So I finished this chapter early and decided to go ahead and post it now Not too much action in this one, just trying to set up the relationships between Alana and Wilhelm with the other survivors.

Also, wanted to let everyone know, can't remember if I already have, but I will be adding some extra days to the time spent on the farm compared to the show. In the comics they actually stay there for a couple of weeks, but to stay along with the show I won't be prolonging it that long. I'll be keeping them on the farm long enough so that I will have some leeway once the season starts back up.

I'll go ahead and start work on the next chapter, but don't expect it to be done and up this Friday, won't have it up till next week, curses to you Uni! Plus I need to re-watch the episodes so I can see what's up next for me to include in the chapters.

Have fun reading and be sure to leave reviews! Let me know if there's anyone particular you'd like to see Alana and/or Wilhelm interact with.

Alana passed out soon after the iron touched her flesh. Her grip on Daryl loosened and the muscles in her neck relaxed. Hershel grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol and poured it over the scar. He said that it should be left as it was for now and that once the skin was no longer irritated he would bandage it up. He and Wilhelm turned Alana over onto her back so that he could work on her knees. The left one would heal on its own, but the right would need stitches. Wilhelm, Daryl, and Lori watched in silence as Hershel loosely stitched the knee up. He said that Alana would have to stay in bed for a while, to allow the stitches to do their job.

"I'd recommend someone stay in here with her tonight, in case she wakes up. I can't have her trying to get up and standing on this knee. She'll tear the stitches right out," he told them as he finished up. Wilhelm stepped forward to roll Alana back onto her stomach, pulling just the bed's sheet over her. The unkind redness of her new scar screamed out against her pale back.

"We'll take turns," Wilhelm said. "If I nod off that'll be the moment she wakes up."

Lori crossed her arms, looking over at Alana. "What if she…" There was no need to finish the question.

Without a shade of hesitation Wilhelm replied, "I'll take care of it." Turning to Daryl he said, "You can take the last watch. You've been out all day, get some rest first."

Hershel packed his things up and headed out the door. "Just wake me if she needs anything."

"I'll go let everyone know that she's ok," Lori said, standing up from the bed. Daryl stood as well, but winced when he put weight on his right leg.

Suddenly all the attention was on him. Lori was asking if he was all right, Wilhelm was pulling him over to the bed to sit down, and Hershel was walking back into the room.

"I'm fine," he said, "it's just sore from falling off the roof."

Hershel took a look at his leg, which was fine. In truth his whole body hurt from that fall, but he had landed a bit funky on his right leg. Nothing that wouldn't heal up in a day or two. Hershel did scold him though, telling him just that, that he should rest up for a day or two. "All that adrenaline pumping through you, body hasn't had the chance to hurt. You're gonna be your rest."

"Stay in here," Wilhelm said, a hand on Daryl's shoulder. "I doubt that cot of yours is more comfortable than this bed," he joked. How could he joke with his sister lying right there, possibly just hours, even minutes, from turning into one of those monsters?

Daryl wasn't given the chance to argue; Wilhelm led Lori and Hershel out of the room. With the click of the door he was shrouded in silence. He had been pushed back onto the bed, his hands pressed against the mattress to keep him up. He quickly stood up and sat in the armchair when it hit him that she was still only wearing the towel. After a couple of minutes he put his right leg up on the bed; it did relieve the discomfort. He stared at his foot as if it was the only thing in that room. Perhaps if her didn't look at her then it would mean that today had never happened.

But who was he trying to fool? The evidence was right in front of him. The crisp white sheets were splattered with blood and Alana lay in the middle of it.

He could faintly hear Wilhelm outside, talking to the group. It sounded like some of Hershel's family had remained outside as well, Alana's cries likely chasing them out of the house.

"She's just sleeping now," he heard Wilhelm say. Someone asked what was all the screaming about, sounded like Shane. "We had to cauterize a wound. She wasn't too happy about it."

"Is she?" It was Dale. He sounded like it tired him just to ask.

"We don't know. She had some wounds, they were pretty bad. And she has a fever, but Hershel said it could be from being in that house. We'll know in a couple of hours. Gave her a few swigs of whiskey, try to numb her. She'll be out for a while, but we'll keep an eye on her till she wakes up. Daryl's in there right now with her, he's a bit banged up."

"What exactly happened out there?" Shane asked. "He tells us one thing then when we get there it's a whole different story." Daryl could feel the tip of his ears turning red. He wanted nothing more than to go out there and punch Shane in the face. With a chair. A steel chair.

Rick spoke up. Daryl could just picture him sticking his hands on his waist and stepping forward. "They were looking through the house when walkers started coming in. They had no way out, so they headed upstairs into a room. They tried climbing out on the roof, but it collapsed. Daryl fell with it, Alana was able to climb back in the window. He tried driving the truck up to her, but she shot at him. If he had tried going over that mess, he could have gotten stuck. Alana made Daryl leave. She knew he would bring help."

The screen door creaked on its hinges as Hershel's family came back in, heading upstairs to bed. Daryl was unsure what he should do. Lying on the bed wasn't an option. Going outside wasn't one either. If he went outside he'd have to face everyone. Didn't matter how much Rick or Wilhelm defended him, the group would still blame him.

Half an hour later, Daryl was still sitting rigidly in the chair when the door slowly opened. It was Lori. She spoke quietly.

"Carol made you some soup, Wilhelm gave it to her. I have some for Alana too, in case she wakes up. I put it in a pot…in the kitchen. Just gotta heat it up whenever she wakes." She handed Daryl the bowl and he held it close to his chest.

"Thanks," he mumbled. He held onto the spoon, looking over at Alana.

"Have you checked her?" Lori asked. Daryl looked over at her with a confused expression. "Her temperature?" He shook his head, embarrassed. Lori walked over and leaned down towards Alana's head. She brushed the hair out of her face and felt her forehead. She shook her head. "She doesn't feel any hotter." She sat on the edge of the bed and stared at Alana, her face solemn.

Without a word she stood up and left.

As Daryl ate his soup he never took his eyes off of Alana. Once Lori had come in and looked at her, he couldn't ignore that she was in the room. She hadn't moved a single inch. Her breathing had steadied at least. The pinkie on her left hand had twitched two times. He had panicked each time, thinking she was going to wake up. He had been ready to bolt out of the room.

He got up and put his empty bowl on the dresser after finishing it. He treaded lightly over the floorboards. He sat back down in the armchair though his ass was going numb; it wasn't the most comfortable armchair. When he tried hanging his legs over the side of the chair he realized just how stupid he must have looked. He nearly fell out of it when he heard Alana take a deep breath.

Her hands gripped at the sheets, slowly pulling at them. She tried raising her head, tried turning it. She couldn't. Her arms began to tense as she pushed herself up. Not an inch off the bed and she collapsed back down. Her breathing was harsh, dried. Daryl stood from the chair and backed away to the door. His hand reached out to the knob. What should he do? Start yelling? Wake everyone? Run and get Wilhelm? It was his sister, he said he would take care of it. But would there even be a chance to get Wilhelm? It was too much of a risk. He got her in this situation, he'd get her out of it. This was his burden.

He looked at Alana's shoulder. The blood. It was still bright.

Inching along the wall, Daryl moved over to the dresser and grabbed the spoon. It wasn't much of an option, but if he shoved hard enough he could get it through her skull. He scrunched his face up and walked over to the other side of the bed. He leaned to the side, trying to look at Alana's face.

Her eyes. They looked the same as when they found her. Wild. Scared. Taking in his posture, Alana's breathing quickened and she tried to push herself away from him. She looked like some feral child. He hair, even though Lori had run her fingers through it over and over, was a mess, frizzed out. And her movements, it was as if they didn't belong to her anymore. Like she only have half control over them. She began to hold her hands in front of her face, as if they still gripped her gun.

Daryl dropped the spoon and crouched down at the side of the bed. He shakily reached an arm out to her. "Gotta check your head," he told her. She had only managed to push herself a few inches from him. Even if she didn't want him to touch her, she wasn't far enough away from him. He easily laid his hand on her forehead and every muscle in his body melted.

She was lukewarm.

When he left his hand there too long for her comfort Alana pushed herself back, falling onto her shoulder. She gasped, clamping a hand over her mouth and biting her tongue. She could feel the corners of eyes beginning to sting. Daryl leapt forward, trying to pick her up. He did his best to hold onto her while he piled the pillows behind her. He laid her back and stared at the corner of the bed while he pulled up the sheet for her.

He didn't have a damn clue as to what to do next.

She was staring at the bed. At the red splotches.

Daryl stuttered at first, but then said, "Hershel fixed you up." At his words Alana looked up at him, her eyes still wild, but a hint of coherency flooding in.

"I know. I remember. I screamed." She asked where Wilhelm was. Her voice was hoarse but she didn't seem to notice, to care. It must have hurt like hell.

"He's outside, sleeping. We're supposed to take turns, watching over you, in case…"

"I turned." Alana flexed her fingers. Daryl nodded. "Can I have some food?" she asked, looking over at the bowl on the dresser. It was strange, unsettling, how quickly her demeanor changed. The Alana in front of him was so different from the Alana he brought back from the house, from the Alana back on the highway.

"Yeah, uh yeah. Lori, she left you some soup. I'll go get Wilhelm." Daryl hurried over to the door.

"No. Let him sleep. I'd just like the food. Please."

Daryl looked back at her. He didn't want to spend another second in the room.

"Alright."

He stared at the pot as the soup heated up. He'd give her the bowl then leave. Go wake Wilhelm, let him know she was awake, then he'd get some sleep. He could deal with her and the group tomorrow. He swirled a spoon in the pot; when steam rose around the edges Daryl turned the burner off and poured the soup in a bowl. He had to go through all the cupboards, but he eventually found the bowls and a spoon.

Alana hadn't moved from the spot that Daryl had put her in. She had tucked the towel back around her, though it settled low on her chest, away from the wound on her shoulder. She raised her hands up to take the bowl from him. He had to lean over the bed; she couldn't lean forward, it pulled too much on the wound. She switched the bowl to the other hand when she was unable to hold it up, but she found she couldn't bring the spoon up to her mouth.

"I need help." Her tone was void of emotion. In that little time alone her eyes had calmed. Aside from her appearance, nothing could have hinted at what she had gone through that day. Daryl didn't understand what she meant. He stood, his knees knocking against the edge of the bed. He really wanted to leave. "I can't hold it up."

But then he remembered. She was there, in that bed, for a reason and that reason was him. He owed her.

Wiping the sweat from his hands on his pants Daryl walked over to the armchair. He picked it up and placed it as close to the bed as he could. Then he realized that Alana was sitting in the middle of the bed. She held the bowl out to him and he stood awkwardly while she slowly dragged herself over to the chair. When she had settled herself Daryl sat down in the chair. He held the bowl while Alana took the spoon in her right hand.

"How long was I there?" she asked between spoonfuls.

Daryl flinched. "I don't know. About two hours?"

She smiled. "You must have been driving fast." Daryl nodded. "Must have been a sight, seeing you come down the road…like a…bat out of hell? Is that it?"

"Yeah, that's it."

Alana dipped her head as much as she could without pulling on the wound. "Hey," she whispered. Daryl was hanging his head, shoulders hunched; his elbow was resting on the bed while he held the bowl up as high as he could for her. He looked up through his brows to her. "Thank you."

"For what? Leaving ya behind?"

"Didn't give you much a of choice, did I?"

"You're fucking crazy, you have a deathwish or somethin'?"

"It would have been better for the group to lose one person instead of two," she said, as if she had said it a million times. That's what worried Daryl. She could see it. "You're actually shocked by that? That I would so easily toss myself off the ledge. It's what I was trained to do."

"What exactly was your job? In the army? What were you, some suicidal sniper?"

"Yes." Daryl's head perked up and he leaned back in the chair after Alana put the spoon down. "Wilhelm and I were snipers. It was our job to go into situations that were death missions. Our only options were to kill our target or die."

"You traded being a doctor for that?"

Alana smiled. "Pretty silly, I know. But it prepared me for this at least. Is everyone asleep?"

"Yeah."

"And they stuck you with watching me," Alana mused. She tried scratching her head, pulling her hand away when it started getting caught in the tangles.

Daryl became slightly defensive. "Didn't have much of a choice. Leg's a bit sore from falling off that roof. Your brother told me to stay in here with you."

"Well, thank you for staying with me. Making sure I didn't crawl out and start chewing on someone."

Daryl still didn't smile. "You done eating?" Alana nodded. He walked over to the dresser and set the bowl next to his.

"The others, did they find Sophia?"

Daryl's face dropped. He shook his head.

"I think I'm ready to lay back down," Alana told him. "You can lay down too, if you want. I don't think I'll be doing much moving around."

"I should let Wilhelm know you're awake and that you ain't… dead." Daryl stood up, knocking his legs against the chair. He wasn't exactly quiet as he left the room. Alana sat there and listened as he went out the house and walked over towards the tents.

He stood in front of Wilhelm's tent, unsure of how to wake him up. He flicked his finger against the tent a couple of times, calling out to him. Slowly there was a rustle from within and then Wilhelm poked his head out. He rubbed at his eyes.

"She's awake."

Wilhelm looked down at his watch and furrowed his brow. "You still have…two hours. Go back and rest."

Daryl just stood there. Was he really sending him back in there?

"Don't ya want to see her?"

Wilhelm yawned. "Didn't hear any shots, so I'm guessing her fever is going down?" Daryl nodded. "Then I'm sure she won't want me in there fussing over her like a woman. I'll wait till she's asleep to go in. Get back in there, get some rest."

Wilhelm zipped the tent back up and plopped back down in his sleeping bag. Daryl stood there for a moment, more than beyond confused and frustrated. All he wanted was to get some sleep. The man could have lost his sister today and he wasn't acting one bit different.

Alana was still in the same spot when Daryl dragged himself back into the room.

"Thought you were going to get Wilhelm," she said as he pulled the armchair back and sat down. He mumbled something about having two hours left. He crossed his arms and slinked down in the chair. As he tried to get comfortable Alana tried to lay on her right side, but being so close to the edge she didn't have any room to move. Daryl did his best to not watch her. If he did he'd feel guilty for just sitting there. But he didn't want to be there in the first place, babysitting her. Didn't want to babysit anyone.

He had had enough when he began to hear her breathing hard; she was trying to drag herself across the bed with just her right shoulder. With a huff he shot out of the chair, walked over to the other side of the bed and pulled her completely over. He helped her turn onto her right side. It was only after sitting back in the chair that he noticed she was now facing him.

Alana eyed the ceiling. "Can you do something about the lights?"

Daryl stood up and flipped the light switch. Didn't help much, he could still see her staring over at him. "Ya gonna keep doing that?"

"You haven't said 'you're welcome.'"

"For what?"

"Coming back for me."

"Don't gotta thank me. Just did what I had to."

"I'll get it out of you eventually," she said, slapping the bed. "You going to sleep in that chair?" When Daryl didn't respond she continued. "Until you lay down, I'm not going to shut up. And might I add, I'm slightly affected by that whiskey. Who knows how long I'm going to keep talking. Might talk all night."

Daryl stiffly moved onto the bed. He rolled over onto his side, away from her.

A few minutes passed, wherein Daryl kept shouting inside his head that he was lying in bed with Alana. And that she only had a towel on. And Wilhelm would be walking in at some point to see his sister in bed with a redneck.

"Hey."

"What?" he snapped.

"You said you'd let me drive the truck tomorrow."

"Don't think you'll be doing much tomorrow. Doc says you have to stay in bed till that wound heals up."

"It isn't that hard to turn a wheel and push the pedals."

"Sure as hell isn't as hard as shutting ya up." She didn't say anything back. Daryl became uneasy feeling. He sighed. "I'm sorry."

Minutes passed and before he knew it he was talking to her. "I didn't mean those things I said earlier, bout you and your brother. Just got angry is all. Sorry bout today, all of it."

"Never said I blamed you."

"Still my fault. Shouldn't have left you back there."

Daryl almost jumped out of the bed when he felt her hand on his arm, but made himself stay still. It couldn't have been comfortable for her, using her left arm. Besides, he owed her.

"Goodnight Daryl."

Wilhelm woke up at the sound of his alarm going off on his watch. Taking a moment to fully wake up he put his shoes on. He took his time heading to the house. He stopped by Rick and Lori's tent to wake them up and let them know that Alana's fever was down. T-Dog was on watch; he told him as well.

He walked quietly into the house, practically sliding his feet over the floor. Neither of them stirred a bit when he opened the door. Daryl had rolled over onto his back, his left arm resting on the top of Alana's pillow, the other resting on his stomach. Alana was still curled up on her right side, her face buried in the sheet. She had bunched it up around her like a nest.

Wilhelm sat there for half an hour, staring off into the corner of the room. Thinking. Planning. He walked over to Alana and felt her forehead. Completely cool to the touch. Wilhelm smiled. He could move on with his planning.

He set two bottles of water on the dresser that he had brought with him before leaving the room. He went back to tell Lori to not worry about going in and sitting with Alana. Daryl was there. They were resting. Lori watched as Wilhelm headed back to his tent. She looked over at Rick. She was hoping she wouldn't have to actually say what she was wondering.

Her hope worked. Carl woke up. "Alana's gonna be ok?" he asked.

"Yeah, she's gonna be fine," Rick told him, "now go back to bed." He said it not just to Carl, but to Lori as well.

A few hours later, when she heard T-Dog climbing down the RV to wake Andrea, Lori got up and left the tent.

"How she doing?" T-Dog asked as Andrea walked up to them.

Lori nodded her head. "She's fine. Fever's gone. Just sleeping is all. Gonna go check on her." Andrea was looking around at the tents.

"Where's Daryl?" she asked. His tent was open. Lori looked down at the ground, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"He's resting in the house." Andrea asked if Wilhelm knew. "Yeah, he's the one that told him to. He checked on them a while ago, said they were sleeping. Then he went back to his tent. I'm gonna go check on them now." With that Lori walked off.

T-Dog and Andrea were still whispering when Lori came back out. A blank look on her face. They both stood in her way to her tent. "What?" she asked, pushing her way past them and into the tent.

"And I thought the world couldn't get any weirder than the dead walking around," Andrea said before heading off to climb atop the RV.

Daryl woke up first in the morning and smoothly slid off the bed. Rubbing the back of his head he looked around. He could hear the others moving through the house and outside. Steps echoing through the hall had him spinning round as the door opened. It was Wilhelm.

"Good morning," he said to Daryl, stepping into the room and walking over to Alana. He checked her forehead again. Still cool.

"Morning," Daryl said, trying to brush his hair down with his hand.

"I figured since she wasn't going to trying to eat anyone that it wouldn't hurt to let you sleep. You two had a tiring day. Come on, let's get you some breakfast." He led Daryl out of the room. As they walked over to the camp Wilhelm said, "Thank you, for going back for her."

Daryl didn't say anything, only nodded his head.

Wilhelm had already told everyone that Alana was going to be ok, that her fever was gone. Carl was anxious to go see her, but Lori kept him reeled in. "She needs to rest honey, just like you had to. You can go see her later."

Carol was fixing plates for everyone and Wilhelm walked over to pick two up. He handed Daryl one as he sat down. Slowly everyone started talking about what they would be doing for the day. Glenn said he was going to go into town, just a few miles away, with Maggie, see what supplies he could find. He said to Wilhelm that he was going to try and find some sodas for Alana. Wilhelm smiled and said she would appreciate that.

"I think we should all just take it easy today. After the shock yesterday, we could all do with a day of rest," Rick said. Everyone turned to Carol, to see her reaction. She was slowly eating her eggs.

"Rick's right," she said after a beat. "We can't have people going out and getting hurt. We can't do any good if we're tired. You've fixed a lot of those houses up for her," she said to Rick, Shane, and Daryl. "She'll be safe in them till we can go get her."

"That's right," Lori told her. "Tomorrow we can head out and go get her."

Daryl finished his plate and was just sitting there, staring off into the dirt. Carol's shadow covered him as she walked up to him and Wilhelm.

"Saved a plate for Alana." She held it out to Wilhelm. He finished chewing a bite in his mouth. He pointed his fork at Daryl.

"You mind taking it to her? Need to finish up here. I'll bring in her pack so she can pick out some clothes."

Daryl was uncomfortable. Everyone was either staring at him or listening in. Without saying a word he took the plate from Carol and headed back into the house. So much for him needing rest like Hershel said, what with him being sent back and forth to the house.

Hershel was awake, sitting in the dinning room. "She awake?" he asked, sipping on his coffee.

"Don't know. Just bringing her some food."

Hershel nodded. "Well when she's ready let me know. I want to check those wounds of hers."

Daryl knocked on the door before entering. She was just covering her face with the sheet, mumbling something. He stood at the door, waiting. He knocked on the doorframe. She poked her head out and looked over at him, a bush of hair that bounced slightly as she spoke.

"What?"

He held the plate out. "Brought you some food. Carol made breakfast."

"What is it?"

"Eggs."

"Shhh. Don't blink so loud." She pulled the sheet back over her head. Confused, Daryl looked around the room. And noticed that the bottle of whiskey had been left on a small nightstand. It was just beyond reach for her, but guessing at how low the contents of the bottle were, it looked like Alana had been able to reach it at some point. Explained why he woke up a few times during the night, thinking that Alana was wiggling around in the bed.

Daryl couldn't help but smirk. "You hungover?"

"Shhh!" As he went to set the plate on the dresser she shot at him, "Bring me the eggs! Shhhhhhh."

He set the plate on the bed and helped her sit up. He stood at her side while holding the plate so she could eat.

"Thought you Germans were supposed to be able to hold your alcohol."

Alana glared up at him. "I think, under the circumstances, that I'm excused."

She finished the eggs and tried to swing her legs over the side of the bed. Daryl quickly set the plate aside and pushed her back. "Hey! Doc said you can't get out of bed. Ya gonna bust your stitches." She looked at him strangely. "On your knee. The right one." She held the sheet up and looked under. Her brow scrunched up.

"Forgot about that."

There was a knock at the door and Wilhelm walked in. He smiled at them. "Brought you some clothes." Daryl quickly excused himself. He headed back outside and went straight for his tent where he promptly zipped up the flap.

Wilhelm helped Alana dress. He had brought her a pair of loose shorts. They were his actually. Had to tie them up with a bit of rope so they wouldn't just fall right off her. She normally wore spaghetti string tops under her shirts, but today she'd have to do with just the former. He slipped just her right arm under the strap.

"How do you feel?"

Alana only stared at him.

"Hershel will come in soon, going to dress your wound. Group's decided that no one's going to go out today. Well, just Glenn and Maggie, Hershel's daughter. Heading over to a small town not far from here, to get supplies. Glenn said he's going to look for some sodas for you."

Alana smiled at that.

After getting her back into a sitting position on the bed, propped up with the pillows, Wilhelm pulled out a brush and did his best to tame her hair. He was putting it in a braid when Hershel came in. He checked over his handiwork, telling her that things were healing up, telling her what she could and couldn't do. There were more couldn't do's. He dressed her shoulder then left.

"Want me to stay in here with you?"

Alana did her best one shouldered shrug. Wilhelm laughed.

"Well rest up then. Sleep all day if you have to. Enjoy it."

"What are you going to do?"

"Don't know. If I get really bored I'll come back in here and poke your shoulder."

Wilhelm headed back out to the tent to lay down.

Half the day had gone by when there was a knock at the door. Alana had dozed off. She opened her eyes just in time to see Carol standing in the doorway.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi."

"Just wanted to check in on you. Doing ok? Do you want something to eat?"

Alana shook her head. "No thank you, I'm fine. Belly full of whiskey," she told her, patting her belly.

"Alright then. Just wanted to make sure you were ok in here by yourself."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just weird, being in a bed. Forgot what one of these things felt like."

"I'll bring you something to drink," Carol said, seeing that the bottles of water were empty. Before Alana could protest Carol was gone. She came back after a while. A pitcher of tea in hand, along with a glass. "Here you go, I'm sure you're tired of water. Are you sure there isn't anything you need?"

Alana looked over at the window. "Actually, could you open that window for me?"

"Of course." Carol opened the window and pulled the curtains aside so she could look outside. Carl was instantly standing outside it on the porch, sticking his head inside.

"You're awake!"

Carol took the moment to leave the room.

"Yeah, kiddo. I'm awake."

Carl looked over the sheets. "Whoa." Alana looked as well.

"Yeah, I really dirtied them, huh?"

"Mine were way more dirtier," Carl gleamed. Alana laughed. "It hurt, didn't it? We could hear you."

"Yeah, hurt a lot. But your mom was there. My brother. And Daryl. They made sure I was ok."

Carl made a face at Daryl's name.

"Sorry, mom says I'm not supposed to say anything that isn't nice. But he don't really talk to anyone. When he does, he never really says nice things."

Lori called out to Carl, shouting at him to leave Alana alone. He couldn't get a word in before Lori came marching up the steps and pulled him away, pushing him down the steps.

"I'm sorry, he's just been real anxious," she said to Alana.

"It's fine, really."

"How you feeling?"

"Good. Sore. Really sore."

Lori laughed. "Well, I'll leave you to yourself then."

As Lori headed back over to the picnic table to rejoin Andrea she caught a glance of Daryl leaving his tent. He was heading over to the truck to look through the clothes. Wilhelm had finished sorting through them. Dale was already there, going through the shirts. He nodded his head when Daryl stepped forward.

He took a look around before speaking just loud enough for Daryl to hear.

"I don't know if anyone, other than Wilhelm, has said this, but it needs to be said. Thank you, for bringing Alana back. You may have lied to us, about what happened, but, you did what you had to, to make sure we went back for her. And I'm sure, that if none of us had, that you would have gone back on your own. So thank you." When Daryl didn't say anything Dale added, "I bet she wouldn't mind having some company in there." With that he walked away, a new shirt in hand.

A couple minutes later Daryl started walking off towards the house, a new shirt of his own in hand. "Gonna try it on," he said as he passed by Rick, who was just coming out of the house from using the restroom.

Alana looked shocked when the door opened. Well more frustrated than angry; she truly wanted to rest and frankly was already tired of being asked how she felt. How did they think she felt? Peachy?

After closing the door Daryl just stared at her. "Hey." Alana waited a moment, to see if he would utter those four words she loathed.

"Want some tea?" She asked, pointing at the pitcher that Carol had left on the dresser. Poor thing left without realizing that Alana couldn't very well stand up and walk over to it. Daryl declined. "Well I would, so bring it over here." He tossed the shirt in the armchair and brought Alana the pitcher and glass. He was regretting coming in to see her already. She filled the glass and handed it Daryl. He leaned against the wall and took a sip. Alana gingerly held up the pitcher and drank straight from it. Daryl raised a brow. She paid him no attention.

"So did you get volunteered again to come in here and babysit me?" she asked.

"Sorta," he answered, taking another drink.

"Wanna play cards? Carl left his pack in here," she said, pointing to the dresser. Next to the lamp the stack sat.

Daryl walked over and grabbed it. A bit unsure, he sat down on the left side of the bed.

"What ya wanna play?" he asked.

"Well certainly not strip poker." At his mortified expression she added, "Well it wouldn't be very exciting would it, watching me squirm around trying to get my shirt off with just one arm?" As he shuffled the deck she suggested rummy. He'd never played it before, but he agreed.

After three games, Alana was thrilled. Daryl was irritated. While Alana shuffled the cards they heard someone walking along the porch. It was Dale. He leaned down on the windowsill and peered in.

"What you two playing?"

"Rummy."

"Rummy? Who's winning?"

"Me," Alana beamed. Dale laughed.

"Try getting three of kind," Dale suggested to Daryl. "It'll ruin everything for her."

"Stop helping the enemy," Alana muttered as she dealt the cards out. After a few minutes Daryl laid down three of a pair. Alana glared up at Dale. He held his hands up.

"Keep it up Daryl," he chimed in before leaving. "Oh!" he called out, walking back over to the window. "Rick and Shane went out, gonna try to get us something for dinner tonight."

Alana noticed that Daryl had become flustered after Dale left. When he felt her staring at him he asked her what her problem was.

"Seems more like that you have a problem."

Daryl looked out the window. "Those two aren't going to catch anything. Gonna be firing off shots, walkers gonna hear."

Alana grinned. "You're jealous! You want to go hunting, don't you?"

"I'm the breadwinner of the group." It should have been an admirable proclamation, but coming from Daryl, it sounded like an annoyance. A burden. Alana sided with him.

"And they don't have crossbows like you." Daryl set down three 2's. Alana shook her head, rearranging her cards in her hand. She muttered something in German and it didn't sound like a compliment; all Daryl could make out was that she had mentioned Dale. She eyed Daryl. "That wasn't very nice. You've ruined my entire hand. Thanks a lot."

Alana was sitting with her left leg bent, right laid out ahead of her. The pitcher of tea was resting in the crook of her left leg. She would put her cards down and picked it up with both hands, taking a while to actually get it up to her mouth. Anytime she did this Daryl would tense, his eyes avoiding her. It was like a constant reminder, screaming at him, of what had happened to her because of him. It made it beyond difficult for him to stay in that room.

Seeing his reactions to her Alana wiped at her mouth and sighed. She scratched her head. "I'm tired. Think I'll take a nap." She gathered up the cards and handed the pitcher to Daryl without a second glance. He remained sitting on the bed as she gingerly laid down, stretching her legs out. She turned her head away from him.

She heard the thunk of the pitcher as he set it on the dresser before grabbing his new shirt and going to the bathroom to change. As he walked out and passed the bedroom she could hear his footsteps slow, as if he was thinking of coming back in.

A moment later the screen door creaked. She could see the top of his head through the window as he walked by. Closing her eyes, Alana slept past lunch.