Title: Before the Fever Breaks
Summary: After the incident with Patrick, there's a lot of concern over what happened to him. With everyone's nerves on edge, the last thing they need is someone else getting sick.
Notes: I've taken liberties with where episode 1 left off and won't be going the path that we know the show's going to go with the aftermath of what happened with Patrick.
Shameless Daryl h/c.
Warnings: Spoilers for episode 1 and 2 of season 4.


"Knock knock," Carol said as she peered round the corner of the cell.

It was late in the evening and Barbara, one of the other women who helped with cooking more often than not, had told Carol that Daryl hadn't been down for anything.

Carol had a habit of making sure Daryl was fed. She'd done it during the winter months when the group had left the farm and struggled everyday. He'd be the first to avoid getting any food, finding a way to make the others forget that he hadn't eaten.

Not Carol, though.

She'd made it her own personal goal to make sure she watched out for him. She knew he could take care of himself, that missing an occasional meal when things were tight wasn't the worst thing, not if it meant Lori and Carl had a little bit more, and she recognised the importance it gave Daryl to do that, so she'd never allow herself to stifle his way of helping, she just had to make sure he didn't let himself go without for too long.

He was a lot better since they got to the prison.

Food was never such a pressing issue, not with so many more people to help on runs. So, there was no reason for Daryl to miss a meal. Not any more.

Daryl peered round to her as he lay facing away from the door on his bunk. Some of the others had ripped the prison beds out, bought in something more comfortable, but Daryl hadn't bothered with that.

He didn't see the point. Didn't see this as a place they could stay forever and if they had to sleep outside again one day, he didn't want to miss the comfort of a soft mattress.

No, for him, the prison bed would do.

"Hey," he said in greeting, voice laced with tiredness.

"Barbara said you missed dinner, so I thought I best bring it too you."

Daryl grunted and turned back from her. Carol's brow creased in concern. "What's wrong? Not hungry?"

"I'm more tired than hungry. Got that run tomorrow. Sleep won out." he muttered, voice muffled as his face seemed to be squashed into a pillow.

"I can leave it here for you if you want. You might get hungry in the night. Or you can have it for breakfast."

"'kay," Daryl replied.

"Night," she said, heading back to her own cell.


Carol had watched that morning as Daryl and Michonne went out for a run.

They were scouting a possible future run, but they wanted to make sure there were no obstacles on the road and see if they needed to prepare anything else for a smooth run before a larger group headed out there.

Daryl had headed over to her, gave her back the bowl before he headed out.

She hadn't seen him since then. She'd been busy enough herself. Since the incident with Patrick turning, she'd become even more determined to help the other children take care of themselves. So she planned that maybe one on one sessions with some of the kids might be easier.

She had Judith for a little while in the afternoon so that Rick and Carl could tend to the crops and animals and then she'd patched some holes in some of her clothes.

Sadie was on dinner duty that evening and it was nice to have a break from it all. She enjoyed sitting outside while the children played, chatted with some of the others and just relax for a little while.

The walkers at the fence had been thinned out now and it was a relief that they weren't having to use as many people to watch it.

The sight of Michonne strolling across the prison grounds made Carol excuse herself from the others she sat with.

She hadn't realised they were back and headed to Daryl's cell to see if he was there.

Carol looked through to Daryl's cell door and saw the hunter was in bed again, much like he had been the night before when she came to see him.

His back was to the wall this time though and she stepped into the room, seeing he was asleep. She went over to the bed, crouched down beside him, frown present as she looked at Daryl's sweaty brow.

It was fairly cool and she carefully reached out her hand and touched his brow.

He was burning up with a fever.

"Daryl?" she called, worriedly.

He opened his eyes, bleary strips of blue shining through bright glazed eyes. "Wha-" he mumbled, barely coherently.

"You're sick," she told him matter of factly.

"'m jus' tired," he replied.

"I'm gonna get Hershel," she said, not asking him as she quickly left the room and went to find the vet.

TBC...


A/N: The plan is to make this a short little thing so if all goes well, it'll be finished by Sunday.