Daryl woke feeling like he'd been beaten with a baseball bat. Every breath he took felt like fire. He cringed at the thought that he would have to continue to inhale. He was confused. Why was he in pain and why was he in Dale's camper? He looked down to see a clean white bandage under his ribs. That would explain the pain, he thought. He tried to think back to the last thing he remembered. Then it came to him. There was a walker in camp. A shot of panic ran through him. He must have been bitten or scratched.

Daryl grabbed the bandage and ripped it off. He looked down expecting to see some sort of bloody gash but all he saw was a neatly stitched line. He relaxed for a moment. It definitely didn't look like a bite.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, blinded momentarily by the sun beaming through the window. He looked around and saw Anna sleeping quietly in the chair next to him. She had her knees curled up to her chin with her head resting on her shoulder. There was no way she could possibly be comfortable. He wondered how long she had been there. He cleared his throat, waking her up. "Hey."

Anna smiled, rubbing her eyes. "Hi. You're finally awake. How are you feeling?"

"Like I just got hit by a truck."

"I'm not surprised. I've got some pain medicine I can give you. It's not that strong but it should help."

"Thanks."

Anna went over to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. She handed it to him along with a couple of white pills.

Daryl tossed the pills back. "I guess I'll ask the obvious question. What the hell happened to me?"

"You were shot."

"I was shot?" Daryl said incredulously, letting the words register in his mind. "Who the hell shot me?"

"Shane accidentally shot you. A walker went after you in camp and Shane tried to shoot it. Unfortunately for you, it wasn't coordinated and it fell right as Shane fired. You took the bullet instead."

"I should have known that son of a bitch would eventually shoot me. What about the bullet? It still there?"

"No, I removed it."

"I was just noticing your work. It looks like you did a good job. Shouldn't be much of a scar."

"Yeah, not bad for a dentist."

Daryl's eyes widened.

Anna smiled at him. "I'm kidding of course."

"Funny, but I wouldn't quit your day job." He raised his brow. "Just what is your day job anyway? I mean I know Jacqui said you were a doctor but she didn't say what kind."

"I'm a surgical oncologist."

"That's cancer?"

"That's right. I don't normally remove bullets in my line of work but I have had plenty of practice stitching people up."

"Surgical oncologist" Daryl said to himself. "How'd you get into that line of work? Your dad a doctor or something?"

"No. Far from it. He was a tire inspector for Goodyear."

"So what made you decide to become a doctor then?"

"It's a long story."

Daryl looked around. "It doesn't look like I'm going anywhere anytime soon. Spill it."

Anna hesitated. "Okay, if you really must know. My dad was the reason I became a doctor. He didn't push me in that direction or anything but he was the reason. He got sick."

Daryl gave her a look, encouraging her to go on.

She gathered her thoughts for a moment. "When I was eleven years old my dad took me to my school's Halloween festival. We were waiting in line to get tickets when he doubled over in pain. We had to leave. My mom took my dad to the hospital that night. The doctor said it was diverticulitis. He prescribed my dad some pain medicine and told him to get some rest."

Daryl noticed her bottom lip begin to quiver.

"Six months later he was dead. Turned out he had colon cancer."

Daryl caught her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"I always blamed the doctor for not finding it. I don't know if it would have changed anything. I'm sure it was pretty advanced at that time, but at that age I believed he could have been saved. I decided then that I would become a doctor and I'd be a better one than my dad had."

"It's tough not having a dad around. I know. Mine died when I was a kid too. He wasn't exactly a stand up guy though, just an alcoholic who ended up drinking himself to death. The worst part is it pretty much killed my mom too. She couldn't handle being alone and would bring home a different dead beat every night. She eventually got into drugs and then I ceased to exist."

Anna frowned. "That must have been hard for you."

"I learned to get by on my own. I was actually glad when my mom was out of the house. When she wasn't I had to deal with her boyfriends. Most of the time they were high or drunk. After a couple of them beat the shit out of me, I began to lock myself in my room. I never really saw much of her after that. I was lucky my old man had taught me to hunt, cause I needed to bring food into the house. After a while it became second nature."

"I was never as strong as you. I was always a daddy's girl. My mom tried hard but she couldn't fill the void my dad left. It really strained our relationship. Outside of me, my dad was my mother's whole world. When she died a few years ago, they said it was heart disease, but I think she just didn't have the will to keep living. She never really had any fight in her anymore. I got into oncology because I didn't want other people to suffer like my family did. I really believed I could save every one of my patients. I took it as a personal failure when I couldn't.

"You know you can't save everyone."

"I know, but I have to try." She took a deep breath. "I'm going to let you rest. That medicine I gave you is going to make you sleepy. I'll check in on you later to see how you're doing."

"Thanks Doc."

She smiled at him and turned to go.