Disclaimer: I don't own 'The Walking Dead'.

Stockholm

Ch.3

Hearing the clank of metal woke him from his deep slumber. Daryl groaned under his breath twisting his neck to create a loud pop that echoed around the small cell. He may have slept deeply but there was a rather painful kink in his neck now from the uncomfortable bed. He reached up to rub his neck and the tender muscles there before turning around to see food once more on the floor by the door along with a glass but this time no 'Carol' in sight. Sitting up created yet another pop, damn maybe he should have slept on the damn floor.

Probably wouldn't be in nearly this much pain.

Standing up proved to be a bit of a problem for Daryl though, he braced himself against the wall to help stretch his back out. Damn mattress was a piece of shit! He cursed the mattress in his mind as he stretched his arms over his head then stretched his legs. Once he was sure he wouldn't collapse Daryl turned his attention to the bowl of food on the floor.

Grabbing it off the ground he took a whiff but there was barely a scent to the food. It looked bland and mushy though and after staring at it for five minutes Daryl came to the conclusion that it was oatmeal. He thought about tossing it against the wall like the last meal (which now that he was taking notice that bowl was gone) but his stomach protested any type of destruction for the food unless it was done by his stomach.

Daryl sank down to the terrible mattress and contemplated if the food was poisoned or not. Carol seemed rather adamant that they wouldn't do that and even Rick was trying to be Mr. Nice Guy, they had at least one kid here possibly more so killing someone via poisoned food would be a tad excessive. Then again thinking of his piece of shit father he couldn't be too careful. So instead of tossing the food he set it down opting to wait it out first.

He hadn't survived this long being stupid. He could go another day or more without food, water though was a different thing altogether. Hell he had to take a piss a mile long as well.

Looking around the small cell he could see that this wasn't like bigger state penitentiaries where the toilets were built in the cell. He would have to wait till someone came by to let him take a piss.

"Fuck this place." Daryl grumbled.

During the time he waited for someone to come by he got the second mattress off the top bunk to double the bottom, hopefully that solved his back and neck issues. If he was gunna be here for a while then he mind as well make it as comfortable as he could. Afterwards he slid down the wall to lean back against it with his legs bowlegged and arms sitting on top of his knees. Since there wasn't much he could do Daryl thought about the past, reminiscing sort of, though most of his memories weren't exactly looked upon fondly.

He wondered how his life had brought him to this point. Was the hard living and horrible upbringing all meant for him to live in this new world where the dead didn't stay dead and attacked the living? Daryl never believed in fate or anything supernatural like that but if anything else his horrible childhood did help him survive this horrible adulthood.

What would he be doing right now if he wasn't trapped in this cell?

Probably chasing after Merle to keep the bastard from getting into trouble, like always. Daryl figured a long time ago that he just wasn't allowed to have his own life, wasn't allowed to be his own person either. Always keeping his eyes on Merle and doing what he wanted to do, going where he wanted to go, and sleeping around with who he approved of. Because of how controlling his brother actually was of his person, Daryl didn't interact with other people. He kept to himself and his brother; he barely even slept around like his brother had. Hell, he could count on one hand how many women he had fucked over the course of his life.

Though, of course, Daryl would brag and say otherwise to anyone he happened to be drinking with (his brother, included).

Fuck, he missed that fucking asshole. Now that his brother was gone for good Daryl had no idea what to do with himself. Maybe if he had thought it through better than his ass wouldn't be sitting on this dirty, dank floor in this small cell locked away because people thought he looked dangerous.

Shit, he was fucking dangerous and they best not forget it neither!

Daryl didn't know how much time passed before someone finally showed up, maybe an hour or two, most likely thirty minutes. He heard the creaking of a door opening then Rick appeared in his sight with another woman, this one younger than Carol had been. She had short brown hair with green eyes that stared down at him in narrowed slits. Obviously she didn't trust him. Then finally another person came up, it was an older man with white hair and a white beard. His eyes though stared at him kindly without any judgment within them. He smiled at Daryl and honestly Daryl just stared back at them.

"Daryl, ya didn't eat yer breakfast." Rick scolded him lightly, looking disappointed just like last night. Daryl didn't care though, let him be disappointed won't no skin off his nose.

"Well at least he didn't throw it against the wall." The woman commented with a wrinkled nose, he hadn't even noticed it smelled 'til she mentioned it. He ignored it though, still didn't care nor did it bother him.

"I'm Hershel Greene, Mr. Dixon and this is my daughter, Maggie. We're here to check ya over." The older man, Hershel stated kindly letting Rick unlock the cell door to let him in. It was then that Daryl noticed Hershel using crutches to get in, his eyes zeroed in on one pant leg rolled up revealing that the old man was missing half of his calf to his foot. Vaguely he wondered what had happened.

"Be good, Daryl. Hershel, here is gunna check ya over fer injuries." This time Daryl decided to speak.

"I ain't injured; I don't need no checkin' over. I ain't need yer damn pity, so fuck off, all of ya!" Maggie flinched at the venom in his voice but Hershel didn't, he just ignored Daryl's words and proceeded into the cell with a bag in one hand.

"Maggie, if ya will." Hershel waved her over letting her take his crutches to place against the wall as he sat down on the double mattress bed. His aging eyes looked around the cell for a brief moment then stared down at Daryl. "This would go much faster Mr. Dixon if ya come sit beside me." He patted the spot next to him with a smile.

Daryl looked between him and Maggie then Rick who stayed outside of the cell with the door hanging open but his hand resting lightly on his gun by his hip. He didn't have many options, he had no way of getting out, at least not without getting shot and though she looked worried, Daryl had a feeling Maggie was a force to be reckon with. So without much else he could do, Daryl got up using the wall to support his weight then walked over to sit beside Hershel on the bed though there was a good chuck of space between them.

"Now I'm gonna check yer heart rate first." The old man dug through his bag pulling out a weird looking contraption that Daryl hadn't seen since he had gotten the flu when he was six years old. A stethoscope is what they were called it, if Daryl remembered correctly. He kept his eyes on Hershel, watching his every move as he placed the ear pieces in his ears then took the round piece at the end up to his chest. "Breathe in deep and hold yer breath please."

Daryl felt inclined to do the exact opposite but the way Hershel acted and responded to him made the redneck feel obligated to follow his orders. Still eyeing him Daryl took a deep breath and held it for a moment then released it slowly through his mouth. The old man asked him to do the breathing once more then he was pulling the round piece away and putting the stethoscope into his bag.

"Yer heart rate seems fine, a little on the fast side though." Hershel smiled lightly at Daryl then continued on, "Now Mr. Dixon, if ya would please remove your shirt so I can check ya over." Instantly Daryl was on his feet pulling away from Hershel and keeping his distance from Maggie too.

"Fuck no! I consider this all done wit'! No more, git the fuck out!" Daryl directed a glare to Rick when he heard him sigh deeply in exasperation.

"We're tryin' to help you." Maggie stated tightly, her arms coming across her chest as she glared at him. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling showing her how much he believed her statement.

"I ain't need yer damn help, I'm fine!" Maggie opened her mouth to argue on but Hershel spoke up instead. "Mr. Dixon, yer suffering from dehydration, possibly starvation and yer leanin' towards the right to take the weight off yer left side tellin' me that you have an injury. At least let me check it over."

Daryl frowned deeply, how had he not known he was subconsciously leaning off his injured side? Fuck. He stared hard into the older man's eyes trying to locate some type of deception that he really wasn't as nice and kind as he portrayed but Daryl couldn't find anything but what was there. Hershel Greene was exactly who and how he appeared, a nice old man who only wanted to help those in need. He didn't particularly like being considered 'in need' but Daryl's side was hurting something awful…

"I ain't takin' my shirt off." Daryl finally said heatedly waiting to hear any protests, when none came he sighed deeply then lifted the edge of his button up tank and vest revealing tanned and scarred skin including the injury on his left side. Maggie took a sharp intake of breath upon seeing the swollen and red skin there; he glanced down at the wound hiding the wince at seeing how bad it had gotten.

"We're you shot Mr. Dixon?" Hershel finally asked waving him to step closer. Daryl shook his head hissing when a probing finger touched the inflamed skin.

"Nah fell down a ravine probably a week back and my bolt pierced my side. Had ta pull it out." He gritted his teeth as Hershel inspected the wound poking at the small puckering hole where the bolt had once been lodged in.

"It looks infected to me, you'll have to take some antibiotics and eat the food we provide you," Hershel gave him an appointed look, "but ya should recover just fine. Just let me clean the wound up and then we'll leave ya be."

Daryl spent the next ten minutes holding back groans and grunts as Hershel and Maggie cleaned out the wound from both the front of his abdomen and the back, he looked over to Rick to see him frowning and grimacing at the sight. The wound had also bled a little along with foul smelling, yellow pus that left everyone in the cell gagging at the sight and smell. By the end of the whole ordeal Daryl just wanted to sleep away the ache inside. Hershel gave him some pills to swallow as Maggie handed him the forgotten glass by his cold, uneaten food.

He stared down hard at the three pills in his hand, thought about dropping them to the floor and crushing them with his feet, hell even thought about tossing them at Rick just to spite them all but when he looked back at Hershel with this earnest, calm look on his face. It was like he knew Daryl was going to pitch a fit and not take them, he was expecting it. Honestly he wanted to do just as he thought but the old man had done nothing but to help him and to throw it back in his face just didn't sit right with him, asshole or not Daryl wasn't ungrateful.

So as much as he didn't want to, he swallowed the pills chasing them with the glass that was full of fresh water, though it was lukewarm at this point. He ended up gulping it down in one go, not realizing just how thirsty he really was.

"Is there anything we can do for you, Mr. Dixon?" Hershel asked once he was done, rising to his one foot just as Maggie handed him his crutches. Daryl watched the exchange silently leaning back against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest.

"More water." He finally said to which Rick nodded mumbling something about grabbing a bottle or two for him. Just as the trio were leaving though another thought came to him. "Oh and I gotta take a piss like a damn race horse."…

Beth bounced Judith on her lap as she waited for her sister and Daddy to show back up from looking in on the mountain man, Daryl Dixon. She wondered if they would get a verbal lashing like Carol had told them when she came back last night from giving him dinner. She was a bit disappointed that he flung the food against the wall; she worked hard on preparing it for him too. He seemed rather ungrateful in her opinion but then she couldn't exactly blame him since they did lock him up against his will. Carol also mentioned he wasn't very happy about his situation. Beth offered to bring his food instead but the older woman just shook her head, stating that she wasn't going to be scared away by words.

Hearing the strength in Carol's voice brought a smile to her lips. She had really come a long way from the soft-spoken, easily spooked woman Beth had met a year and a half back on the farm. She admired Carol for the strength she found in herself, especially after finding little Sophia bit and as a walker inside their barn. Beth shuddered at the thought…

"How did everything go?" Beth jumped looking up from Judith's soft head to see Maggie and Rick coming in with her Daddy hobbling in after them. Sasha was the one to ask, she was sitting opposite herself on the bench reading a very old magazine.

"He'll live, has a bad infection on his left side from being pierced by an arrow but otherwise should recover." Hershel responded back coming over to sit beside Beth. He smiled lightly at her and patted Judith on the head.

"Did he give you any trouble?" Carol popped up from the cell block into the common area looking between all three expectantly. Beth was curious herself, they seemed to get done much faster than she had anticipated. She honestly thought Daryl had told them to 'F' off as well.

"He was crude and didn't want any help but Hershel here, he jus' didn't take 'no' fer an answer." Rick said this time, looking at her Daddy with an approving smile. The blonde snuggled up against her father's arm, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"Mr. Dixon is a hard man, but not unreasonable. He don't trust us and we haven't given him reason to either, hopefully now he'll be less of a threat and more inclined to settle down. Maybe even become a part of the group." Rick nodded his agreement to Hershel's words. Looking at her sister though Beth could see Maggie wasn't as agreeing but she didn't seem as nervous as she had been upon leaving earlier that day with their father.

Beth had wanted to go with instead, she had helped her father more with medical things back home than Maggie had but because she was young they didn't want her near him. Plus there was Judith who needed to be looked after and not to be obnoxious or anything but the baby did prefer her over a few others. Hearing about Daryl's injury though gave her sympathy pains as her left side ached a little. She wondered how that happened.

The rest of the day for Beth consisted of looking after Judith (nothing out of the ordinary there) and cooking dinner for everybody when it was nearing dark out. Sometimes Beth felt put off by the fact that she wasn't trusted to help out with patrols and runs, but when she thought about everything that consisted of doing those things, particularly runs she guessed it was for the best. She was a decent shot, not the best or even as good as Carl but decent. She use to help on the fence but killing walkers still didn't sit right with her; it bugged her to see their faces, to be reminded that once upon a time they were human.

Could still be human…

Though her thoughts of them just being sick so long ago on the farm had ceased, Beth still felt like there might be a chance of saving them. There had to be some type of cure in the works, something that could reverse the changes, give these poor forsaken souls their lives back. It was wishful thinking at best and it was hope that kept the dream alive in her but she would never tell a soul here about it. Her Daddy might understand best of what she was talking about and feeling but the rest like her sister or even Rick would probably question her sanity. Hell, sometimes she questioned her sanity.

Still she hoped and prayed that it was true, cause what was the point if ya didn't wish for the best out of a bad situation?

Just as she and Carol were finishing up making dinner for everyone was when Judith started getting fussy. Beth bounced her, sung to her, and cuddled her but nothing seemed to settle her down. She refused both her bottle and her pacifier. The blonde was starting to grow frustrated; it was only sometimes that Judith would become a hand full for her. Today seemed to be that day.

"Maybe she needs a nap?" Beth asked Carol, looking to the older woman for guidance. She quickly checked the soup they were cooking then walked over to take Judith from her arms. The baby just kept whimpering and struggling in her arms as well, but Carol with her infinite patience and wisdom rocked the baby girl around.

"Sometimes babies are just fussy for no reason at all. It's like a cry for attention." Carol stated, winking over at Beth as she walked around with Judith. She walked back over to the food, stirring it some more then taste testing it before declaring it done. As Beth poured the soup into bowls and placing them on the table she turned the Carl fiddling around with Daryl Dixon's crossbow. She eyed the dangerous looking weapon over before calling out to the boy.

"Carl, can you get everyone for dinner?" He nodded his head, eyeing over the food longingly before going out the door. Just as she poured the last bit into the final bowl, Daryl's bowl, Beth glanced back over to see Carol handling Judith. Her heart picked up a bit as she thought about what she would be offering. "Would ya like me to deliver Mr. Dixon his food, Carol?"

The older woman stopped dancing around to look over at her thoughtfully. She looked extremely iffy but not altogether saying out right 'no' to her either. Beth waited though just smiling lightly and acting nonchalant, like she didn't really care either way. Really though she wanted to meet the man face to face and she didn't really know why though. She figured it was because he had been out in the world, seeing things that she, herself, hadn't seen or done. Worldly is the word. Plus if he was possibly going to be a part of the group at some point it wouldn't be such a bad thing to visit and get to know him right?

"I guess…" Carol mumbled out, glancing back down to Judith for a second before nodding her head. "Don't be too long and don't let anything he says upset you."

Beth smiled with a nod, her heart beating a mile a minute inside her chest. Grabbing a spoon she took off out of the common room making sure to avoid her sister or father, in case they object (which, of course, they would). The closer she got to the other cell block the more nervous she felt. Her stomach lurched as she walked through the darken corridors of the tombs, she hated going through here. Sometimes she expected a walker to pop out of every corner.

Once she rounded a corner she could see the door leading to that common room and then to Daryl Dixon's cell block, the only thing standing in her way…

Glenn…

A/N: So this chapter came out longer than the last, and really the chapter sizes will vary depending on what I have in mind. Hopefully Daryl was being Daryl from season 1 and 2, using his tough exterior to hide the fact that he isn't a complete asshole. Anywho just to let ya guys know, this story is being written for someone on the site (already told ya guys this I know) and one of the things she wanted was for Beth to still believe that walkers can be cured, that their just sick.

Now, of course, this has been done in season 2. By the end they all knew walkers weren't just sick people, they are actually dead. So for Beth in this story to believe that still seemed extremely unrealistic, so I took some creative license here and instead made her believe there is hope that they can be cured. She knows their dangerous but can't bring herself to kill any since she does hope that they will be a cure that can change them back to what they use to be.

That to me sounds much more realistic, hope it does to y'all too. Also my updates may be a bit slower because I know have a full fledge, very lovely beta who will be checking over my grammar and such before I post everything. Sometimes two heads are better than one, especially in my case, lol.

So I would like to give a shout out and dedicate this chapter to KittyStrinx! Thank you so much for helping me out! You totally and utterly rock!

P.S- This chapter has not been beta read because I have yet to get the chapter back and I just can't wait any longer to post this.

Check ya later…

ALCzysz17