The sun was right above them when they finally had to stop. For the last mile Daryl's feet had dragged so much they were barely moving. His breath came in rattling gasps, the busted arm, bloodied and useless, tightly pressed into his equally aching side. Sara, Daryl's other arm draped over her shoulder, hardly knew where to hold him without causing more pain.

Now, finally, the end of the line. He couldn't go on. Sara was prepared, she had felt if for the last twenty yards or so, that he was going to pass out, whatever she did. She braced herself and caught him as he went slack, managing to lower them slowly, using all her strength to prevent him banging his busted hip, and supporting his head when it slumped to one side. Her back screamed in protest at the exertion. Daryl was solid, and heavier than he looked.

For a moment she just sat with his head in her lap, catching her own breath. They couldn't stay where they were, right in the middle of the road. Daryl needed to be in the shade, the relentless pounding of the mid-day sun was making his precarious condition worse. But Sara couldn't shift him while he was unconscious, so all she could do for now was wait.

Wetting an already bloody rag sparingly from the one water bottle that hadn't been lost when they fled from the biters she took a deep breath before glancing down.

"Damn…"

The gash on his temple was bleeding heavily again. The small gauze patch Sara had attached to it had soaked through, and rivulets of blood and lymph were mixing with the sweat running down the left side of his face and neck.

That head wound was by far the most serious of the injuries he had sustained in the fall. The sound of his head connecting with the branch still reverberated in Sara's memory, making her feel sick. When she had arrived at his side, slipping and sliding down the steep gorge, she had at first been sure he was dead. Nobody, she thought, could survive that kind of impact. Somehow, she had managed to drag him out of sight of the biters up top, and the few that had fallen after Daryl had gotten so badly damaged she had been able to ignore them.

Daryl had surprised her, first by not being dead, then by coming round within minutes. But that was only the start of their troubles. He was so badly concussed he could barely be upright, even with her help, and even less so with a busted leg, a broken shoulder and several broken ribs. But somehow, with Daryl's insistence, Sara had gotten them going, away from the herd and onto the path leading them towards home.

"'m a touch son of a bitch. W're goin'…," he'd slurred, and brokered no argument.

But now Daryl's strength was utterly spent. Sara studied his features as she carefully removed the gauze. He was paper white and drenched in perspiration. His skin was burning with fever under her hands, and his breathing was getting worse and worse. She was sure a lung had collapsed.

He woke when she had just finished dabbing iodine on the head wound, and Sara quickly attached a new bandage. It hurt him a lot when she touched that area, and more pain was the last thing he needed.

"Doc…" He sounded slurry on that one syllable, and his eyes wouldn't focus. Sara frowned. How extensive was the neurological damage? She wouldn't know until she got him checked over properly, and could mitigate dehydration and pain. For now all she could do was keep him safe.

"It's ok, Daryl. Try not to move for a moment. We'll have to find some shade soon, but for now, just rest, all right?"

He seemed not to have heard her, just made some indistinct noise. His eyes fluttered shut as he tried to move his head. Then Sara understood.

She rolled him onto his less damaged side carefully, supporting his head. He retched, and it sounded painful. There was hardly anything left inside him, he'd been sick several times already. Sara was deeply worried that he was unable to keep down even the smallest amounts of water.

He was struggling more and more to breathe as the gagging continued. That there was nothing left to bring up seemed to make no difference to his battered system, he couldn't stop the sickness. Soon she noticed how blue his lips were.

"I gotta sit you up, Daryl, so you can breathe. Real slow, ok? I'm sorry to hurt you…"

He whimpered, and clutched at her hard when she began shifting them around. Finally, half-upright, his breathing eased up a little, and Sara let him lean into her. She was surprised when he rested his head on her shoulder, exhausted.

"Messed up, doc," he whispered. "'m real sorry…"

"It's my fault. I gave you no choice but take me along."

"I didn't pay attention where we was goin'…shoulda known better…y'got me out…"

Sara could feel his heartbeat against her own chest. It was weirdly fluttery and irregular. Every breath now sounded like hard work. She put her hand on his neck and stroked him gently. "Shh, now. No talking, save your breath. You'll need it soon."

"Rick'll find us…"

"Yeah, he will." I just hope it'll be soon, she added silently, watching his hands tremble with the fever shakes. She craned round until she could see his face. "Daryl, we have to get out of the road. We'll go slow, and I'll help…"

His blue eyes, blurry from the concussion and the pain, managed to hold her gaze for a few seconds. "Let's do it. Y'here, it'll be ok…"

-.-

It hurts to breathe. He knows he's losing whole minutes, maybe more, to the fever and the concussion. He's watching her rummage in her bag one second, and the next, within the blink of an eye, the sun is in a totally different place in the sky, and she's gently wiping his forehead with a cool cloth.

He doesn't mind being unconscious. At least the pain's gone, and he can't feel how difficult it is to breathe. But he can see that it frightens her, and he's scared himself by how it gets harder and harder to wake up again.

Once he comes to gasping for air and nearly screaming with pain. Sara has her arms around him, moving him carefully onto his right, then propping him up with their bags and an old, rolled-up blanket she must've scavenged.

"I'm so sorry, Daryl. You stopped breathing, I had get your airway clear. Here." She puts her small, cool hand into his, and he holds on for dear life while the slicing pain in his chest slowly fades to bearable.

Sara holds the bottle for him, and he sips some water. It's soothing going down, but the memory of what it feels like when it comes back up again is still fresh, and they both wait anxiously for his body's verdict.

The sun is beginning to set. From his vantage point Daryl can see a small sliver of road, and some trees. They're just barely amongst the latter, and still very visible from the road. This isn't a spot Daryl would've chosen for them to lay low, but they had little choice. He barely managed to stagger here from the road, even with all of Sara's support, before passing out again.

While catching his breath Daryl lets his gaze wander, partly out of a long habit of making sure no walkers creep up on them, partly because he finds the sight of the leaves rustling in the light evening breeze soothing. His eyes are drawn to something glittering in the lower branches of an elm nearby. It's a tangle of colorful ribbons, and strips of metal foil.

"Y'remember, at the hospital? There was a wind chime, in the window…"

Sara looks at him, then follows his gaze. Daryl can see a tired half-smile on her profile. "I do remember, yeah." Her voice is soft, and far away. "Wonder who put that there, and why…"

They both watch the metal fluttering and blinking in the glow from the setting sun. Then Sara turns her attention back to him. Her cool hand pushes some hair off his face, then alights on his forehead. Daryl sees her frown, but when he catches her eye she gives him a small smile. "You're breathing better. It feel ok, for the moment?"

"Yeah, does…"

"Then try and catch some sleep. I can see the road from here, I'm not leaving you. Rick will find us, easy." This last, Daryl realizes, is meant to be encouragement for herself. And he also realizes she picked this spot with a purpose. He feels much safer, suddenly, and oddly proud of her. His eyes drift shut on that thought, and some hope in his heart.

He wakes from the sound of Sara's crying. She is sitting very close, just as before. He can't have been asleep long. His head aches, and his ribcage, and he tries to shift a little but can hardly roll forward an inch. When Sara notices that he's awake she wipes her eyes, then helps him prop himself up a little more.

"I'm sorry, Daryl. I didn't mean to wake you."

He feels for her hand and squeezes it. "W'happened, with you and that Miles?" Daryl doesn't know why, but he has a feeling that she's not crying because she's scared of their current situation.

She grips his hand more tightly, like an anchor that gives her strength. There is a long pause. When she talks her voice is monotone, and she doesn't look at him. "Miles was a mean boss, a bully. But when it all started, he…he fought like a lion. He was strong. He saved me. I knew he'd protect me, and I was scared. So I stayed with him, even… Every time we encountered another group he'd pick a fight. He wanted to take over, he thought he could do it better. He was real charming when he put his mind to it. And he'd win people over. But he was impatient, and would insult anyone who disagreed. We were asked to leave, more than once. I can't even understand why I didn't just stay with one of the groups that turned him out…"

"Did he…hurt you?"

"No...not exactly. He never hit me, and when he tried to…y'know, I'd tell him no, and he'd…he'd stop. But he got meaner, and stranger. He wouldn't allow me to talk to people. When you found us, the women who were with us, they were the first humans we'd seen in weeks. I thought, with them, I could get away… And then the biters came, and… It was my fault, in the end…"

"What d'you mean?"

"Miles and I were having an argument. We'd walked off a ways, and these things, at first there was just the one. It came for me, and Miles got this look on his face, real mean, real…excited. 'See how you fare without me,' he said, and stepped back, arms crossed. I had no knife, nothing. The thing's guts were already hanging down, and I couldn't think of anything to do other than duck, and… and plunge my hands right in there. I could feel its spine right away, the body was pretty far gone. And I just yanked, hard. The thing fell over, and couldn't get back up because I had severed the spinal cord. I turned round, and there was another one, just behind Miles, about to take a bit out of him. I could've yelled, but I didn't. I just let it happen."

The hand Daryl isn't holding is going to her face and she hides behind it. "He…he didn't even suspect that I could've warned him in time…" Her shoulders are shaking with silent sobs.

Daryl's chest feels too tight, the hard ground is digging into his ribs painfully as he tries, and fails, to draw a breath. "Y'did…right thing…he was…scum…"

"Daryl?" Sara drops her hand and raises herself onto her knees. Her face is swimming before his eyes. She has her hands on him, unbuttoning his shirt. "Stay with me… Where does it hurt?"

Everywhere, he thinks, but he can't speak. The world is turning dark. He can hear Sara calling his name again, can feel her arms lifting him, then laying him down flat on the ground. Don't, he thinks, hurts too much. Don't…

Then it's all dark.

-.-

"Sara? Oh god…"

"Rick? Rick, thank the heavens. I thought you'd never come…"

"Daryl? Is he…?"

"He got hurt. He fell, it was an accident, but it was my fault…"

"Never mind how, or what. How bad is it?"

"Really bad. His left lung collapsed, and I made a mess reinflating it. He lost a lot of blood. I had no choice, the strain on his heart was too much and his other lung was filling with fluid. He was already turning blue, I thought he'd stroke out…"

"Let's get him back to the prison. I brought Glenn… Oh Sara, I never thought to come looking before sunset. Daryl stays out late all the time."

"I know! And I couldn't leave him on his own to get help…"

"My god, without you…"

"Without me none of this would've happened!"

"It always does. This is not on you. The world is dangerous, and getting worse every day. All we have is each other to make it through. Now, come and help me with him. Let's get you home!"