He didn't think he'd ever forget how cold Warren felt in his arms. The boy was cold, and light, and shaking in his arms as they walked, Daryl only going as fast as he figured would be comfortable for the boy in his arms. He pulled the boy close, feeling the chill through his jacket, the sickly smell of stale iodine that was infection strong now, stronger that he was close.

Alexandria was gathered at the gates when they arrived. They tittered, hushed, talking to each other, quiet like church mice. Rick expected them to scatter, to let them through, but they didn't, blocking the path, closing them in tightly. Daryl could see the hatred in a few of the faces around them, quiet, seething hatred. Glen pushed through the crowd the other way, offering to take the heavy body and let Daryl's arms rest, holding Warren like he was delicate, breakable. Aaron followed, trying to calm the residents, creating a buffer between them.

"Let us through." Rick was calm, but urgent, trying to press past the people, but they herded tighter.

"Why did you bring it back?" One asked, incredulous, almost furious.

"We threw it out for a reason!" Another provided, angry.

"We don't want it, or anything having to do with it!" A third called. If they hadn't been so quick in succession, they wouldn't have gotten to three, because as they spoke Daryl was trying to pick out faces in the crowd. He managed to center on the third speaker, an older woman, and if it hadn't been for Aaron bodily holding him back, she would be dead. Daryl was furious, fighting against the slightly shorter man wildly.

"Say that again!" He was loud, obstinately so, and it was honestly taking all of Aaron's strength just to keep Daryl from swinging on old people, because they didn't have the medical supplies to fix people like that. "Say that again so I can shove my fist in your god damn mouth!" He struggled, nearly cold clocked Aaron in the back of the head with an elbow, and then stilled. Maggie had, as they had asked, fetched Pete, who was parting the crowd like a red-headed Messiah, bottle in hand.

"You called me out here to fix that thing? I thought we'd gotten rid of the tranny scum a long fuckin' time ago!" Pete giggled, drunk, reeking of alcohol and hatred. "I'm not fixing shit. You're better off just throwing it out, like the rest of the garbage." He waved the bottle, a half empty tanker of Tequila, of all things, at Rick like this was an oversight on his part. "I thought you were 'supposed to keep out the rabble, not drag it in."

"Warren's dying!" Daryl snapped, the sudden burst almost knocking Aaron over, who struggled to keep Daryl from slamming into the residents who formed around Pete like they were going to be protected by him. "Who're you to decide who lives or dies?!"

"He's one of us now." Rick's voice was low, dangerous, and Daryl stilled again, tense behind Aaron's grasp, jittery like a dog told to wait. Rick stepped up, and the people scattered away from him, leaving Pete in the open, alone. "As far as I am aware, he even passed Deanna's test the first time around, which is all any of these other people need. I'd suggest," Rick pressed up towards Pete, hot tequila breath in his face, nose to nose, "you turn around and get your things ready, like a real surgeon, before things get bad." Rick's warning took a moment to pass behind Pete's eyes, and when it did, he flipped.

"Like a real surgeon?!" Pete laughed, loud and bawdy, shaking his head. "What are you gonna do if I don't, huh? Put me in jail? You don't have any real power here! It's just a facade! I want to see you try and make me help that faggot."

Rick stepped back as he spoke, and Daryl pounced on cue. Even if Aaron had been ready for it, he probably would have let it happen anyway, but as it was Daryl just slipped from his barrier so fast he couldn't react to it. Daryl didn't have to think too much, feet already poised to jump, scabbed knuckles itching to hurt someone for talking bad about Warren like that. Pete's face was red, and he wasn't prepared for the pounce, and Daryl knocked him over quickly. They struggled, Pete going for his usual strangle technique, Daryl pounding his fists into Pete's face. Eventually Pete got the brilliant idea to swing with his bottle hand, and the glass shattered over Daryl's head, but it didn't deter the hunter. It only made him hit harder, and the blood was already flowing anyway.

"Stop!" Deanna was running when she arrived a few moments later. It had felt like they'd been fighting forever, but they'd only been tussling for a moment. "What's going on?!"

"Pete was refusing to treat a dying boy who, as far as I was told, had already been a resident here." Rick said, softly, crossing his arms. He wasn't wrong, and he knew it - he had every right to try and save a life, and there was no harm in what he was doing. Deanna crossed her arms, already aware of the situation, and already aware that any decisions she needed to make had already been made for her, really. She didn't need to be told what was going on - the chattering Rick's group had done hadn't been kept a secret, which is how most of the place knew Warren was coming back before he even got there. Daryl hopped to his feet, a little wobbly - the blow to the head hadn't been for nothing, apparently - and pulled Pete up with him. The surgeon was groggy and bleeding profusely from where Daryl had nearly broken his nose, and Daryl looked just as bad.

"Pete." Deanna was stern, and knowing, and the people moved around her gently, like she was a disturbance in a pond. "Go to the infirmary and help the boy." She ordered. Pete looked ready to protest, but she stopped him with a hand. "If you don't, I'll have to figure out what the punishment will be for attempted murder, and I'll have you know it won't be in your favor." She looked serious, and he grumbled. There was no protesting at this point, not when the only person he considered superior to himself was telling him he would be punished readily for his transactions if he didn't.

"He doesn't deserve to live anyway!" Pete called as a last fuck you to the system he thought was putting him down, stumbling to the infirmary. Glen started to follow after with Warren in his arms, but Daryl stopped him, gently taking Warren's light body from him. He didn't trust Glen to protect Warren if Pete decided to try and kill him anyway, since Glen wasn't the punch someone's face until they give in kind of retaliator. Glen followed anyway, Maggie behind him.

"I'm also going to take away his alcohol for a while." Deanna murmured to Rick, as the parties left. She thought she would be alone, but the residents lingered. "Okay, you can all go home." She was loud, tired now, and they scattered, embarrassed to be caught. Rick pressed a hand to her arm once they all left, leading her to the infirmary after the others. She went with, quiet for a moment, watching the curtains on the building flutter. "You're going to want answers, aren't you?" She asked, like she didn't want to give them.

"Eventually." Rick nodded, heading up the stairs. "Daryl knows the most, and he hasn't told me a lot, but I feel like he may have a lingering question." Rick paused at the door, the inside quiet. Inside the door, Glen was against the wall, Daryl pacing, bloody faced, in the hallway.

"They got Warren some anti-biotics, and he's resting on a table now." Glen said, almost immediately. He looked wide eyed, and sad, like what he'd seen had left an impression on his psyche. He was never going to forget the sight of Daryl carting Warren though the doors, the limpness of the boy's limbs, and how, for a moment, it was all too much like Beth. "Maggie is helping Pete patch his face in the same room, and then she'll patch Daryl's. We need to set up a bed somewhere for the kid to rest while he heals, but he should be fine with rest." Glen nodded, smiling a little.

The door opened, and Daryl jumped at it like he wanted in, but Maggie stepped out first, bodily keeping Daryl from Pete or the door. Pete slipped out, and she closed it, much to Daryl's ire. "Pete, go home." Deanna said, and Pete did as he was asked, face bandaged like a mummy. Daryl tried to go past Maggie, but she stopped him again and again.

"Lemme see 'm!" Daryl snapped, but his anger only made Maggie more resolved to not let him through.

"No. What's gonna happen is you're gonna go into the other room so I can look at your head." Maggie said, softly. "Then you and Deanna have some questions to answer, because if these people are that hostile towards him, we need to know exactly why. And then, when we're done, you can see him, and by then we should have a bed ready for him in the house." She was stern, and firm, and Daryl eventually conceded attempting to get past her anyway. "I don't want to have to talk about what happened to him around him, especially if he wakes up." Maggie added, and at this, Daryl had to agree.

"Alright. But this better be fast."

~o~o~

"I remember having him as a resident." Deanna was speaking now. Daryl had told them everything he knew that he thought relevant - that Warren was trans, that this was a big secret, and that people didn't like that - and was currently getting his head sewn up. The bottle had nearly cracked his skull open, and he'd been bleeding profusely down the back of his head. Whatever hope this shirt had at being clean, it had gone ages ago. "He was a sweet kid, and a hard worker. He had no intention of hurting anyone, and he had asked me to keep his issue a secret, and I tried. But a few of the residents found the tapes anyway." Deanna sighed, pressing her hands to her face. "They hated him as soon as they knew. They'd throw bottles at his windows, cover his porch in glass - they acted like children." She was furious with her own residents, furious with how this went. She looked at the floor. "Then, one night, a few of them broke in and took it farther than any of us had ever expected. I was only aware after the fact, but they broke one of his windows, snuck inside, and took him outside the walls while he was sleeping. They didn't tell me what they did, but Aaron had followed them and knew - they'd beaten him within an inch of his life and left him there. Aaron cut him down from where they'd strung him up and made sure he'd be alright on his own just after, and he hasn't been back since." She sighed.

"But do you know who?" Rick asked, all protective masculinity in his uniform. "We need to know, because they shouldn't be allowed around Warren without supervision, at the very least."

"I know Aiden admitted to it after." Deanna looked like it hurt to accuse him. "Him and Pete weren't quiet about what they did once he was gone. They tried to celebrate. I put them both under house arrest for a few days." She pressed her hands to her face. "It was better without him. They'd forgotten. They'd forgotten."

The room was still for a long moment, and when Rick looked like he was about to speak, the room tensed - would he kill them? Would he let them be? "I'm going to have a talk with them both." Rick said, softly, and the tension eased. "They need to know Warren isn't leaving, and if they act out again, I won't hesitate to take this in my own hands." Rick looked to Deanna. "If they hurt Warren again, or even threaten him, their punishment is mine to give, because Warren is my people now. You got your chance to deal with them."

"Understood." Deanna nodded, worried. It was hard to believe Pete wouldn't act out again, or Aiden. But she had to keep them in line, because Rick's words carried an underlying threat - he wasn't as lenient or gentle when he doled out punishment. Daryl huffed, wincing a little as Maggie finished up the stitches, freeing him from his chair. He stood, pausing for a moment, waiting for someone to stop him.

"Unless you got more questions," He said, hovering, blood still dripping to the floor. No response came, so he moved. He didn't need to tell them where he was going. They already knew.