Nora had taken some time before she was able to fully recover. But now that she was back on her feet, the eyes that watched over her night and day only seemed to grow more skeptical. They wanted answers and Nora wasn't positive she was prepared to give them. She didn't like confessing how many times she had been caught off her guard and hauled back into that room of pure torture. She didn't want to tell how she felt her last fractions of air being replaced with dirt and grime as she clawed her way out of her own coffin.

First time for everything, right?

"Alright. Let's take this from the beginning," Rick said as he leaned in, ensuring he had Nora's full attention. Andrea, ever the supporter, clasped tightly onto Nora's hand to show her ultimate support. She received a fleeting squeeze before Nora was able to wiggle out of her sisterly grasp and focus on burying what was left of her emotional attachment to the subject. Her expression became stony, almost businesslike. "Where did they find ye?"

Nora sighed heavily and began from there. Now and again, Andrea would jump in and answer, breaking the Irishwoman's concentration. She kept focused, continuing onto their initiation into the Governor's town and how they had turned from guests to captives.

"'E found out we were wit' ya, I assume." Nora confessed. "Few of 'is blokes took turns wailing inta all of us. Me especially. Seemed I was t'e only one wit' a knack fer getting outta me cell. Wound up in solitary confinement. Hardly any food or water, burnin' sun... more bruises n' scrapes. And den... I was..." She paused, unsure of how she was to phrase such a horrific event. It seemed to flow in such perfect insanity from her mouth when she was telling it to Daryl before. She couldn't break like that. Not again. "'E buried me alive."

Rick seemed taken aback by how calmly she spoke about it. Nora gave him a look. How else was she supposed to say it?

"Buried you alive?" Lori gasped.

"I gotta spell it out for ya, Mother Goose? A hole six-feet-deep and a coffin wit' a breat'in' body inside. Buried alive. Me." She snapped, causing Lori to snap back almost defensively. Andrea placed a hand upon her shoulder to calm her Irish temper, which seemed to be flaring tenfold now. "I ain't a child, Blondie." She murmured venomously, knocking the girl's hand from her shoulder. "Eit'er way, I listened. Heard words exchanged about th'group. S'how I knew ye were alive."

Andrea sighed, accepting her defeated attempts to console her friend. But Nora mutely relished in her efforts when she proceeded to explain their escape.

Rick finally nodded and patted Andrea's shoulder. "Y'did good. All three of ya." He nodded courteously to Michonne, who returned it and stood, along with Andrea and Nora. "Get some rest, ladies. And thank ye. At least we know now that it ain't just walkers to be feared out here."

Daryl had sat in and listened to everything Lenora had to share about her experience over the time she had been gone. His eyes wandered back and forth between the Sheriff and the Irish woman as questions and answers were traded. At long last Rick felt he had heard everything he needed to know and excused himself from the three women. Daryl's gaze fell upon Nora briefly before he turned to follow Rick.

Andrea exchanged a few glances between Michonne and Nora before her emerald hues settled across the room to stare after the Redneck. After a moment she smiled gently. "I'm going to go to the bathroom." She lied as she quickly exited the room to catch up to the Hunter before he disappeared to his private cell block. "Daryl." She softly called out his name, just loud enough for him to hear.

The Redneck paused in his movement and turned to look over his shoulder at Andrea. He instantly saw the guilt in her eyes and couldn't help but squint his own at her. "What is it?" Daryl questioned quietly.

The blonde took in a deep breath of air as she seemed to struggle with how to bring up the topic she so greatly desired to discuss with him. She exhaled and swallowed hard. "There's something you need to know…" Andrea started slowly, to which Daryl quirked a brow at her. "…When we were there in Woodbury…The Governor had a couple of body guards with him. And one in particular seemed to be his right hand man…" She paused, as she suddenly grew timid.

"And?" Daryl said, seeming impatient with her. "Out with it."

Andrea swallowed once again, her bottom lip quivering slightly as she finally found courage to speak. "Merle.."

At first Daryl had thought he heard her wrong. His eyebrows pulled together and his expression twisted to something very distasteful as he asked, "What?"

"Your brother…Merle...He's alive, Daryl…"

Just when Daryl thought he had seen and heard it all, something else had to come and prove him wrong. His entire world swirled before his very eyes and everything he seemed to have been holding onto came crashing down. His breath was suddenly short and his heart was racing; pounding furiously in his chest. Merle… Merle was alive! His big brother had made it out of Atlanta after all! And all this time he had believed him to be dead. Daryl exhaled an uneven breath; his body wavered slightly, as if his weight was unsure of where to settle itself for a moment. A smile, unfitting to his emotion, twisted itself uncomfortably upon his face as he staggered away from Andrea, his head shaking vigorously as a soft chuckle came from him, as if in denial. His hand moved to reach towards his face, which had suddenly grown very hot. He wiped at the beams of sweat that coated his cheek and forehead and then pointed at Andrea. "You're lying. You're wrong..." He whispered hoarsely. His face suddenly contorted, his smile wiping clean off his face to pull downward into a deep scowl as his eyes started to rim with tears. He gritted his teeth and quickly turned away from Andrea, furious with the fact that he was allowing this woman to witness his vulnerability. Without even thinking, he balled his hand into a tight fist and swung as hard as he could at the wall to his left. The sound of a crack was heard and blood quickly began oozing between his curled fingers, running down the length of his arm and dripping onto the floor; but he felt no pain. Daryl's gaze was held firmly upon the wall, his eyes bearing a fury that had not been witnessed in a long time. Fear instantly washed over Andrea as she stood, watching as he took in quick, unsteady breaths.

"Daryl…" She whispered his name, her eyes wide. "I'm so sorry. I was afraid to tell you…I knew you'd want to look for him…but he's really dangerous…I didn't want to risk the safety of everyone." She stupidly rambled off, due to being scared out of her mind.

He slowly turned his head, his blue orbs locking intensely with hers. "….." Daryl slowly moved from his spot at the wall, revealing a bloodied imprint on the wall where his knuckle had collided with it, his body moving to face the blonde. She coward away from him, terrified by the look in his eyes, unsure of what he might do. His nostrils flared as he closed the distance between them, towering over her. "Did he touch her..?" Daryl questioned darkly.

Andrea's mouth fell open, having been completely taken by surprise with his question. "I-…What?" A look of confusion instantly sweeping over her fear-stricken face.

"DID HE HURT HER?" Daryl shouted angrily, causing Andrea to jump in her skin.

"I—I don't know. I don't know! She never said anything to me, if he did." Andrea answered quickly.

He held her gaze, his mouth closing to clench his jaw before he silently turned from her and walked away, with nothing to else to say, leaving her speechless and wondering if she had done the right thing by telling him.

The pale Irishwoman rang her fingers together nervously, trying to avoid Michonne's penetrating gaze. She frowned further and placed a hand upon Nora's shoulder; the first touch the young Galway Archer actually decided to let slide as she made eye contact with the katana-wielding warrior. A simple nod from the fellow fighter indicated that she did the right thing in allowing herself to be exposed like this... but she didn't feel it quite yet. What would Rick do? Seek revenge? It didn't seem right, in such a world as this. People couldn't just go about exacting vengeance when there was basic survival to be worried about.

"She's been in th'bathroom a long time, don't ya t'ink?" Nora inquired in desperate attempt to remove the focus from her rollercoaster of emotions. Michonne gave her yet another shield-dropping gaze and she leaned in.

"I don't think she went to th'bathroom at all." She replied. "Bathroom's that way. She went the other."

Nora shook her head, not fully understanding where the ebony-skinned female was getting to. But the ever-familiar shouts of a very pissed off Daryl pulled her into a stinging reality quicker than anything she'd ever felt before. She couldn't make out the words, though. Nothing but muffled shouts and pounding fists. Though the fucker hadn't paid heed to her presence in the past few weeks, she still held an annoying soft spot for him. She didn't understand it herself. Perhaps because he was so much like her yet... so damn confusing?