Daryl felt his heart beginning to pound in his chest as he watched the scene before him, hardly believing what he was seeing.
He hadn't put two and two together when the sixth prisoner had entered their cell block and now he was mentally kicking himself- Mark was a lot taller than his sister, standing around six foot two, maybe even six three, but the familiarity in their features was unmistakable.

He could see that she was shaking and he felt himself begin to tremble as his anger built up inside him.
What the hell did Mark think he was doing? Did he really believe that he could just waltz over there and hug his sister, making everything better?

Daryl had seen the scar on her stomach, felt the slight swelling on her knuckles where her broken bones hadn't quite healed properly, the small scar on her wrist where the bone had pushed right through her skin... They weren't the things that angered him most; they were the things that had healed, that she had learned to live with and barely noticed...

What angered him most was the fact that even now, after so many years, he was still able to affect her in such a way, he was still able to bring her to her knees and he was still able to scare her.

The other night, when she had woken him with her screams, he had seen the terror in her eyes and he hated that there was nothing he could do to help her overcome it.
Even worse- he had told her that it had just been a dream, that she had nothing to worry about and that she wouldn't have to face him... And here he was.

He gritted his teeth as he watched Mark's hands begin to slide across her body, one of them moving to her hair and taking a great handful of it, pulling it towards his face so he could breath it in as he held her, the other sliding down her back and taking a fistful of her shirt, exposing her bare skin as he lifted it slightly.

Fuck this shit; he thought as he narrowed his eyes, dropping his crossbow and stepping forwards, trying to ignore the prisoners as they called out, trying to warn Mark of his advance, keeping their lone gun trained on him as he reached for their comrade.

He grabbed Mark's shoulder, pushing him backwards slightly, wrenching him away from his woman as he moved himself between them.
He watched as Mark stumbled backwards, opening his mouth to protest before he lifted his crossbow again to make sure that his intentions were clear.

"I dunno who the hell you think you are or what the hell you think you're doin'," he growled as he glared, "but you even think of layin' your hands on my woman again an' I'll..."
"Your woman?" Mark asked, something flashing across his face momentarily before it was replaced by a look of joy, "You mean you two are...? Hey, Ellie, why don't you introduce me to your man so we can...?"
"Don't fuckin' call her that," Daryl snarled, "she ain't your Ellie, not anymore."

"I don't think you understand," Mark said sheepishly, holding his hands up in front of him in a surrendering gesture, "I'm her brother..."
"I know exactly who you are." Daryl replied, stepping forwards, forcing Mark to either square up to him or back down.
Almost surprisingly, Mark took a step back, dropping his gaze and nodding, glancing over his shoulder at his fellow prisoners.

Lizzie just stood there silently, her body still trembling with the shock of the situation. She looked down at herself, remembering the feel of his hands, his dirty, filthy hands, on her skin and she wanted to cry- why hadn't she been able to push him away? Why had she just stood there, feeling like the world was falling apart around her, instead of pushing him away and bringing her axe up, slicing through his...

"Lizzie?" Rick said softly as he reached out and touched her arm lightly, making her jump and spin around, gripping her axe in both hands.
She saw the concern in his face as she stared at him, her eyes still wide and full of tears before she fought to bring her emotions under control.
"Lizzie, you okay?" He repeated, realising that she hadn't heard him the last few times he'd tried to speak to her.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said hoarsely, attempting to smile but giving up when she realised how unconvincing she must have looked, "sorry I jus'..."
She looked across at T, seeing the concern on his face as he mouthed "you alright?" She attempted a smile again for his benefit, hoping that it was a little more convincing than her previous effort as she nodded.
"I'm fine," she repeated, "everythin's fine."

"You know him?" Greaseball asked.
"It's his sister," Facial Hair answered for her, "he said he was local, remember?"
"Don't remember you ever comin' visit," Greaseball asked, "I'd remember a fine piece of ass like you."
"Go fuck yourself," Lizzie snapped.
"Rather fuck you." He replied.

"Havin' a gun don't make you any more tougher," Daryl said, turning his gaze on him, "say somethin' like that again an' I'll have you lookin' like your momma's pincushion in no time."
"Can we all try to calm down?" Rick asked, stepping forwards, hoping to diffuse the situation, "I know you've all had a shock, you in particular," he said, glancing at Mark, "but if you carry on like this then we'll be forced to..."

"Shock? You don't understand," the big black guy spoke up, shaking his head, "you people just burst into our canteen, chopped this old dude's leg off and then told us that the world had ended... How are we supposed to react to that news? You saying we should just accept that it's true?"
"If you don't believe me then go ahead, take a look outside." Rick said as he motioned to the door behind them.

They looked around each other and all nodded in agreement- the only way to find out the truth was to look for themselves. They began to file towards the door and Mark stopped, looking over at Lizzie and opening his mouth.

"You don't get to speak to her," Daryl warned, shaking his head, "hell, you don't even get to fuckin' look at her unless I say otherwise," he motioned towards the doorway, "getcha ass out there with the others."

Rick stepped up beside Daryl and leant towards him, lowering his voice so the prisoners couldn't hear.
"Keep her in here, try to get her under control," he said quietly, "I can't have her falling apart, I need her, we all need her, but she's got to get a hold of herself."
He nodded, looking over at T as he walked past Lizzie, reaching out for her hand and squeezing it gently as he passed.

He stood there and watched as they followed the prisoners outside, leaving the door open so that he could hear any sounds of disturbance or struggle, before he turned around and watched as Lizzie's legs gave out and she fell to the floor.

"Shit." He muttered as he shouldered his crossbow, hurrying towards her and crouching down next to her, resting his hand on her shoulder.
He could feel her body trembling beneath his hand and he licked his lips, unsure of what to say to her- he wasn't sure if there was anything he could say.

"Lizzie..." He began softly, trying to think of something rather than sit there in silence with her.
"It wasn't a dream," she said as she lifted her head and looked at him, her eyes wide and frightened, her lip trembling as she spoke, "you told me it was jus' a dream Daryl but he's here..."

She trailed off, shaking her head as the first tears began to fall from her eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said lamely, "we'll get through this an'..."
"I can't stay here," she said quickly, shaking her head more violently as she looked at him, "we can't stay here Daryl, we gotta get out, it ain't safe..."
"We ain't goin' nowhere," he replied, cutting her short, "we earned this prison fair an' square, I ain't gonna let him ruin that for us."

"You don't understand," he could hear the anger in her voice as she spoke, "he's sick, he ain't right in the head... He's dangerous."
"So'm I, so're you," he shrugged, "he ain't gonna be able to take us all."
"Dammit Daryl," she suddenly shouted, grabbing him by the front of his jacket and holding on tightly, "why aren't you listenin' to me? I gotta get outta here before..."

"You listen to me," Daryl snapped suddenly, grabbing her wrists and pulling her off his jacket, shaking her a little so she stopped yelling, "he ain't gonna do shit," he slid his hands up her arms, gripping her shoulders as he spoke to her, "I ain't gonna let him do shit."

He reached upwards, brushing her hair out of her face to make sure that she was looking at him, moving closer so their noses were almost touching.
"I ain't gonna let him hurt you, okay? Long as I'm around, he ain't goin' anywhere near you, okay?" He growled, holding her gaze with his steely blue eyes.
"You don't understand..." She whispered.

"No, you don't understand," he snapped, shaking her again before he cupped her face in his hands, "if anythin' bad happened to you girl, it'd kill me, I'd rather die than ever let him hurt you again," he pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eyes as he spoke, "I ain't gonna let him hurt you Lizzie, I promise."

"You promise?" She asked, pushing her forehead against his, nuzzling him a little.
"I promise." He repeated, nodding a little before he pulled away to look at her.
Lizzie scrutinised him for a second and lifted her hand, her little finger extended. Daryl looked at it then back at her questioningly.

"You gotta do a pinky swear," she said seriously, "it's the only way I'm gonna believe you."
"Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?" He asked, frowning.
"Do I look like I'm fuckin' kiddin' you?" She asked, her game face well and truly on.
He sighed and rolled his eyes, extending his finger and wrapping it around hers.
"Pinky fuckin' swear," he muttered, "now do you believe me?"
"I believed you anyway," she shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips, "I jus' needed to do somethin' to cheer myself up."

He shook his head and pushed her, watching as she overbalanced and fell sideways, grinning at him.
He pushed himself up, watching her as she wiped at her eyes and sniffed viciously, trying to eliminate any signs of her crying before extending his hand to her and hauling her to her feet.

He pulled her into a hug and buried his face in her hair, holding her tightly.
"I love you," he said quietly, "I ain't gonna let nothin' happen to you."
"I believe you," she replied, nodding a little against his chest, "I'm jus' so scared..."
"Don't," he shushed her, pulling back enough to look down into her eyes, "long as you got me, ain't got nothin' to be scared about."

He leaned forwards, pressing his lips against hers, kissing her tenderly, and in that moment, she believed his every word.