Nora paused, looking down to her hands as the Beast had pulled them back to study them. The pain in her heart doubled as she sifted through the memories behind those scrapes. She trembled, recalling her fear... her turmoil and all the things she had endured with the bravest of faces just so she could come home... just so she could see her strength return once more. Only to be defeated all over again.

His silence made it all the worse for wear at that point. Daryl's own anger had burned so deeply into her veins that she didn't... she couldn't meet his eyes. Tears welled, clouding her vision and beginning to shamelessly trek along her cheeks as she felt her iron-clad defenses beginning to break; to fall away and dissolve before his eyes. She had grown so numb, so determined to make it home that once she had done so... she hadn't properly prepared herself to face what happened.

"I didn't... it was... so dark. So close and... dirty." She muttered, trying to find the way to properly explain it through her oncoming hysteria. "I made it out, t'anks to ye. I broke the planks, jus' like ye told me. Crawled through the dirt. Made it home." She whimpered, hating herself for being so pathetic in a time where she knew HE would be strong. But no matter how she tried to push it all back... the fact that someone cared... that someone was listening... it was enough to break her.

Her face contorted in sadness and terror, her shoulders beginning to shake from the tremors of fresh distress coursing through her. She almost wished he could continue his non-caring, cold and cruel charade... at least then she wouldn't feel as exposed as right now.

"'E put me in a grave." She scoffed sadly, trying to find the humor. It didn't work. She met his eyes. "I dug my way out."

Daryl's brows came closer together as he listened to her ramble on through her tears. They soaked her face as she shamefully shred them and tried her best to explain to him what she had gone through. Not one bit of it made sense to him. It was so hard for him to understand her through her sobs. But it didn't matter what she said. None of it did. The only thing that concerned the Redneck was her pain. It was almost the same feeling he had had for Carol when Sophia had first gone missing. Only this was unique to that. It had a more deeper meaning. It was unbearable seeing her so broken and fragile like this. Out of all of the people in their group he would have never guessed he would have seen such a side to Nora. It cut him more than any knife or sword could.

Then she spoke those few words he DID understand. She had crawled out of her own fucking grave. A look of shock fluttered upon his face as she finally lifted her head to meet his gaze. Jesus christ. What had this woman endured? Daryl pressed his lips together, his teeth clenched so tightly shut that he thought his jaw would snap. He stared hard into her puffy and red eyes for a good while before he silently and slowly reached over to her, sliding an arm around her back and forcing his other to go beneath her knees, where he pulled her up with him as he got to his feet. He held the petite Irish woman as he quietly began to make his way towards the prison doors.

Before he even made it into the door Andrea had opened it, having seen the last few seconds of what was going on before. "What's wrong with Nora?"

"Move outta my way!" Daryl snapped as he strolled past her.

"Lenora, what happened?" Andrea tried speaking with her instead.

"MAKE YA'SELF USEFUL N' GET SOME DAMN HELP, LADY!" Daryl roared furiously, instantly instilling fear in the blonde woman. It was a tone that he had not used in a very long time; a glimmer of the old Daryl. Without uttering so much as another word, Andrea scurried off to get the others.

Finally making it to the infirmary, Daryl placed Nora down, as delicately as possible, upon one of the beds. His crystalline hues barely stealing a glance from her before averting his eyes to begin sifting through the drawers for supplies. A few seconds later Maggie came rushing in with a handful of others behind her. "What happened?" She demanded.

Daryl pointed a finger at Lenora. "Take care'a'er!" He barked out the order, pacing slightly as he spoke. As if he was uncertain of what else to do with himself.

His stare was enough to even boil the blood in her veins. Her cheeks flushed a bright red in response to his clenched jaw (which almost hurt her own teeth just seeing it) and his shocked expression. Would he think less of her for being so weak in such a time? Would he choose to disassociate himself with the likes of her after such a horrifying confession? She half expected him to. But the worry, the way he closed a strong hand over her own and the way pools of sympathy began welling in his own gaze only caused Nora to be floored yet again. She trembled from (what she had convinced herself was) the pain.

And then he did something that further shocked the Irishwoman into submission. One arm bravely snaked beneath her spine, making her grunt and whimper like some wounded pup. The other hoisted her bruised knees and he stood as some angered warrior, ferrying her bridal-style back towards the entrance of the prison. Her confusion was minimal now. If anything, she took this as care and comfort; a momentary lapse in their thick, defensive walls where they actually saw one another as something other than some bittersweet enemy. She accepted her fate and his crude compassion, burying her face into the crook of his neck as she bit into her lip and tried her best to will the pain away.

Andrea's voice brought her from her reverie, but she didn't dare look at the young woman. Instead, she only hid her face further, trying not to let anyone else see such a vulnerable side of her. Once so strong, once so brave and now... now she was nothing but a puddle of pathetic sorrow and weakness. Nothing but... human.

She whimpered again in sheer agony as the Beast had ever so gently laid her down upon the hospital bed. His rummaging hardly phased her. But the moment Maggie had entered, she snapped to attention and sobered up fast, trying to squirm up from her spot. This only remained as further proof that she was in far too much pain to even sit properly. She fell fruitlessly back to the pillows beneath her head as Maggie rushed to her side, clutching her ribs and grunting.

"What's wrong, Nora?" Maggie asked in a panic, intent on not pissing Daryl off any further than required.

"Not'in', I'm fine, don't-" She pleaded all to no avail with tear-streaked cheeks, too weak to stop Maggie from knocking her hands away and lifting her shirt. "I... I t'ink I-"

"Some of your ribs need to be reset." She announced, a hint of disappointment in her tone. "About five... maybe six. Nora... how long have you had these wounds?"

"A while." She grit out as she attempted feebly readjusting herself. "I think me right shoulder's dislocated too." She added, trying not to wince as Maggie poked and prodded.

Daryl paced back and forth just behind Maggie as he watched intently. His eyes had not lost their fire as he stared at the nasty wounds. The longer he stared at the sight of those injuries the more pissed he became. The fury in him was about to overload. He folded his hands into tight fists as he listened to Maggie and Nora go back and forth with their questions and answers. When Maggie mentioned the ribs, Daryl quirked a brow. "Can ya even do that?" The question came out more rude than he intended, but he didn't care.

Maggie sighed heavily as she continued with her examination. "I'm not too sure 'bout that. We ain't got much provisions here for that kinda stuff..." She frowned deeply.

"FIND SOMETHIN'!" Daryl found himself barking out this order.

She quickly whipped around. "I can't really work miracles! I can only do so much!" She snapped, using a vicious tone with the Redneck. One that warned him not to lose his temper with her with something she had no control over.

Daryl instantly clamped his mouth shut, taken back by her outburst before he nibbled at his lip. His eyes moved to land upon the Irish woman as she lay in the bed.

"A dislocated shoulder is an easy fix." She said this and looked to Daryl, as if expecting him to be the man for the job.

He paused at first, giving the Greene a look that showed he was not happy with the thought of inflicting the pale woman with more pain. When she continued to stare hard at him, he regrettably moved over to Nora's side and waited for Maggie to help her sit upright. He placed his hands upon her shoulder and upper arm, his eyes moving to meet hers as he quietly grumbled out an apology, "Sorry, Leprechaun..." And without even waiting for a count down or anything, the Hunter quickly forced her shoulder back in place, slightly cringing as he did so, as if to sympathize with the pain she felt. He took a step back and lowered his head, as if he was a dog that had just been scolded.

He really was a Beast. He paced like a lion in a cage just behind Maggie and though Nora tried her best to keep her mind focused, she couldn't stop her eyes from wandering to him now and then. His fury flustered her, made it tougher to compute simple questions Maggie had been asking. It threw her off her game and she hated it.

The moment she had mentioned a dislocated shoulder, Nora's eyes snapped onto the Beast's gaze like glue. She trembled as he stepped closer and placed his hands upon the aching shoulder, murmuring some form of apology... before he ultimately snapped the limb back into place. A sharp cry of pain stole breath from her lungs and her eyes welled with fresh tears. She bowed her head and flopped back onto the pillows, clutching her injured shoulder.

Maggie lifted Nora's shirt further. "Alright... we're gonna have ta... do this the old fashioned way, I guess."

"They need t'be put back int'place." Nora snapped through clenched teeth, her eyes tightly shut. Maggie nodded and pressed around one rib. "Jus' do it." She muttered bravely. Maggie made a face and nodded, pressing hard. The scream that pierced the air, along with a loud snap and crackle of bone and cartilage flooded the room as Nora took in the pain searing through her ribcage.

Without thinking, a fragile, cut up hand jolted outwards to grab something... anything for comfort... and wound up digging soft, slender fingers into the flesh of the Beast's wrist himself. She clung tightly in a vice grip, unwilling to let him be released as she endured the pain, preparing for the next round.

Daryl's mouth tugged into a slight grimace as he inflicted more pain upon her, even if it was to help her. He didn't like the idea of being the reason to cause agony for the petite Irish Woman. His eyes trailed onto Maggie as she broke the short silence that had fallen amongst them. He squinted for a moment as he took a second to process exactly what she had meant. His head immediately moved to look upon Nora, who was trying her hardest to be the tough woman she was. Though it didn't take much for anyone to know just how fragile she actually in her current condition. Daryl's jaw flexed as she bravely gave Maggie the order to crack her rips in place.

CRACK.

A shrill, hair-raising scream filled the room that sent shivers down even Daryl's spine. He turned his head away for a second, for reasons even he was unsure why, but the touch of Nora's delicate fingers gripping around his wrist caused him to quickly return his gaze onto her in surprise. This is an action he had least expected from her. A sign of comfort. She was seeking comfort and safety from him. Him? His crystalline hues moved to focus upon her eyes, seeing the tears welled in them as she fought desperately to hold them back. He was frozen. He dare not move from position as she clung to his wrist.

CRACK!

Another heart-stopping scream erupted from her and without even thinking, Daryl's free hand moved to rest ontop of hers. It was the only thing he could think of to do to show that he was, in fact, there for her and sympathized. A small and simple gesture to show just how close he had actually grown with this woman.

Once Maggie had finished her job and all the excitement had died down, she demanded that Nora got her rest. She dosed the pale Irish woman with some pain meds that would cause her to get drowsy and allow sleep to find her. Daryl had long ago regained the freedom of moving his arm at will and had made it his number one priority in keeping watch on Nora while she was told to rest. He quickly pulled up a chair from across the room and stationed himself to the side of her bed, where he sat down and watched her silently, a slight hint of genuine concern shimmering upon his features as his eyes scanned over her tired form resting in the bed. After a moment he averted his eyes from her to elsewhere, at anything but her.

Through the pain and flashing memories of her past, Nora had hardly noticed that her Beast had reciprocated - heeded her need for a source of strength and solace. He had closed his hand over her own, squeezing as though he intended to suck her pain directly from her burning veins and replace it with the strength she knew she held so dearly once upon a time.

All to no avail, it seemed. By the time Maggie had finished her work and fed her with various pain medication, Nora was a mess. Her hair clung to her face in damp ringlets and her makeup ran feebly down her cheeks from the countless tears she had shed for her own sorry pain and suffering. Her body trembled with every movement - even trying to brush away a few annoying droplets of sweat from her face was a task in itself. She eventually sank into her cot, beginning to feel her eyes droop low in exhaustion.

The creak of metal on concrete snapped her dizzy gaze to the source while Daryl had pulled up a chair next to her bed. A small gasp sucked into her lungs through parched lips, but she said nothing. Nora had never been trained for social interaction, though her father had certainly tried. The closest she had ever come to having some sort of clique was her mother and whatever socialites she had tried to get her into. Even that type of etiquette didn't apply to this. Feeling deeply that, even if she DID have something to say, she would be far too weak to do so, she merely kept eye contact for as long as she could.

The genuine stare of concern and care that flickered over his features caused her own to soften considerably. In the midst of (what she convinced herself was) her inner trauma and outward pain and exhaustion, a single tear slipped from her eye along her cheek.

But just as she went to blink it away, sleep had finally conquered and she slipped away from him, succumbing to her nightmares.