When Joseph walked in the room, the atmosphere changed. No longer was the room filled with a twisted kind of happiness, but dreariness and isolation - if it was a feeling. Joseph wore camouflage pants and a gray t-shirt. The outlines of his chest were clearly visible, the shirt fitting him well. He wore black boots, with his hair combed and brushed back. It was obvious that he just taken a shower. His eyes fell on Lizzie, smiling at the sight of the two. Lizzie could have sworn she saw a glint of jealousy flash in his eyes, but it was gone after the blink of an eye.

Joseph smiled warmly and said, "I see that the town's hero is awake." Daryl scoffed slightly. Joseph walked up further next to the bed, setting a plate full of food on the bedside table. Joseph continued, "How're you feeling?" Daryl reached over for the plate of food, groaning. Joseph helped him, setting the plate on his lap. Daryl set his jaw, slightly angry at for him for helping him. Nonetheless, he grabbed the small loaf of bread, devouring it.

In between bites, Daryl gruffly said, "Like any shithead who decided to get shot by an arrow." Lizzie frowned, looking down. She felt super guilty. If she only had been smarter and stabbed the man when she had the chance! She mentally cursed herself.

Joseph said, "Well I slipped some painkillers in your water. 'should help." He looked over at Lizzie and said, "Do you want to help with some gardening? I bet Daryl's 'gonna want to sleep after he eats." Daryl looked up at him sharply.

"She can stay with me." Joseph ignored him.

Lizzie bit her lip, and said, "I'd like to stick with Daryl...someone I know." She looked down. Joseph frowned.

"The only way to get to know people is to let yourself spend time with them. No one meets and becomes instant friends - or lovers." Daryl looked at him quizzically. He clapped his hands together and smiled, "Well I best be off. Get well Daryl, and Lizzie, if you change your mind, you know where the garden fields are." He walked away, leaving the door open. Daryl groaned, throwing the last piece of bread on his plate, aggravated.

Lizzie said simply, "I'll leave if you want me to." Daryl shook his head, looking at her incredulously.

Daryl said, "Why the hell would I want you to leave? You can leave if you 'wanna, but you don't have 'ta." Lizzie shrugged, sitting down in front of the window, the light flowing into the room from behind her. Daryl could fully see Lizzie now. Her hair was pulled to the side in a fishtail braid.

"Who did your hair like that?" Daryl asked. Lizzie shrugged.

"Malissa. A town's girl." Daryl nodded. He continued to look at her. No longer was she wearing her boy-attire. She wore a skin fitting white tank top and a blue and green plaid elbow sleeve shirt over it. Her pants consisted of tight skinny jeans, showing off curves she never knew she had. Daryl's intense gaze unnerved her, making her bite her lip.

Daryl finally asked, "Did 'ya get the clothes from Malissa too?" Lizzie shook her head.

"Joe gave them to me." Daryl quirked his eyebrows.

"Joe?" He asked. Lizzie nodded.

"I meant Joseph." Daryl fumed with anger. A nickname already? How long have they been there? Maybe a day or two and his Lizzie was giving Joseph a nickname? It all made him angry.

He said, "Well you might not want to get used to this place. Even though it's nice 'n all, we 'gotta keep on keepin' on." Lizzie nodded. Well of course they had to keep on, but did that really mean they couldn't make friends on the way?

Lizzie didn't protest due to the huge cloud of guilt hovering over her whenever she saw Daryl's wound. She felt horrible about it. Just think: knowing you indirectly caused a possible fatal accident to the one person who has protected you through thick and thin can dampen your spirits. Lizzie sat on the chair next to Daryl's bed, playing with her hair. Avoiding eye contact, she made invisible circles on the floor with the tip of her boot.

Daryl saw her fiddle with her hair and make nonsensical invisible circles on the floor. He knew why she was acting this way...guilt. He never meant for her to feel guilty. It wasn't her fault some psycho tried to kill him. Sure, he took the arrow for her, but who knows - she could be dead right now. If anything, Daryl would think she would be happy to still be alive. Well, any other person would be happy, just not Lizzie. Daryl knew that he had saved Lizzie more than once. But he didn't want repayment - he actually had liked their routine after Tyreese, Judith, and Mika had disappeared - just him and Lizzie. Still, he knew that feeling of isolation for just Lizzie and himself had to come to an end. Joseph was the start of the end Daryl was trying to avoid. Daryl internally growled, not liking Joseph at all. He seemed like a Saint. But after all, there are no Saints in the apocalypse - only fighters. The way you survived entirely depended on your reasoning. Daryl's was quite simple. Kill the dead. Fear the living.

Daryl's thoughts were interrupted by Lizzie's small voice.

"D-daryl?" Daryl looked over at her expectantly. Lizzie quietly continued, "T-thank you...I'm sorry that I did that to you…" she gestured over to his wound. He looked at her incredulously. Daryl sat up, so he was sitting up.

Biting back a groan from the pain, he said, "Lizzie, look at me," he gruffly started. Lizzie met his gaze. He cleared his throat and said with a gravelly voice, "You didn't do this to me. It ain't your fault. You weren't the one who shot me with the arrow."

Lizzie countered, "Being the reason why you were shot with the arrow is worse than being the archer." She sighed, saying quietly, "Can't you just accept my apology?" Daryl mulled things over.

"No," Daryl finally said. Lizzie refused to let her unfallen tears flow down her cheeks.

She said, "You said I wasn't at fault! Why won't you just accept my apology? You're contradicting yourself." Daryl bit back a smirk. He never knew she had that big of a vocabulary. How old was she? Oh yeah - 13. Lizzie frowned, seeing the small reminisce of a smirk. "How do you find this funny?"

Daryl said, "Well if you let me finish, maybe I could explain why I said no." Lizzie stayed quiet. He continued, "Well," he drew out in his southern drawl, "I cain't accept an apology that's not mine to 'cept. You've got nothin' to be sorry for. This ain't your fault." Lizzie's lip quivered. Daryl reached out his hand, grabbing her wrist. He muttered, "Come 'ere." Lizzie stood, letting Daryl drag her to the side of the bed into his embrace. He saw her worn, and tired face, and said, "When's the last time you've slept?"

"Just a few hours ago."

"I mean a seven hour kinda sleep."

Lizzie looked down, "Since we started riding." Daryl groaned internally. He knew she had stuck by his side after the arrow incident.

Daryl scooted over, pulling Lizzie onto the bed beside him. Lizzie curled into his side, closing her eyes. If sleeping next to Daryl wasn't enough to lull her to sleep, his soft breaths in her ear did the trick.


Daryl woke up yelling.

"Merle! Merle!" Lizzie's eyelids flew open. Her heart wrenched, hearing Daryl's cries. Daryl sat up quickly, sweat drenching the sheets. Groaning, hurting from his injury, he flopped back onto the bed. His cheeks glistened from the dry sweat, and his eyes wide. Lizzie pressed her hand on his chest, feeling his chest stiffened.

Lizzie gently said, "Shh," she comforted him, "It's okay…" Daryl's arm was wrapped around Lizzie's waist, tightening by each second. Lizzie's side braid cascaded down onto Daryl's chest next to her hand. Daryl's heart pounded as he came to terms to reality.

Debating internally Daryl gruffly gritted out, "Get off." Gently pulling Lizzie off of him, he stood, ignoring the pain, and rushed to the bathroom. Lizzie followed, watching as he saw his reflection through the bathroom mirror. Turning the knob of the faucet, water came pouring down. Cupping his shaking hands under the faucet, he threw the water on his face, drenching his hair in water. He stumbled back, hitting the wall behind. Crumbling on the floor, he let out a sob. Lizzie rushed to his side, holding his wounded arm, making sure it didn't hit the floor when he plopped down. Lizzie sat on his side, wrapping her tiny arms around him. Daryl pulled her close, breaking down. Lizzie gently comforted him, both laying on the cold bathroom floor.


"Daryl?" Lizzie whispered. Daryl's eyelids begrudgingly opened. She gently shook his hand.

Daryl groaned. He had totally forgotten what had happened. But then he remembered. He internally scolded himself for making himself look so vulnerable. He knew very well what his nightmares were filled with, yet he didn't want to do anything about it. He honestly hated that about himself - having no power to rid himself from a memory like that. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep on the bathroom floor was Lizzie's soft voice, lulling him to sleep. Now, her small hands held his huge one, gently shaking him awake. His arm was wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Once she was attempting to wake him, his grip loosened so she was leaning back.

Daryl asked, "Hm?" Lizzie bit her lip.

"It's morning, Daryl. We slept through the whole night…" Daryl groaned, trying to pull her closer to him - not in a sexual way, he reminded himself. She was just warm. And the bathroom was cold. Bad yet valid excuse, right?

"Then what's the harm in sleeping a 'lil longer?" He shut his eyelids again. Lizzie sighed.

After a minute, she said, "Daryl-"

"No."

"Daryl…"

"No," he whined.

"I have to go see Joseph...that was our deal." Daryl's head straightened a bit at the mention of his name. His eyelids opened, now curious.

"What deal?" He gritted out.

Lizzie said, "We made a deal Daryl and if I don't hold up my end of the bargain…" She looked down. Daryl roughly - yet somehow gently - not hurting her, nudged her.

"Tell me now, Lizzie. I ain't got time for his shit. What's he been sayin'?"

Lizzie lowered her head and said, "He's teachin' me how to shoot a gun." Daryl quirked his eyes. He thought she already knew how.

He said, "I thought Carol taught 'ya." Lizzie frowned, hearing her name. She knew Carol and Daryl had had some type of relationship at the prison - not that she was jealous or anything.

Lizzie said, "I hardly paid attention." She was too distracted by a certain crossbow wielder that was taking his rounds at the tower. Lizzie continued, "The only reason why he's makin' me learn is because I told him what happened…" Daryl huffed, sitting up.

"I coulda' taught you. In fact I am 'gonna teach 'ya." Lizzie sighed, shaking her head.

Lizzie said, "No Daryl, you're still hurt. The recoil may not be much, but it can still hurt you." Daryl scoffed.

"I ain't no pu-" Lizzie shushed him.

"No. I'm okay with you saying anyway else...just not that word." Daryl looked down and sighed. He knew he needed to rest and that she was right. After everything that had happened, only sleep could help him.

"Alright. But if anything happens, tell that bastard he's gon' have to deal with me." Lizzie's heart tugged a little at his defiance and how protective he was over her. She kissed his cheek and got up to leave.


A/N: Long time no see! Hope y'all enjoy, please please please leave any suggestions for me! I really need a sense as to where this is going. In the meantime, please check out my new story "Fifty Shades of Grimes." It's a Beth and Rick story :) thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited!