Beth did not like A block. The whole scene reminded her too much of the beginning of the initial outbreak; pictures and television stills of hospital rooms full of sick and frightened people swam to the forefront of her mind, of people confused, not knowing why they were sick, what was happening to them, or what any of it meant. Her own mother, up in the bedroom she had shared with her father since before Beth had been born, sweating through a fever she would never recover from with a smile and some knitting needles. Then the initial images of the dead coming back, their eyes reopening, only this time blank and empty, the mouths of friends and neighbours and loved ones curling up into snarls, the coughs of fever breaking into groans of the undead – only to her family, they hadn't been undead, just another stage of sick.

There was glass between Beth and the infected in A block, but it did not stop the sound of their coughing from breaking through. It rose the hairs all over her body and turned her blood cold. People were dying in there, trapped. Helpless. And her daddy was in there.

Maggie had fought with him that morning, asking him not to go inside, to keep himself away, but he was a good, stubborn man, and his need to help outweighed his need to care for himself and Beth could appreciate that. They all had their jobs to do. So the two sisters looked through the glass now as he moved his way from cell to cell, administering water and food and any friendly advice to the sick inside from behind a flimsy face mask – until Daryl and the others returned, he had no more than that to offer.

And now as Beth watched him emerge from another cell, pause and take a deep breath beneath his mask, guilt surged within her. He was getting old and he was missing a leg, and Beth could see the toll it was taking on him; the light beads of sweat that clung to his forehead, tendrils of white hair plastered amongst them. She ought to be in there, too, helping. She knew a thing or two about medical science, she had helped her father out plenty of times and had aspired to be a vet. But this was different. She couldn't apply ointment or stitch this better. This was a whole other league and there was no way her father would have allowed her inside. He was a good man, but his daughter's came first.

Beth heard her sister sigh. It was deep and painful and it tugged at Beth's heartstrings.

No matter how scared Beth was, Maggie was feeling worse. She looked sideways at her older, stronger sister, who was staring into the glass tight lipped, arms folded, eyes red. Glen had gone in last night; Maggie had spoken to him through the glass that morning, but then Hershel had made him go on and rest. The cells on the ground floor were all taken by this point so Glen had had to go upstairs, and Hershel did not want him travelling up and down the stairs too often in fear of it jeopardising his health, so Maggie had not seen him again since. He had promised to see her again that evening but Beth believed Maggie knew it was unlikely – he was growing sicker. So instead Maggie was just watching and staying strong, but Beth knew she was falling apart inside. She wanted to say something, to comfort her, but short of 'it'll be alright', she had run dry.

Beth had not gotten the chance to speak with Daryl herself before he left this morning, so she understood her sister's frustration; she had sat and comforted her sister for a long time last night, and Daryl had not returned to the cell block until much later, by which point Beth had already given up and gone to bed, having not been able to walk around the prison and look for him. When she had risen the next morning, he was already gone.

She was as worried about him as she always was whenever he left the prison; she knew he handled himself just fine out in the big wide world, but there was more to it this time. It wasn't just Daryl's life on the line, it was the entire prison's, because without the medication they could bring back, the sickness would not stop, it would spread, and eventually, they would all die.

As if in answer to her thoughts, a strong chorus of coughing built up from behind the glass. Beth glanced across at her sister, biting her lip, but Maggie just remained stony faced, staring straight ahead into the room behind the glass.

The coughing rose to a climax before stopping, abruptly. Not long after, Hershel appeared from a cell block and locked the door. As he turned away, he spotted his daughters at the glass. His blue eyes were sombre above his mask, and Beth could read them simply. Another had died.

'Let's get outside for a little while,' She offered, watching as her sister fretfully bit at her own lower lip.

Slowly, Maggie nodded.

It was cool outside and the sky was dim, but it was a lot better than being stuck inside. The corridors were beginning to feel smaller and darker and Beth could feel herself growing sick of the same routes, the same rooms, the same dark and cold. The prison had been a blessing when they had first found it, and as a group they had put a lot of time and effort into renovating it, clearing it of walkers, reinforcing the walls and fences and even growing their veg patch – but it was difficult never being able to leave the same confines.

And now this sickness was sweeping through it, threatening everything they had built up. It had killed their livestock, their own people, and Beth felt like she was slowly suffocating.

Beth sat down on the grassy verge, looking out over the fences beyond. The walkers beyond were growing, the initial build up was only getting worse and the reinforcement of the fences would not last much longer. Rick and Carl were clearing the walkers a little way off, and Beth looked out at them with a sense of dread deep in her stomach. Things were changing around her, and something told her it was not for the better.

'He'll be alright you know.'

'Huh?'

'Daryl.'

Beth looked over at her sister, who had sat down adjacent to her, her knees drawn up to her chest. She was looking across at her little sister, her tired face offering sympathy. Beth felt her heart lighten as she looked at her sister, her own heart so heavy and her own life so torn, but still trying to support her baby sister. Maggie nodded down at Beth's wrist, which Beth had absent-mindedly been stroking. Beth glanced down too, seeing her thumb gently rubbing over the slightly raised patch of skin where the little arrow lay. It was her link to Daryl, wherever he was, reminding her of the secret times they would spend together, of their connection, and she often found herself looking at it or running her fingers across it when she missed him, the gentle bump it created comforting.

Beth pulled her sleeve down to cover it and sighed.

'I know,' she said, 'but I still worry.' Then she shook her head and offered her sister a smile. 'Anyway, that doesn't matter, not when you have Glen to worry about.'

Maggie smiled.

'Glen will be okay. I trust Daryl to get the medicine and Daddy is in there with him. They'll all be okay.'

Beth nodded.

'It's still weird though.' Maggie said.

'What is?'

'You and Daryl.'

Beth looked at her sister, confused.

'You don't suit at all, you know.' Maggie said. 'But it works.'

'Yeah,' Beth looked back ahead at the wandering walkers, their blank eyes staring in through the fence. 'To think, without them -' she nodded down to the fence, 'we never would have even met.'

'Neither would Glen and I.' Maggie said.

'Strange what life throws you.'

'It is.'

The two sister's sat in silence for a little longer, both contemplating their separate lives and the strange paths they had taken. The world had fallen apart around them, but they had both landed on their feet. Yet life was not so simple, as both sister's felt only too well now, as they sat on the outskirts of the prison grounds, both waiting on the fate of their respective loved ones, as one fought through a deadly virus and the other fought off danger to retrieve him help.

'It's getting worse.' Maggie said. 'The fence.'

Beth nodded.

'We'll have to do something about it -'

'Maggie,' Rick's voice made Beth jump; she had not seen him leave the fence. Rick crouched down between them, his face dark and grave, a light bruise decorating his jaw and his right hand bandaged. 'How's Glen?'

'He's okay,' Maggie said, 'I saw him this morning, he's fighting it. And daddy is in with him. I just came out for some air.'

'A good idea.' Rick nodded. 'Carol and I are going out on a supply run.'

'Let me come with you?' Maggie asked, standing up. Rick stood up too.

'No,' he shook his head, 'I need someone keeping watch over the sick – stay here and be with Glen.'

Maggie sighed and ran a hand through her dark hair.

'Okay.' She said. 'But don't be away too long. We need you here.'

Rick nodded and gently patted Maggie's shoulder, pausing to smile down at Beth before walking away.

Maggie put out a hand to her little sister and helped pull her to her feet.

'Let's check on daddy.' she said.

. . .

The next couple of days dragged by; Beth spent a lot of her time with Judith whilst Rick was out and Carl spent a lot of time down at the fences. She wanted to help her daddy, but he refused to allow her within cell block A. Judith, aside from Daryl, was the only thing that really took her mind off of the state of things around her. Although she felt bad whenever Judith reached her podgy little hands up to her, asking to be held, for Beth's body was still too sore and broken to carry the baby.

Beth had left the confines of the prison to check on her sister and get some fresh air when Rick returned the following morning. Beth, unable to be of any help due to the lack of mobility in her arms, was watching her sister chop wood from afar, turning a gun over and over in her hands just encase anything were to go wrong, despite the force of Michonne and Carl and the fences. She spotted the car driving up the dirt track before her sister did.

'Car!' she called out to her.

Maggie took a step back, dropped her axe and wiped the sweat from her face. She headed to the gates and pulled them open. The car drove in and idled to a stop.

Beth got to her feet and walked over to the car as the door opened and a tired Rick stepped out and headed back towards Maggie, who was pulling the gates back behind her with a huff.

'Carl, Judith, are they okay?' he called.

'Yeah,' Maggie breathed, checking him over. 'Where's Carol?'

'Glen, Hershel, Sasha?' he asked; he seemed erratic, frantic.

'Yeah, it's bad, but they're fighting it. Daryl's not back yet.' Maggie nodded. 'Rick -'

Rick began to walk away from her, back to the car.

'Rick!' she called again, catching Beth's eye over his shoulder. 'Rick, where's Carol?'

Rick stopped by the open car door, catching sight of Beth. Beth stopped, watching him. He looked her over for a moment, his chest rising and falling as he took several deep breaths. Rick turned away from her and headed back over to Maggie, his boots crunching over the gravel as he walked, loud and oppressing in the relative silence.

'It was her, she killed Karen and David.' He said. He spoke quietly and to Maggie alone, but Beth caught his words. Her heart skipped then plummeted, a roll of nausea spreading through her. Past Rick, Beth could see her sister's face as she stared at Rick, her mouth dropping open. Beth watched as she took a step back, her eyes dropping to the floor in disbelief.

'She was trying to stop it from spreading,' Rick said, and Beth heard his voice shake. 'Tyreese is going to be back here soon so I didn't think she should be here. And I couldn't have her here. She has a car, supplies, she'll figure it out. I'll tell your dad. Don't tell anyone else yet.'

Maggie was breathing deeply, but she blinked several times in a way Beth knew was her attempt to calm herself.

'Okay.' she breathed.

Beth watched as Rick took several steps back. There was a lump in her throat and she could feel her eyes beginning to swell up; Daryl had been right, it had been an attempt to stop the spread.

'Would you have brought her back?' Rick asked Maggie.

'She said she did it?'

'Yeah.'

Beth saw the life fade from her sister's face then, any glimmer of hope she had gone.

'Then you were right to send her away,' she sighed. 'I don't know if I could have.'

'You could've Maggie. You've done harder things. Don't doubt yourself.' He turned away from her and headed back to the car. 'We don't get to any more.'

Beth stepped aside as Rick drove the car past her and further up the path. Maggie walked towards her.

'You heard that?' she asked.

'Yeah,' Beth breathed. There were tears rolling down her cheeks.

. . .

Somewhere outside of the prison, the sun was setting, but Beth could not see it for she had retired to her own cell. Dinner had been cold soup, their meat rations having run out and their livestock being no more, so she lay in bed looking up at the bunk above her, thinking idly about the dull pain in her shoulder as her stomach rumbled. She reached her arms up above her and flexed her fingers, testing out the mobility in her arm.

'Getting better,' she murmured to herself, her voice sounding raspy in the small, echoing chambers of the room. 'You'll be up and about in no time!'

A gunshot echoed through the prison.

Beth sat up, her hands grasping at the sheets beneath her. She looked around the room, her heart in her throat, as if expecting to see a gun-wielding maniac in her room. She wiped her lips on the back of her hand as she gathered her thoughts.

'Daddy,' she gasped then, her brain kicking into action, and pulled herself up from her bed.

She headed out for the corridor and out through the block into the rest of the prison. Another shot echoed.

'Maggie!' Beth cried, spotting her sister.

'Beth! Stay there!' Maggie called back to her; she was already at A block and was attacking the glass of the door with an axe.

'Open the door!' she screamed inside to no-one.

'Go through the visitor's room!' Beth shouted, reaching her sister and pausing to look through into the room beyond, which was dark and hazy.

Out of breath, Maggie nodded.

'Stay here,' she said.

'No way.' Beth said.

As Maggie took off towards the visitor's wing, Beth followed her. The sister's ran down the corridor, Beth's chest screaming at her, and skidded around the corner. Maggie flung her axe at the window of the room, shattering it, then clambered in.

'Careful!' she called to Beth, holding out a shaking hand to help her sister through.

Gingerly, Beth climbed in after her, her breathing heavy.

They ran through, past the tables and chairs and towards the back door, which Maggie threw herself at, flinging it open.

The room beyond was dark and the floor slick with blood. A young blonde woman Beth did not know lay face up, her eyes wide, a gunshot wound in the middle of her forehead, from which blood was pouring from, pooling around her and gathering in her light hair.

'Daddy!' Maggie called.

Beth tapped her sister's arm and pointed to the netting above them, on which her father was wrestling with a growling walker. Beth felt her blood run cold. Maggie raised her gun.

'No!' Hershel called, 'you might hit the bag! We need it for Glen!'

Beth swallowed, watching in pain as her father grappled with the walker, which she saw now was wearing a breathing tube. There was blood running down her own chin from her bottom lip, through which she had bitten. Maggie was shaking, the gun still aimed up above them.

She heard Maggie take a deep breath and watched as she steadied herself, seeing the calmness drain over her, her eyes focusing. Time slowed down.

She fired.

Beth winced and ducked slightly; the bullet hit its target and the walker stopped moving.

She breathed out the breath she had been holding and Beth realised she had been holding her own, too.

'Where is he?' Maggie called, as Hershel pushed himself onto all fours.

'He's up here. Cell 100.' He called back.

Maggie made for the stairs and Beth followed her, heading towards her father.

Beth reached him as he struggled off of the netting, holding out a hand for him to grab. In a shaking hand he held the breathing device.

'He's turning blue!' Maggie screamed from somewhere behind them.

Beth ran towards her voice as their father told her to clear his airways.

'Get him on his back,' he said, as Beth stopped at the door to the cell.

She froze. Beth had never seen Glen so pale. He was gasping, choking on his own blood which was running steadily from his open mouth, sputtering out and down over his chest and onto the dark, cold floor beside him. Maggie, the fear on her face palpable, tried to hold him still as Hershel got the tube down his throat. He pumped the tube, forcing the air into his lungs, as Maggie stroked his face.

Slowly, Glen's chest began to move more steadily.

'He's breathing,' Beth gasped, falling to her knees beside them both.

Hershel did not say anything, but Maggie leant down to kiss Glen gently on each cheek.

'I didn't want you in here.' Hershel said. 'Either of you.'

'I know.' Maggie said, looking up at her father, 'but I had to.'

'Just like you.' Beth said.

Hershel reached out and stroked his hand down his youngest daughter's face. He was not mad, just tired.

Suddenly, a loud bang on the outside of the main door shook them all. Beth looked up at her father.

'See who it is, will you?' Hershel asked her.

Beth nodded. She pushed herself up, glanced down again at her family, her sister's eyes unable to leave her husbands face. Carefully, she stepped around the dead bodies and walked down the stairs. From the middle of the ground floor, Beth could see Michonne at the door. She was holding up a bag.

Beth hurried to it and unlocked it with a grunt; it was a lot heavier than it looked, and it tore at her shoulder to move it.

'Beth are you sick?' Michonne asked as Beth pulled the door back, but suddenly Daryl had pushed Michonne aside, one large hand shoving the door back with more strength and speed than Beth would have ever been able to muster, knocking her back slightly.

'No,' Beth said quickly, 'no I'm fine, but daddy got overrun... there are a lot of dead.'

'Sasha?' Then Tyreese was there.

'She's okay,' Beth said. She pointed to the cell Sasha was in and Tyreese shoved past her and for it, the sound of the cell door drawing open loud and grating in the room.

'You shouldn't be in here.' Daryl said.

The other's had entered the room and Daryl was the last to step over the threshold. He was watching her, his face grave.

'That doesn't matter now.' Beth said. 'Did you get everything?'

'Mhm.' Daryl nodded, closing his eyes for a moment.

Beth took that moment to look him over; there was dried blood in his hair and up his arms, dried on dirt across his pants and up the one sleeve that was left on his shirt, and his cheek was bleeding.

'Are you okay?' Beth asked.

Daryl opened his eyes and looked down at her. He nodded. Then he gestured his head for her to follow him. Slowly, one hand against her chest, Beth followed him up the stairs.

Beth stayed and watched as her father mixed the medicine together then carefully measured it into syringes, which he handed out to those around him. Daryl went with Beth as she carefully made her way down the corridor, checking for people within the cells.

Daryl opened the doors for her and checked the person over, ensuring they were not dead or worse, then stood back and watched as Beth administered the medication to them.

The sun was rising beyond the prison by the time every patient had been seen to and every single person Beth saw looking both physically and emotionally exhausted.

'How was your trip?' Beth asked Daryl as they headed back towards Glen's cell. Daryl had followed Beth as she walked around and had opened the doors and put down any stray walkers, those who had died during the chaos and reanimated inside their locked cells, but he had not said anything.

Daryl yawned.

'Hard.' he admitted.

Beth nodded.

They had gotten Glen up off of the floor and onto his bunk, gently wiping his brow whilst Maggie continued squeezing the breathing bag.

'How is he doing?' Beth asked softly.

'Better,' Hershel said, as Maggie looked up through red, tired eyes.

'They're here now, daddy,' Beth said, reaching out and squeezing her father's shoulder. 'You should get some rest.'

'Beth is right.' Maggie yawned, 'go. We've got this.'

Hershel nodded.

'Come on,' Beth said, helping her father up.

The old man got to his one good foot and allowed Daryl to help him out and down the stairs.

'I'll see you in the morning.' Beth said to her sister.

Maggie just nodded back. Beth wanted nothing more than to tell her to go to bed too, to get some sleep, some rest, but she knew she would never listen. Being with Glen now was more important.

The three of them walked back from A block slowly. Hershel was so tired he could hardly keep his eyes open and Beth's chest was burning in pain.

'You did good on the meds, Daryl.' Hershel yawned as they arrived at his bunk.

Daryl just nodded.

'Get some sleep, daddy. I'll come and see you in the morning.' Beth said, leaning in to give her father a hug.

'You do realise you have been exposed now right, Beth?' her father replied, taking a moment to look sternly at his youngest daughter, tight lipped beneath his beard. 'If you feel sick at all, any coughing, sneezing, tell me. Or just tell someone. You may need the anti-biotic's.'

Beth nodded.

'You understand?' Hershel asked.

'Yes, daddy.' Beth said, smiling, 'I understand.'

Hershel nodded once.

'Go to bed.' he said.

'Yes, sir.' Beth yawned.

Daryl walked her back to her own cell.

'I'll see you tomorrow.' He said.

'You don't want to come in?' Beth asked.

Daryl shook his head, looking down at her through such drawn, tired eyes.

'I jus' need t' lay down an' crash.' he said.

'I didn't mean-'

'I know,' Daryl reached out and stroked a hand down her hair, pushing it back from her face. 'I jus' need to crash.'

Beth nodded.

'I'll see you in the morning, then.' She said.

Daryl watched her as she walked into her room and sat on her bed. He nodded to her, which she returned with a small smile. Once he left, Beth listened to the sound of his boots as he headed towards his own room. She sighed heavily and began to undress, suddenly overcome with exhaustion.