A/N: This is actually a chapter and a half in length. You'll see why I did that at the end, haha. Thanks for the support guys, keep it coming! I appreciate it.


It was Rick's idea to try and move the mattress and Daryl separately. The last thing they needed was to accidently drop Daryl off of the flimsy thing and end up with a concussion on top of everything else. Rick grabbed Daryl from under his arms and pulled him up as Glenn got his feet and they moved him off the mattress. Glenn released Daryl's feet and worked with Tyreese to move the mattress back into the cell while Rick kept Daryl upright. Tyreese wasn't too sure what to do after that so he stood back a ways and let Rick and Glenn get Daryl situated back onto the bed.

"Thank you, I appreciate it." Hershel nodded in gratitude. "Now I just have to ask for one more thing: I need at least a couple more washcloths. And might need some more water."

"And a thin blanket or sheet would be nice," Carol added. She still wasn't about to leave Daryl's side with him in the condition that he was. If nothing else, she would make taking care of Daryl her primary business until he got to feeling better. Beth was more than capable taking care of Judith and besides, Carol didn't want to risk catching whatever Daryl had or being a carrier and passing it on to the infant. She also figured she'd be the one to get Daryl out of his clothes once the guys all left. She could imagine Daryl wouldn't be too thrilled if he woke up to find that Rick or Glenn had stripped him.

Rick and Tyreese headed back for C Block for what Hershel and Carol wanted while Glenn hesitated for a moment. He looked worried, like he wanted to say something, but decided against it as he followed after the other two.

Carol wrestled Daryl's sweat soaked shirt off of him for the time being and tossed it aside followed by his undershirt. She unfastened his belt and jeans before she worked on pulling them off as well and added them to the pile, leaving him in just his underwear. She could tell his fever was high but she didn't think it would turn into anything like this.

Carol took a step back, ignoring the scar marks that littered Daryl's body, and stared at his chest. She could see the visible rise and fall with every breath he took. "Should we try and give him anything?"

"It's hard to say. I'm beginning to think we'll have to try. He may be too far out of it now to really wake up and we need to get his fever down before it has a chance to become worse," Hershel offered.

Carol folded her arms across her chest and nodded. She didn't want to think about his fever somehow becoming even worse than what it already was. If she could place a guess, it was already somewhere around 104 degrees Fahrenheit. Daryl was facing brain damage and even death if it got any higher.


Glenn hung his head as he shuffled his feet back towards D Block with Rick. He carried a thin blanket and a few more extra washcloths while Rick carried another container full of water. Rick had dismissed Tyreese, told the man they had everything under control for now. But Glenn could see it in Rick's face just as much as he knew it was on his own. It wasn't under control. There just wasn't anything they could really do.

The last time that Glenn had really even spoken to Daryl was… well, it was when Merle was still alive. And Daryl had practically begged him to forgive Merle, that Merle was sorry.

And all Glenn did was shrug him off. Told him he wasn't going to, basically. And now look how everything was.

He felt terrible. He didn't know how to approach Daryl after that. So he felt like he at least owed Daryl this. That he could help with any little thing possible to get him feeling better. He wanted to help.

When they returned to the cellblock and met back up with Carol and Hershel, they handed over their things. Carol placed the blanket at the foot of the bed for the moment before they voiced that they wanted to try and get some medication into Daryl to help lower his fever as well. Maggie had left the ibuprofen in the cell as Carol grabbed the bottle and looked to Rick and Glenn.

"I got it." Glenn stepped forward before Rick could say a word. He managed to get a grip under Daryl's arms again and ended up sliding behind him to keep him up and in a sitting position, holding him there. He could immediately feel the heat coming off of Daryl from his fever.

Carol shook a couple pills out of the bottle before passing it off to Hershel and stepping closer. Her brow was furrowed in determination as she lifted Daryl's head up and got the pills into his mouth. Rick passed her the glass of water that they still had in there as she took it and turned back to Daryl. Everyone was well aware that this was the tricky part.

Glenn kept his right arm around Daryl's chest to keep him upright as he gently placed his left hand under the unconscious man's chin. He met eyes with Carol and she seemed to gather what he aimed to do. Glenn tilted Daryl's head back and Carol slowly poured water into his mouth in hopes of washing the pills down. Once he felt Daryl swallow, he looked back to Carol and nodded. They received a slight groan from Daryl as he scrunched his face.

"Is he waking up?" Glenn asked, unable to see Daryl from straight on.

Carol shook her head. "He's still out."

Glenn slightly nodded with a frown. He tried to push Daryl forward so he could get off the bed and let him lay back down but Rick got Daryl by the shoulders and held his weight so that Glenn could maneuver out. Rick eased Daryl back down and turned to face the others, his hands on his hips.

"What do we do?"

"We can try to cool him down further by using the washcloths but other than that, only time will tell," Hershel replied.


So Rick hadn't quite gotten around to taking watch for a bit like he had planned in hopes to relieve the others of guard duty. He felt bad, like he wasn't doing anything to help. He didn't want to come off like "the Governor" and make it seem like he just strolled around the prison doing nothing. His concern for Daryl had completely consumed him though.

He stepped outside for a breath of fresh air and squinted out into the field. They were still looking to be in fairly good shape. There were no breaches in the fence and all of the walkers that were once on the inside had already been taken care of.

Rick almost collided into Carl as his son come whipping around the corner. He heard Carl mutter something under his breath and made to keep walking, his eyes fixed on the ground with that old Sheriff's hat still resting atop his head. He quickly placed a hand on his son's shoulder to stop him.

"Is everything alright?" Rick stared down at him as Carl still refused to meet his eyes. He didn't bother asking him what he was doing outside in the first place. He understood Carl needed his own space as well but the thought of him alone outside was a little unsettling, fear that the Governor could swoop in at any moment. But he had to put that fear to rest for the time being.

"No," Carl ground out. "We shouldn't be doing all of this."

"I'm sorry?" Rick cocked his head and furrowed his brow.

"We shouldn't have to be on guard all the time and waiting for the Governor to attack. We should be the ones going out there after him. You heard what Karen said—he killed his army. He doesn't have shit." Carl looked up at Rick, his voice growing cold, "You should have killed him back when you had a chance. Put a bullet in his head."

Rick had already received a similar speech from Carl but he was still taken aback. "I did what I thought best—"

"Well, you thought wrong." Carl cut him off. "If you would have gone through with it we'd still have Axel. Merle and Andrea would be alive. And maybe Daryl wouldn't be in the shape he's in either. Someone should have kept a closer eye on him after losing Merle like that."

"Daryl's sick and we're doing everything we can." Rick tried to remain levelheaded about this but Carl's words made his blood run cold. "I'm doing the best I can with what was handed to me. If you want to point fingers then maybe you should start helping in calling out the shots. If you saw the shape Daryl was in before he got this bad, you could have done something yourself."


Glenn stayed with Daryl so that Hershel and Carol could take a break. They took some precautionary measures and decided to handcuff Daryl's right wrist to the bed much like they had done for Hershel when they weren't sure he was going to make it. Glenn tried to joke about it and explained to them that maybe it would keep Daryl in bed so he could rest. But sitting there beside him and taking it all in only deepened his depression about the whole thing.

"I'm sorry… about Merle. And the handcuffs. Just get through this, Daryl. We need you. I need you." Glenn lowered his head and sighed. He managed a weak smile, "Who's gonna be my best man when me and Maggie get married otherwise?"

His smile faded when he looked back up at Daryl. He still hadn't moved and he really hadn't been awake since sometime in the middle of the night according to Maggie. Carol had placed a fresh washcloth on his forehead before leaving after having sponged him down a bit seeing as it would just feel awkward for him to do it for Daryl or any of the other guys. But hell, he would if he had to. No questions asked. Then again he supposed it was a bit awkward to be sitting there facing Daryl's unconscious form with him stripped down to just his underwear, talking to him.

Oh well…

Glenn got back on his feet just as he heard someone's footsteps walking deeper into the cellblock and approaching Daryl's cell. He disregarded whoever it was while he grabbed another washcloth, dipped it in the water enough to saturate it, and slid it behind Daryl's neck after wringing it out a bit. He remembered his mom always doing that for him when he was sick and it always made him feel better.

When Glenn turned around he saw it was Carl that had come into the cellblock, leaning against the bars of the doorway. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest and his eyes locked on Daryl.

"Everything okay?" Glenn hadn't pictured Carl being the one to show up. Not that Carl didn't care about Daryl, he just figured Carl would hang back. He'd been acting a little different though lately.

Carl snapped his attention from Daryl to Glenn. "Yeah… Just thought I would come see how he's doing. Haven't seen him around the prison in a while. It feels weird."

"It definitely feels weird," Glenn agreed.

"You need a break or anything? Sounds like you guys have been in here watching him most of the time," Carl offered.

"Actually, yeah. If you don't mind."


Carl waited until he heard Glenn leave. He walked to the next cell over, glancing over at the door on the way. He grabbed the pillow from off the bed and headed back into Daryl's cell before stopping by his side.

Daryl had gotten progressively worse over the short period of time. He'd apparently been unconscious more often than not by Carl's understanding. And they had handcuffed him, meaning they were already expecting the worst.

If everyone wasn't so worried about Daryl they'd be able to focus more on the real threat at hand: the Governor. They'd be able to straighten things out.

Daryl was pretty much dead already.

His dad didn't know what he was doing. He'd had the perfect opportunity more than once to kill the Governor at point blank range. But did he do it? Of course not. He allowed the Governor to live and ended up killing Axel, Merle, and Andrea. Even Oscar. The Governor had threatened Glenn and Maggie. Yet everyone seemed to be okay with everything that was going on.

And Daryl. He only seemed to be getting worse.

With his hand being cuffed, it meant the others were already thinking it was a possibility that he could die in his sleep and turn. Carl could put Daryl out of his misery and the others would start getting their act together and do something.

With Daryl's hand being cuffed, Carl could help move that process along. He could smother him with the pillow and no one would even suspect a thing. They would think his fever was what ultimately killed him. And if Daryl was to wake up, he couldn't really fight back with only one hand. He was too weak.

It was perfect...