Hershel entered the med room, fully prepared to be on the receiving end of one of Daryl's tantrums. He was going to disconnect the antibiotics IV and once the hollering and cussing was done, instruct Daryl to take the oral antibiotics he would leave him with every six hours. He was slightly surprised to find Daryl was still sleeping.

"Has he been awake at all?" he asked T-Dog as T-Dog reached over to hand Hershel the stethoscope. Hershel put it around his neck. He brought the stethoscope up and placed it against Daryl's chest. His heartbeat was strong and steady.

"Yeah, about ten minutes ago he woke up. He was in a real snit, gave me hell for touching him and then tried to march on out of here so he could chew you a new asshole." T-Dog's hand flew up to his mouth as the vet raised his eyebrows when he said 'asshole'. "Sorry."

"It's okay, son, we've all been under more stress than usual today and these things tend to slip out. I just need to desensitize myself to it a bit more. As long as I don't start hearing words like that coming out of my daughters' mouths with any regularity, I should be just fine." He motioned to Daryl, "So how did you convince him to settle down?"

"I didn't. He got out of the bed and stood up and passed out. His heart rate sped up a bit, but I figured that was to be expected. It slowed back down in a couple of minutes."

"Oh for heaven's sake. He didn't hit his head again did he?"

"Nah, I had hold of him. Damn, he's a stubborn motherfucker." T-Dog's hand flew to his mouth again, his eyes wide as he looked at Hershel to gauge the reaction to his slip.

Hershel winced at the profanity and bent over Daryl, pulling the sheet down to expose the bandaged incision. Blood had seeped through the top bandage and Hershel pulled another large gauze pad from the small stack of them Maggie had left on the small metal table with the bandage tape and the bottle of betadine.

Hershel removed the bloody bandage and checked the incision. It was still seeping blood and he wiped it away and swabbed it with betadine. He replaced the gauze bandage and taped it in place. "This should be okay until tomorrow. I'll have Maggie change it then." Hershel checked the bandage on Daryl's head wound. There was no blood on it and it was dry.

Hershel then prepared a small bandage with a couple of small squares of gauze and a piece of bandage tape. He moved over near T-Dog and T-Dog moved out of the way. Hershel took the nearly empty IV bag off the pole it hung on, gathered up the tubing and pulled the tape off where it held the needle in Daryl's arm. He then gently withdrew the needle. A rush of blood followed it as it slid free of Daryl's arm and Hershel pressed the gauze squares against it for about a minute, replaced the bloody squares with new ones, then taped them in place. He moved back to Daryl's left side and placed the IV bag and tubing into a trash can.

Hershel then grasped Daryl's right shoulder and shook it gently. "Daryl? I need to you to wake up." There was no response from the man, so Hershel shook him a bit harder. "Come on, son, I need to talk to you and I'm sure you've got plenty that you want to say to me." There was still no response from Daryl.

T-Dog reached over and slapped Daryl across the left side of his face. Hard.

Daryl jumped and his eyes flew open and he blinked. "What the fuck?" his voice was confused and angry and he brought his left hand up to his reddening face where he had just been slapped. His head cleared and he glared at Hershel. "Did you just fuckin' hit me? "

"I did," T-Dog confessed, "Just waking you up for the good doctor." T-Dog smiled as Daryl fixed his angry glare on him.

He then turned his head and glared again at Hershel, who was wearing a big dopey grin.

Hershel certainly hadn't expected the big man to slap the hunter, but it had done the job. The hunter was now wide awake. Hershel secretly wished he'd had the nerve to do that. God knows there were times lately where he would have liked to give Daryl Dixon a good, sound smack across the face. Hershel had also never heard anyone cuss like Daryl Dixon did in his whole life. He had given up trying to act disgusted whenever the hunter dropped the f-bomb because his face would have been in a state of constant contortions.

"I got a few bones to pick with you." Daryl told Hershel as he narrowed his eyes at him and intensified his glare.

"Pick away," invited Hershel. "but when you're done, I need to talk to you about these antibiotics," he shook a bottle of pills at Daryl. "and getting you up and moving around a little."

"I can't believe you went ahead an' fuckin' forced me to take fuckin' Walsh's blood!" Daryl yelled.

"I didn't hear you complaining during the transfusion." Hershel replied calmly, daring to poke the bear.

"'Course I din't complain, I fuckin' couldn't! An' what the hell was in that shot you gave me?! Just ain't right, whatcha done there! It ain't right." He took a breath and continued with his tirade. "An' Lord, it felt like you was tearin'my guts out with a rusty spoon! What th' fuck 's that all about?! Never felt nothin' so fuckin' painful in my life!"

Hershel nodded, he agreed. Daryl probably never had felt anything so painful in his life. He bit his tongue to keep from smiling as the grumpy man continued to bawl him out.

Daryl was getting louder. "I ain't never lettin' you touch me agin! Ain't never!" He turned to T-Dog, "an' you! You need to keep yer hands to yourself. You don't be touchin' me, fuckin' pettin' me! Damned weirdo."

T-Dog gave Daryl a "who me?" look of surprise and said in a soothing voice, "I never touched you, you must have imagined it."

Daryl closed his eyes and leaned back into his pillow, "Oh, fuck you, ya did too an' you know it. I woke up and you're bein' all creepy like an' pettin' my head like I'm a fuckin' dog. Don't know what your deal is, don't rightly care, but don't fuckin' touch me again."

The room was silent for about thirty seconds but it seemed a lot longer when Hershel finally spoke up. "Are you through, now?"

Daryl cracked an eye open and looked at him. "Said what I wanted to say." he grumbled.

"Alright then. I've removed the IV and you'll need to take two of these pills every six hours. They'll keep you from getting an infection." He shook the bottle at Daryl again. "It is imperative that you take these pills and that you don't miss a dose. Do you understand that, son?"

"Yeah, I got it." Daryl grumbled.

"I'll take those," T-Dog reached over Daryl to take the pills from Hershel. "I can make sure he gets them every six hours."

"Ain't you leavin' soon?" Daryl sounded irritated.

"Nope. Staying here with you tonight. I thought we could pop some popcorn, watch a movie, talk, maybe have a pillow fight."

"Great, an' let's polish each other's nails an' giggle n' swap stories 'bout how we lost our virginity. No fuckin' way man. Don't want no comp'ny tonight."

"Well that's just too bad." Hershel said stiffly. "Someone needs to be here to make sure you're all right. At least for a few days."

"Don't need no babysitter." Daryl grumped.

Hershel put up his hands as if in surrender. "Okay, okay. I just have one question. What happened about fifteen minutes ago? As I understand it, you were going to come looking for me but didn't quite make it a step away from this table. Would you please explain to me what happened?"

Daryl shot T-Dog a glare that dripped icicles. "Suspect you already know."

"So what caused it? Was it the pain?"

"Reckon so. Sort a snuck up an' hit hard. Weren't ready for it."

"Was it at the incision site, or your head?"

"My head."

"Because you moved too fast. The anesthesia takes a little while to work its way out of your system. You shouldn't be attempting any rapid movements for a while. Now if you'd fallen on the floor and cracked your head open…again….and no one was here, you'd be in a world of hurt, son, so just humor the old horse doc and let someone stay with you tonight. " What Hershel didn't tell Daryl was that it was the Midazolam shot he'd given Daryl that took a while to work out of his system, not the ether.

"Fine, fine. If'n y'all 'll get the hell off my case. But I ain't stayin' in this room. I wanna be in my own room."

T-Dog frowned. "You can't make it down two flights of stairs to first floor." He looked at Hershel for back up, "Can he?"

"I'd wait at least a couple of hours before I tried that, but with some assistance, I don't see why not. I want you to start getting up and walking around a bit tomorrow. If you're in bed too much, it can cause pneumonia and we don't want that. You need to remember to take those antibiotic pills, though, and I gave Rick some painkillers for you."

"I've got them right here." T-Dog patted his pants pocket.

"Oh, and Daryl?" Hershel asked, "I was told that I could take some meat from the freezers in the garage. Is that okay with you, son?"

Daryl scoffed, "Ain't mine to say so, belongs to the group. Someone said you could take some so help yourself.""

Hershel smiled, "Thank you. We're heading out soon so I'll see you tomorrow or Maggie will."

Daryl nodded and Hershel left the room.

Daryl sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed.

"And just what do you think you're doing now?" T-Dog asked with a touch of amusement.

"Gotta take a piss an' I don't need no help or an audience."

"I'll walk you to the door."

"I'm fine an' I don't need you comin' in with me to hold my dick for me or nothin' while I piss. Just back th' hell off."

T-Dog smiled. Damn, Daryl Dixon could be a real pain in the ass.

"I'll just follow behind you and no, I won't come into the bathroom with you."

T-Dog followed Daryl as he shuffled into the small bathroom to the left of the refrigerator that held the heat sensitive medications.

Daryl stepped into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. He emerged several minutes later.

"Did you wash your hands?" T-Dog teased.

"You my momma? Let's go. I wanna get downstairs."

"Hershel said to wait…"

"Yeah, yeah, I don't wanna wait. I'm feelin' okay now an' I don't like this room."

"Hey T-Dog, Daryl." Rick stood in the med room doorway. "You okay, Daryl?"

Daryl wished he was standing there in something more than just his boxers. "I'm good."

Rick smiled. The hunter was already up on his feet. Dixon really was a tough bastard. "We're heading out now. Daryl, I was wondering if you'd like us to take one of the windows out of your bedroom and make an entry out of it so you can go in and out that way, you know, without having to go through the house to the kitchen." He wanted to add 'since I know how uncomfortable we all make you,' but he thought better of it.

"I can just go in an' out the window when I'm better. It ain't no big deal."

"Well you think about it, okay? You all set, T-Dog?"

"I'm just fine. You guys have a safe trip back."

"Will do. See you guys tomorrow." Rick took one last look at the two men and waved as he left the room.

The walk down to Daryl's room wasn't so bad after all. Daryl went slowly, just a few stairs at a time and it took all of ten minutes before he was standing in the doorway of his room.

"So where am I supposed to sleep?" asked T-Dog as he looked around the bedroom. "The bed is big enough for both of.."

"No way in hell are you sleepin' in the same bed as me. No way in hell." Daryl snarled.

T-Dog had expected that reaction and had just been teasing. "The couch out here looks very comfortable. I can sleep there. Are you hungry? I can fix us something to eat."

"I'm good for now, but help yourself to whatever you want. There's food out in the garage in the freezers, too, if you can't find nothin' you like. Key's on the key rack by the back door."

T-Dog smiled as he remembered the ice cream in the freezer in the kitchen.

"Thanks, man. I am pretty hungry."

"An' I'm fuckin' beat. Feel like an ol' man." Daryl's left side had started to ache on his way down the stairs an now it was throbbing. "Gonna grab a glass a water an' take one a them pain pills an' lie down for a bit."

"I've got the pills right here, and here, let me get you a glass of water. "

"Just put 'em on the dresser an' I can get it myself."

T-Dog moved past Daryl into the bathroom and filled the glass next to the sink with cold water.

"I tol' you.."

"Just shut up and let me help you a bit, okay?"

Daryl sighed. "You don't hafta, you know."

"I want to. You need to let people help you once in a while. You saved my ass twice and you didn't have to. I was pretty sure you hated me, but you don't do you?"

"You and Rick, y'all saved my ass. I'd say that makes us even. An' hate's a purty strong word. Only hated a few people in my life, but disliked the hell out a most a the rest of 'em."

T-Dog smiled, knowing he wasn't going to get an answer to his question, but not really minding. He set the glass of water on the nightstand. "Holler if you need anything, and I won't forget to remind you to take your antibiotics."

"Yeah, whatever," Daryl grumbled as he sat on the edge of the bed.

T-Dog left the room in a hurry to get to the kitchen and Daryl opened the top drawer of the nightstand. He grabbed the Morphine tablets bottle and opened it, dumping one out into his hand. He swallowed it, then returned it to the drawer and slid himself back towards the middle of his bed. He didn't bother to retrieve either of the Blackhawks or his Bowie knife. He was just going to nap a bit and T-Dog would be keeping watch. He settled down on his right side, buried his head in the pillows, and pulled the blue quilt up under his chin. He was a little cold and it was warm and soft. He reflected for a moment on how nice and warm and safe he felt in this room and in this bed. He certainly didn't deserve it and he waivered again, thinking he should give up the room to Lori and Rick. He heard T-Dog banging around in the kitchen and singing some silly song. He yawned and pulled the quilt tighter around him. T-Dogs singing seemed to get further and further away as he drifted off to sleep.

Rick and his party returned from the lake house and were met by a curious and excited group. Glenn, Andrea and Carl helped Shane bring the frozen food items into the house to put in the freezer. Shane had filled a garbage bag with ice and had packed it around the frozen food in the bed of the truck after they'd walked through the impassible roadblock.

"Wow," exclaimed Carl, "look at all this bacon! There must be, like twenty pounds of it!"

Rick shot Shane a glance and Shane smiled and shrugged.

"Holy cow!" It was Lori. "Is that Ben and Jerry's ice cream? You brought some back?" She smiled a big smile at Rick.

Rick motioned to Shane. "Shane was in charge of getting the food together, so don't thank me, thank him."

Shane smiled at Lori and his cheeks blushed red, "I've heard that a lot of pregnant ladies crave ice cream, so I just figured I'd bring some on back."

"Awwwww…it isn't all for Mom, is it?" Carl looked extremely disappointed.

Lori mussed up his hair with her hand, "No," she laughed, "It isn't all for mom."

Hershel was pleased with the amount of meat Shane had packed up. He had initially been concerned that it was too much, but Shane had insisted that it was a very small amount compared to how much the freezers held and besides, the group had Daryl and he would be bringing in fresh meat on a regular basis once he was well enough to hunt again.

Hershel invited everyone into the house for dinner and said he'd discuss the happenings at the lake house then.

Carol approached him when he entered the house. She bit her lower lip and nervously rubbed and pulled and twisted her hands in each other. "I know you said you'd tell us what went on at dinner tonight, but to be quite honest, I don't think I can wait that long. I'm sorry…but I need to know. Is Daryl okay?"

Hershel smiled at the timid woman. "It was a good thing that I went out there today. Daryl needed surgery, but he's going to be just fine."

The color drained from Carol's face and she sat down on the couch. "Surgery? He needed surgery? Why? What happened? Were you able to..?"

Hershel sat on the couch next to her and patted her shoulder. "He was bleeding internally. I was quite worried about it at first. Luckily, I was able to find the damaged arteriole quickly without having to do much of an exploratory search. It was a relatively easy fix as far as internal bleeding surgeries go. The house is set up with a room specifically for medical treatment. The supplies, drugs and antibiotics….it was truly a God send. " Hershel smiled at Carol. "He had lost quite a bit of blood over the last few days, but Shane was a match to his type, so we were able to get in a blood transfusion before surgery. It worked out rather well."

"Shane gave blood for Daryl?" Carol looked surprised.

"Yes, he did, a pint and a half. He might very well have saved Daryl's life. It kept his blood pressure from dropping too low during surgery and replaced some of the blood he'd already lost. If I had had to do the surgery without a transfusion, he very well could have gone into shock and I could have lost him." He patted Carol on the shoulder and rubbed her back in a fatherly gesture. "He was already wide awake and giving me hell just before we left. He's a tough one and I'm confident that he'll be just fine."

Carol smiled at the thought of Daryl giving the man that had just saved his life a hard time. Yes, that sounded like Daryl alright. "Thank you." she said to Hershel. "Thank you for helping him and thank you for letting me know what happened."

Hershel smiled back at her and stood up. "I've got to go see what we're having for dinner and get washed up."

Carol stood, too, "And I need to go help in the kitchen. Thank you again, Dr. Greene."

"It's Hershel." Hershel said, his voice kind and gentle. He gave her a wink and turned and walked off towards the bathroom.

T-Dog grabbed the key marked 'garage' off the key holder next to the kitchen door and stepped out onto the back porch. He had eaten some microwaved frozen eggrolls and an enchilada, but they hadn't quite hit the spot. He had plans for some of the ice cream in the freezer, but he wanted something to eat to complete his dinner before he dove into dessert. He whistled as he approached the garage and unlocked the side door. He entered the freezer room and flipped on the lights. This was going to be fun. He started opening and closing freezers until he got to the 'junk food' freezer. Frozen pizza rolls, little bagel pizzas, a whole box of deep dish pepperoni individual pizzas and was that a box of….it was! Hot pockets! He grabbed the box of ham and cheese hot pockets and the deep dish pizzas and slammed the freezer shut. Oh, this was going to be heavenly!

He locked the door to the garage from the inside and closed the door, checking the knob to make sure it had locked. He started whistling when he heard a low groan coming from his right. He immediately stopped and looked. There was a walker in torn and dirty, decaying camouflage clothing pressed against the chain link fence. T-Dog dropped the hot pockets and the pizza boxes.

T-Dogs eyes widened. Another walker, dressed in similar ragged clothing, crashed out of the woods and joined the first one at the fence. As T-Dog stood there, frozen to the spot, two more snarled and groaned and made their way from the woods to the fence. They pushed against it and growled and snapped and reached their fingers through the fence. Three more arrived and now there were seven camo-clad walkers pushing against the fence and moaning, hungry for his flesh.

T-Dog reached down and retrieved his pizza and hot pockets and ran to the house, stomping across the porch and slamming the door behind him as soon as he was inside.

What a rotten place to end a chapter! I know, I know…but I've got to maintain my stinker status. =)