Before she could collapse into a heap onto the ground, Daryl came up beside her. He seemed concerned, but that didn't mask the rage that tore down at her, threatening to grab her by the throat and hurl her back over the fence. He grabbed her arm to keep her from dropping, relieving some of the weight from herself. She slumped into his chest, allowing the faintness to take over.

- - -

Presley slept for hours. Her leg wound had been dressed and she now laid with Zeva at the foot of a bed in a random house Daryl had chosen to get away from the happy reunited group. He was happy, yes, but he was also furious. How could she do that? How could she just leave? Even in his fury he admired her pale, dirty skin.

This reminded him of the time at the prison where he had brought her back, injured and not well. He'd been protective of her on her arrival, just as he was right now. His crossbow was propped up against his chair, ready to be snatched up in an instant. He held her hand between his. The contact felt strange and awkward to him, but he wasn't about to let go.

She looked oddly peaceful. He wasn't used to seeing her without the fire in her eyes and the tone drenched on her voice. She was a girl who always took too much onto her plate. Such as now. She had trekked across the land and went to look for people that might not have even been alive. He was overjoyed that some of the group had been found, but not so happy that it'd been Presley who risked her butt to go and find them.

He was up and to his feet the moment Zeva raised her head from Presley's thigh. He had the crossbow raised and the finger on the trigger, entirely prepared to release an arrow into the head of whoever disrupted him. A cautious Rick poked his head around the corner, and the crossbow was lowered.

"I was hoping she'd be awake." He admitted, approaching the bed. He set her bow and quiver onto the bed table. "I didn't get the chance to thank her."

Daryl grunted.

"Look, I know you're mad at her for leaving. Stefan told us what happened." Daryl seethed at the name. Traitor. "But she did it for a good cause, and she succeeded."

"It was too dangerous." Daryl said darkly.

"She was fine before. She can take care of herself. You don't have to keep such a grip on her-."

"Don't." He stopped Rick short, shaking his head. "Don't."

"She is like an arrow that's already been released, Daryl." Rick said. "You can bump into her, but she'll keep going until a brick wall stops her."

"Then I'm the fucking brick wall."

Rick sighed, and they allowed themselves to be surrounded by silence. Rick placed a hand on Zeva's head, ruffling the dog's dusty fur. "Today was one of the first days I saw Presley without Zeva." He admitted. "It was pretty strange, even though she wasn't far away."

Daryl glanced at the dog. He liked Zeva quite a bit, as she was another set of eyes and ears whenever he wasn't around Presley. Not only that, but she was a talented dog who loved Presley, and seemed to care for his snotty behavior a lot. He grabbed Presley's hand again. He wasn't a fan of PDA or anything, but they couldn't stop him from holding her hand.

"Tell Stefan this," Daryl said, "If he comes near Presley again, I will personally wring my hands around his neck."