In lieu of not knowing how Andrea and Daryl will meet up again (October 14th can't get here quick enough), I've made up my own ideas. But before you continue reading, my dear readers, understand that all of my characters come from one sort of TWD canon or another. Alice, Dr. Stevens, and the rest of any characters mentioned in Woodbury are from the comics; all other characters are, of course, from both comics and show. I do not use OCs. Lyrics and title from Sarah McLachlan's In the Arms of an Angel.

Spend all your time waiting for that second chance
For the break that will make it ok
There's always some reason to feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day

- a - l - i - c - e -

The first time Alice met Andrea she and Merle were, like always, not getting along. The man had come in about two months before Andrea and had complained the whole time. After Alice's dorm room had become a safe haven, she'd learned very quickly how to suture lost limbs, how to keep those limbs from becoming infected, and how to help people cope with their loss. However, Merle was about as horrible as a stick up a donkey's ass. If he felt pain, he didn't show it. If he cared anything about her helping him, he sure as hell didn't communicate anything.

To make matters worse, Merle saw any person of a color different than he, any person of the opposite gender, any person who dared stand up to him as inferior. Naturally, being two of those (female and daring to stand up to him), Merle hated her guts. He only got along with her because Dr. Stevens had no idea how to help amputees like him.

The day she met Andrea was like every other day when Merle came in. He came in yammering away at something, unintelligible sounds coming from his mouth. He stalked past the other patient she was seeing to—a man with a cough she suspected was the beginnings of a cold—pushed into her bodily, and demanded rather rudely that he get seen to immediately.

"I'll be right with you, Merle." Alice said, waving him off. Of course, though, Merle could not be 'waved off,' as Alice had learned many weeks ago.

"The hell you will. Get yer white ass over here, wench, and see to me." Merle yowled out, waving his arm at the young woman. Soon he would begin threatening her.

"She said one moment, Merle." The voice was feminine and Alice turned to see a blond woman leaning against the doorframe. She looked hostile toward the man, though Alice didn't know anyone who wasn't hostile toward him. "If I were you, I'd wait."

"Dammit, bitch, I ain't talking at you." Merle said, waving her off flippantly, and Andrea strode forward, ending up standing right in front of him. She gave him a look that said 'want to say that again,' and he narrowed his eyes and cussed. "What the hell ever. Nevermind, bitch. I didn't even want my arm checked out today."

After he'd left, Alice glanced at the woman and nodded her thanks. The other woman just grinned. "I've known him for a while; Merle's a terrible man, but he won't do anything if there's anyone else to stand up to him. I'm Andrea."

"Alice. Listen, you wouldn't mind checking in every once in a while when Merle's here." The statement was more a question.

"No problem. When I don't have other things going on." Andrea agreed as she exited the room.

Alice watched her leave before turning back to the sick man. She couldn't help but wonder if she'd just been saved by some sort of guardian angel.

- a - l – i - c - e –

The two blonds became fast friends. Andrea helped Alice when it came to Merle, though Merle quickly learned what the phrase 'don't get on your doctor's bad side' really meant. He was smarter than he looked and after the first few times never really caused much of a disturbance. At least not when Andrea was around. He wasn't as openly hostile, at least not anymore. But like she had noted recently, he'd gotten smarter.

"I'm waitin' but I won't wait long t'day." Merle said with another of his oh-so-wonderful growls.

"Good for you, I don't have any pressing matters today, Merle. What's wrong?" Alice said, wiping her wet hands on a towel before turning to him.

"Hurts again." Merle said shrugging off the blade-thing he'd made to cover the stump. She watched him undo the wrappings and noted that the scarring was coming along fine. There was no angry red like there had been at one time; her methods were doing the trick.

"I can't see anything wrong with it. Must be phantom pains." Alice said her voice the picture of the doctor's calm.

"Hell, get rid of 'em, git." Merle said, glaring at her. Deep down she realized that he was thanking her in his own way. Merle wasn't hurting nearly as much now, and though she couldn't understand it, this was his way of thanking her.

"You'll have to wait for that, Merle. And I mean it. I can't do that right now." Merle hissed and put his remaining hand on his temple, massaging it. Then he stood up and left.

Alice knew he'd be back, but how was she supposed to know how to heal that? Without the use of books, she didn't know how to heal phantom pains. She'd heard about a mirror device… perhaps she could talk to Dr. Stevens.

"Hey, Doctor. Merle's having those phantom pains again. A couple other amputees have had the same pains. I understand there's a device using mirrors—"

"There's no time for that; I hear the Governor's found other survivors. We've got to ready the medical supplies." Dr. Stevens was already rummaging through what was left of the bandages. Alice knew they'd have to scavenge other places soon for more First-Aide.

"I'll see what I can do." Alice said and the rest of the day she didn't worry about Merle at all.

- a - l - i - c - e –

It was during one of the rare times that Alice found herself out of the infirmary that Andrea told her of Daryl Dixon, Merle's brother. Alice had to admit that she found it hard thinking that a Dixon brother could be wholly different from the other. But the way Andrea painted Daryl, he was a nice, if misunderstood, man. And there was one other very important thing: Andrea was in love with him.

"I think you're in love." Alice said a few days later; they'd been talking for a while and at the mention of Daryl, her friend's gaze had softened and her eyes had unfocused. Nearby, the Governor's horde was screaming as the cage match of the hour reached a climax. The roars of the people grew deafening for a moment before dying down to an expectant hush.

"What?" Andrea asked, incredulous, immediately snapping out of her reverie.

"I'm saying that you're in love with Daryl Dixon." Alice mused, poking the older woman in the arm. "I've been to college and I've seen others in the same predicament; I know what love looks like."

Andrea didn't even question that statement. But she did turn her eyes upward, sighing. "I don't even know if he's alive anymore."

Alice shrugged. "Part of loving is hoping."

"Now you sound like a fortune cookie." Andrea remarked back, looking down the long main road that was Woodbury.

Alice grinned wickedly. "I've always loved fortune cookies. Add 'in bed' after every one and tell me they're not funny."

Andrea rolled her eyes and stood up. "Come on, didn't you say you were going to ask around for meds? At least that'll give me something to do."

- a - l - i - c - e -

"Where's the bitch!" Merle shoved roughly past Eugene as he stood in the doorway to the makeshift hospital. Alice looked up from the cut on Lilly's arm and noted the pronounced fear in his eyes. "Alice, you need to help."

Slightly taken aback at Merle's demeanor, Alice straightened up and glanced at Lilly, who shrugged. "What's wrong, Merle?"

Merle's answer was cut off by a flurry of movement from the doorway and a group of three people carried in a seriously injured man. Blood drooled to the ground it was so plentiful. The man's head lolled back, his face ashen. Lilly quickly jumped off the hospital bed and Alice watched as the men maneuvered the injured man onto it. Biting her lip, Alice saw the extent of the man's injury and wondered how he'd lasted this long. Merle was suddenly beside her, anger etched onto every line of his face.

"He's injured badly," Merle's voice was tinged with something other than anger for once. Did she hear fear?

"I see that, Merle." Alice's voice was calm, "Okay, I need everyone to step away."

And then she got to work.

Knowing he'd lose too much blood before she even looked at him, she looked around at the men (and woman) gathered around, "I need blood. Type O or something. He won't survive without it."

Merle, surprisingly, stepped up and offered his arm. Raising an eyebrow at him but not offering anything else, Alice set to work on sticking needles into both men's arms and creating the line that allowed the precious blood to flow from one man to the other. When she was done, she inspected her work to make sure it would suffice, and then she moved onto what was really the problem.

Time flies by when everything goes to hell. But today she didn't want time to fly by; today she wanted time to take its time and stay put. The longer this man bled the more of a chance he'd die. His skin was clammy, he was sweating, and he was unconscious, though that was the best of the things wrong with him. What was really wrong was that gaping hole where his right lower rib should have been. The bullet had shattered the twelfth rib but, luckily, had proceeded right on through the other side of his body. It had pushed through the tip of the twelfth rib and had completely severed it from the rest of the rib cage.

The first order of business was to patch up the wound, but that meant going in and making sure the rib was stable. Donning a pair of gloves (kept lovingly sterilized for such occasions), Alice poked through the man's stomach, wincing as he shook his head in pain even through the black of unconscious. What she found was less than remotely possible: the rib was hanging on by only a margin of muscle. Taking a deep breath and steeling herself for the worst, Alice took the sharpest and most precise knife she could and cut the muscle and other tissue away from the rib. Without anesthesia or other painkillers, Alice knew he'd be feeling this for weeks, but within ten minutes, the rib was, sickly shining red with blood and slick in her hands, cut out of his body.

Setting the bone aside and knowing that it would never go back into his body, Alice instead focused her attention on the bleeding. The blood had seeped into his bed, and Alice groaned. Even with the transfusion from Merle, the man was losing blood and quickly. But she had to take her time: one bone fragment left inside his body meant it could tear open something else and he'd be bleeding internally until death.

Upon finding two huge fragments and taking them out, Alice felt a severe peace fall into her mind. She quickly checked again, but the other fragments, if there were any, were nowhere to be found. Knowing she was done and that she had done all that she could, Alice began to stitch up his wound.

When she looked up, finally, she was surprised to see that the light had changed from sunlight to almost all of the lamps of hospital lit and trained on her and her patient. Everyone had left besides Merle, who was asleep, the needle still in his arm, his head lolling back, a light snore escaping from his mouth.

Alice was covered in blood. As she peeled the gloves off her hand, she grimaced at the amount of blood that squished around inside of them. And her clothes were similarly ruined.

"Oh, you're finally done." Dr. Stevens said as he looked up from reading something. Alice gave him a shaky smile and nodded. "It's well past dinner, but I saved food for you. Didn't feel right interrupting when I had no idea what was happening. Looks like you've done a good job. Eat and rest; I'll check up on him."

"Who is he?" Alice asked as she headed to her food, uncaring right now of the blood staining her hands; she was in favor of feeding her yowling stomach.

"Daryl Dixon, Merle's brother. I thought you knew," The good doctor answered, tilting his head slightly.

"Oh," Alice said numbly and took her food in her hands and ate while she walked home.

- a - l - i - c - e -

"Oh!" The name dawned on her the moment she woke up and she shot out of bed, pulled on clothes, and tied her hair back with sudden adrenaline fueling her movements.

Then she was out her door and racing back to the hospital post haste. The sudden fear that clutched at her stomach dissolved as she saw that Daryl was still alive. Though asleep, or perhaps still unconscious, his coloring was much better. Pinker, actually, and when she checked his stomach there was little sign of infection. The bandages, though new, had blood seepage on them and she quickly changed them. She was deeply in favor of keeping the man alive. But fear sparked the woman's adrenaline again as she realized that she could see what was going on inside of his body. What if he was bleeding inside? She touched his skin gently as if a touch would allow her to see inside his skin.

Daryl startled awake suddenly, jumping at her touch near his wound. "Whossit?"

Alice backed away, eyes on the stitches should they burst apart at his sudden movements, but Daryl was already groaning in pain. "Please don't move, sir." She said with force as she stepped forward again and pushed on his chest to get him to lie down again. "You've been shot and I had to stitch you up."

It was a wonder he was even awake at all considering his condition, but Andrea had always talked about how resilient he was. And hell, if he was Merle's brother, why should she be surprised? He blinked open his eyes and Alice noticed how bright blue they were. His mouth twisted in a grimace. "Goddamn bastards shot me."

"I don't know who shot you, sir. I just did the patching. Don't move." Alice reiterated as he tried to squirm.

"Fucking goddamn bastards." Daryl growled again, but it was quieter this time, and in only a moment, the man had fallen back into sleep.

Alice sighed and massaged her temples. Then she went out to look for one person in particular.

- a - n - d - r - e - a -

Andrea had heard the news about new people coming into town but she was more interested in sentry duty with Michonne. They had only recently been allowed this task and it was a whole hell of a lot better than sitting on her hands doing nothing. Plus, whoever was on sentry duty was allowed to carry guns, and Andrea was in love with the fact that a gun's cold embrace kissed her flesh again. She felt more her with a gun; without one she felt vulnerable and weak.

"How many do you count?" Michonne asked from her seated position, eyes glued to the binoculars in her hands.

Scanning quickly, Andrea shrugged. "Fifteen or so. Any more farther out?"

"Not much more. If only they'd let me take them out." Michonne lowered the binoculars and Andrea glanced at the dark-skinned woman to see her hand tighten on her sword.

"No one to go outside the perimeter." Andrea answered back in a monotone, rolling her eyes at the Governor's rules.

"No one would notice, and no one sure as hell wouldn't know." Michonne snarled out, though Andrea knew her friend's anger wasn't aimed at her. Both women were angered that the Governor had taken all of their guns. Andrea didn't even have Lady anymore. Luckily, though, Michonne had been given her sword back on the grounds of not attacking anyone.

"Yeah, until the next sentries came up and saw the dead… dead." Andrea pointed out with a small laugh.

Michonne shrugged. "They wouldn't know the difference stupid numbskulls."

"Andrea!"

The blond started at her name and turned around to see Alice running toward them. Out of breath, the doctor doubled over and huffed for a second. Surprised, Andrea jumped off of the lookout point she'd established, landing lithely on the ground, before striding to the woman.

"Did you just run all the way here?" Andrea mused, a smile painting her face brightly.

"No," huffed Alice, "I ran everywhere looking for you."

"Why?" Michonne asked from her position; at least one person watching at all times, Governor's rules.

"Andrea, there's a patient… in my hospital. You need to see him." Alice continued, taking her time between words. She was still breathing hard but she had straightened up and was looking at Andrea with a look Andrea couldn't describe.

"Why, what's wrong?" Andrea asked.

"You'll see when you get there." Alice said cryptically.

- a - n - d - r - e - a -

If Andrea had ever felt emotions before, nothing was like it was now. The moment she saw him in this frail state of nothingness, Andrea's body washed with so many emotions that she couldn't even name all of them. Fear took precedence in her long list of emotions. The man's body laid prone, his face, the face she dreamed of every night, had lines of pain etched into it, and his hands were clenched at his side. His breathing was normal, though, and from what she could tell, his color was just as she remembered it—tanned from prolonged exposure to the sun. But high up there in the emotion swarm was also an intense feeling of relief. Daryl was here. Her Daryl was here.

Andrea didn't notice her feet moving, didn't even realize that she'd moved. But there she was, sitting in the empty seat beside the man, gripping one of his hands. As if unconsciously, he'd opened his hand for her, but the moment she put her hand in his, he clenched it shut again. The pain was bearable (she wondered if this was what men felt like when women were giving birth) and it told her that he was still alive and strong. She gently pushed her other hand through his hair, slick with sweat and generally dirty besides (lack of showering most likely).

"Oh, Daryl. What happened?" She breathed out, her voice shaky as she looked at him.

"Belly wound." Alice's voice didn't disturb her; it was quiet, reverent almost. "He's done beautifully so far, but it's only been a day."

Andrea didn't answer, only kept her eyes on his face, her hand in his hair, the other firmly in his hand. Presently, she heard Alice leave but she didn't register much else. She didn't even know how long it took for him to stir under her careful movements. She only knew that, presently, he did stir. And he opened his eyes.

"Mus' be dead." He said groggily as he caught sight of her.

Andrea grinned and felt tears come to her eyes. "No, Daryl, you're alive. You'd better not be dying; I need you here."

"But yer dead. Can't be in heaven. Hurts too… must be hell." Daryl coughed and his free hand went to his stomach where the bandages were.

Andrea giggled bitterly. "No, Daryl." She repeated, running her hand through his hair again. "Daryl, you're here with me. You're gonna be fine."

"What's ah angel doin' here?" He asked himself before slipping back into unconsciousness.

Andrea's tears spilled over then and she laid her head on his chest, weeping from relief and sadness. Daryl was in a lot of pain, but Andrea was here now. She'd watch over him.

- a - n - d - r - e - a -

"Bitch, wake the hell up." Merle's grating voice forced her to open her eyes. Her back was cramped, and she sat up with difficulty. Her eyes were crusty from tears still and she wiped them away before glancing up at Merle. He thrust a wrapped something into her line of vision. "Here, eat a'fore you die."

Andrea, confused at Merle's sudden want to help her, took the food item in one hand (the other was still being held by Daryl) and bit into it. Surprised, she looked at it again. It was a sandwich complete with bread, lettuce, tomatoes, and… well, squirrel meat. "Where'd you get this?"

"Farm a couple miles down; took whatever they had. How's he?" Merle asked gruffly.

"He woke up… damn, it had to have been hours ago now. He was delirious mostly. But I trust Alice." Andrea couldn't believe she was talking to Merle without having to yell at him, but apparently Daryl's injury brought even the enemies together.

"Good." Merle said and left.

Andrea stared after him for a bit before finishing off the rest of her sandwich and then prying her hand from Daryl's so she could use the restroom. When she came back, she was surprised to see that Daryl's eyes were open. He was staring ahead, though, and they were glazed over like he wasn't paying attention. Andrea sat down and slipped her hand into his, and he looked down at the hand numbly, not comprehending. Then he looked up.

"Andrea!" His voice wasn't slurred and his blue eyes were sharp. "What the fuck?"

Andrea smiled as he placed his free hand on her face, reveling in the way her whole face tingled when he touched it. "Hello, Daryl."

"You're… you're not dead. Fuck. I knew we had to go back and get you." Daryl's mind was sharp as ever. This was a good thing.

"It's okay, Daryl. I'm here now, and I'm not dead. But you nearly were." Andrea pointed out.

"This?" He asked gruffly, dropping his hand from where it had become entangled in her hair to his stomach (she noted with happiness that he hadn't bothered removing his other hand from hers). "Just a flesh wound."

Andrea smiled, "If you call Alice, that's the doctor, having to remove a whole rib from your stomach a flesh wound, I'd hate to know what you call a real wound."

"Something that scars worse." Daryl attempted a shrug but sucked in a breath of pain as his stitches protested. Andrea's expression turned worried for a second but he squeezed her hand. Everything was okay.

"Some women like scars." Andrea replied cryptically, the smile coming back to her face.

Daryl's eyes flashed viciously at her, "Then it's a good thing this'll scar."

Andrea grinned and Daryl put his hand on her face again. Then, as much as he could, he leaned forward. Andrea felt herself leaning forward, too, and their lips touched. The kiss was not angry like the many before; more than that, it was showing how much the two missed each other. This was something they could not express in words.

When he finally lost the strength to stay like that, he leaned back onto his pillows. But he was searching her face. She laughed at him, "Don't worry. Go to sleep, Daryl. I'll be here when you wake up."

He smiled and closed his eyes, "You'd better be, Blondie. Don't know what would happen if you—"

He was asleep, and Andrea watched him lovingly, watching his chest rise and fall. Presently, she grew tired, too, and assumed the position she'd woken up in earlier: her head lay on his chest and she fell asleep listening to his heartbeat.

Alice came in later to check on Daryl again but decided after a rough check of his wounds that it wouldn't do to wake the two up. Instead, after replacing the bandages as quietly as she could, she exited the room. As she looked from the door, she noticed that Daryl had placed his free hand on her back, holding her protectively even from the confines of slumber.

I need some distraction oh beautiful release
Memories seep from my veins
They may be empty and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight