"You his wingman, yeah?"

Daryl didn't say anything. He looked down at the bound man sitting on the floor. The stranger looked back at him, seemingly amused. He was leaning with his back against the wall, relaxed. Daryl scowled. How could he look so at ease? He was their prisoner, he should be scared.

The stranger stretched one leg out in front of him, looked down for a moment. When he looked back at Daryl his expression was more sober.

"Look, I'm sorry I knocked you on your ass out there. Nervous disposition, you see? Met some really weird chaps since it all fell apart…"

Daryl kept his eyes on the man, willing himself not to look away. The prisoner held his gaze, unperturbed. Daryl hated that, people not finding it uncomfortable, staring like that. Always made him want to bolt, or attack. He shifted his crossbow to the other hand, leaned against the doorframe with his shoulder.

"You not from round here."

The man grinned. "You mean cos I talk funny? You're right, Englishman, born and bred. Lived in DC the last ten years though..."

He broke off, seemed to assess Daryl. He had remarkable eyes, that man, Daryl caught himself thinking. He knew they were blue, he'd noticed them back at the gate. But in the dawning light slanting into the room at the infirmary they looked almost amber.

Daryl forced his eyes away, tried to focus on something else. He'd come here for a reason, but the stranger kept distracting him. Infuriating.

"Your kick-ass lady friend from the gate? She Rick's missus?"

Daryl had to force himself not to snarl at the other man. He would have liked very much to punch the guy in the face, just for that last remark. But he mustn't, Rick wouldn't like it. They both remembered Randall, and the thought of that kid still made Daryl feel sick with shame.

Instead he put his disgust into the look he gave the man on the floor. The prisoner grinned.

"Y'really let them call you Jesus?"

The other man shrugged. "Sure, why not. If it makes them feel better, to think they might be saved…"

Daryl snorted. The man on the floor shifted, leaned forward. His voice took on a more intimate tone.

"I bet they look to you for protection here, do they? You keep them safe?"

Daryl straightened up. This was pointless, he couldn't talk to this man. It was starting to annoy him.

"We keep each other safe."

The man calling himself Jesus rolled his eyes, looked almost disappointed.

"Sure you do." He leaned his head back against the wall, resumed his scrutiny of Daryl. "I can tell you this, Daryl, I've seen their kind. Those Alexandrians. They're weak. They're stupid. We got truckloads like that in our camp."

Daryl moved a few steps into the room, interested now. This was why he'd come here, to find out about that other place.

"But you, and Rick, and Rick's pretty missus…" Daryl growled, and Jesus looked at him with renewed interest. "You guys aren't weak. You're survivors. And hoping to find people like you is why I came here. I want you to see my colony, meet my leaders. You and Rick. We can help each other."

This last was said with some intensity. Daryl narrowed his eyes. "We don't need no help. Rick's got it covered."

Now it was Jesus who snorted and looked away. When his eyes focused back on Daryl his expression had changed again. Was it fear Daryl could see on the younger man's face?

"You got no idea, Daryl. There's much worse out there than dead people walking. Believe me, you'll want all the help you can get soon."

Daryl frowned down at him. He felt a prickle of alarm at these words, despite himself. "What d'ya mean?"

Jesus raised his bound arms. "Take these off, come with me to the Hilltop and I'll explain."

Daryl turned away. This was no use. What was he going to tell Rick? He wasn't even supposed to be here. His man would be furious if he knew Daryl was talking to their prisoner, let alone seriously considering to help him. He had his hand on the doorknob when Jesus spoke again.

"Talk to Rick, Daryl. Make him understand. I'm not lying, there's danger out there…" His voice had lost all playfulness now, it sounded urgent, strained. "He listens to you, I know that. I can tell you two are close. Please… if you think I'm lying, bring your best fighters, keep me chained up. Just tell Rick he needs to come and meet my leaders…"

Daryl left the room without a backward glance and locked the door. He couldn't explain it even to himself, but his gut told him that this man, Jesus, was telling the truth. He definitely believed what he'd told Daryl, that there was danger coming.

Daryl didn't like it, but he knew he had no choice. He had to talk to Rick.