Ch. 3

After breakfast, the Governor led Daryl back to the bedroom, tied him back up and left for the day. For once, Daryl was grateful for this. He felt awful - tired, sick and depressed.

Up until then he had truly thought that his stay in Woodbury would be temporary. He'd helped the others many times before, and it seemed reasonable to think that they would do the same for him.

Apparently he was wrong, though.

Daryl closed his eyes and tried to think of something else, something to get his mind off of everything.

The first thought that came to mind was being with Carol. He imagined the two of them, in a safe place. Carol was sitting on the ground and Daryl was resting his head on her lap. She carded her hands through his hair, and it felt fantastic.

Daryl imagined what she smelled like: clean, with a touch of something flowery. Lavender, maybe. That was one thing he liked about her - she always smelled nice, even though they'd only had whatever soap they'd found in the prison to wash with. He wondered if she was just naturally like that, then. Nice smelling.

The hunter allowed himself to enjoy his fantasy for a little while, not wanting to face his current reality.

00

A little after midday, there was a knock on the bedroom door.

"Yeah?" Daryl called out.

He knew who was there. David always knocked before he came in. He wasn't sure why, but he did. Daryl kind of liked it though. It seemed like a nice gesture to a small extent, to treat him like a person who deserved privacy.

David walked in, closing the door behind him. Daryl struggled to turn to see him.

The kid wasn't too old. Early twenties, Daryl guessed. He was hispanic, muscular and well kept, with handsome features and long, straight, black hair which he always pulled into a ponytail.

"The Governor wanted me to check on you. How are you doing?"

"Fan-fucking tastic," Daryl replied sarcastically.

"Yeah, I know. Stupid question." David sat down on the edge of the bed. "You look a little pale."

The kid reached out and placed a hand on Daryl's head, checking for a fever.

"You don't seem warm. You feeling okay? Besides the handcuffs and all, I mean."

"Well…" Daryl started. He really didn't feel well. He'd been nauseous since breakfast, but he didn't know if he would be punished if he was found to be sick.

"Yes?" David asked. "You can tell me. I'll try to help you."

Daryl knew that the kid was being sincere. David actually seemed to care about his well-being. He was always very patient and gentle with Daryl and Daryl got the idea that the only reason he was even helping the Governor was to protect himself and his little daughter.

"I feel like I'm gonna throw up," Daryl admitted. "Since this morning."

David nodded, "I see. Anything else?"

"Not really. Just tired."

"Alright. I'll go down to the infirmary and see about getting you -"

"No," Daryl said, cutting the kid off. "Don't do that."

It would have been one thing if the kid had some medicine on hand, or at his home, or something, but Daryl still feared drawing more attention to his condition. If the kid went to the infirmary word would get back to the Governor for sure.

"Are you sure? It's really not a big deal, I'm sure they'll give me something for you to take."

"No. I'm fine, don't worry about it. It's nothing."

"Alright," David agreed, but Daryl could tell that the kid would probably be watching him like a hawk, at least for the next few days.

But the next words out of the kid's mouth were a total surprise.

"I hope you're telling the truth, because you have a big day coming up. It'd be a shame if you were too sick for it."

"I do?" Daryl asked. "What's goin' on?"

"Merle's coming to see you."

Daryl's eyes widened, and he began to feel a sliver of hope.

00

For the rest of the day, Daryl felt excited. Maybe when his older brother saw his condition, he'd get him out.

Merle had yet to visit him. Whether that was by Merle's own choice or not, Daryl wasn't sure.

He believed that Merle loved him. Granted, it was sort of a weird, twisted love, but it was there. He couldn't imagine that Merle would be okay with all of this.

The thought of being free pushed away any feelings of sickness or depression that Daryl had. The nausea he'd felt all day was gone, and he no longer felt tired.

Daryl spent several hours thinking about what he was going to say when Merle arrived, if he was even allowed to say anything. If he could get a few minutes alone with his brother, he would want to tell him what was going on. How he'd been raped, and beaten and starved, and how hurt he was, and how he just wanted to be released and that he wouldn't even try to come after the Governor, if he could get out of Woodbury.

That seemed fair. Merle might not help him if he felt that there would be some other battle because of it. Merle probably wouldn't want to be dragged into anything like that again.

With his mind made up about that, Daryl eventually drifted off to sleep, dreaming of Carol and the woods and fresh air and his crossbow.