A/N: I only own Olive. Sadly, I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters, as unfortunate as that is for me. Anyway, I combined two episodes - both Isolation and Indifference as stated in the chapter title - but I figured I should specify. Enjoy!

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Daryl's dreams of Olive were nightly. Each one was extremely graphic, but were usually about one of two subjects: either they were making hot, passionate love, or she was being brutally, savagely torn to shreds by walkers and consumed. On this night, his nerves were so shot, his anxiety rose to such strong heights that he imagined a combination of both.

They were merely sharing thoughts on procreation and whether or not they wanted to have a family together when a walker entered the room. He suddenly became mute so he couldn't warn her verbally and where body language was concerned, it felt like he had no control of his limbs but was screaming inside for her to watch out, that it was coming right for her. He had to watch in silent horror as the walker used his teeth to rip her jugular from her throat amid nightmare-inducing screams, bellows of pain, shock, and realization.

A second walker shuffled into the cell, this one of Rick's form. His rotting corpse appeared pissed off as he took a bite out of Olive's back, just above her shoulder-blades and she cried out. He was helpless to stop her, but his subconscious noted that it could not idly sit by and watch her be eaten, so it awoke the sleeping Dixon with a start and a full-body jolt.

"Olive!" he groaned, sitting immediately upright and unsheathing his knife from its case. His breath was hot and heavy, his skin caked with a cold sweat that felt chilly the instant a soft breeze swept across him. Glancing over at the glass, he noticed her beginning to stir - she was safe. She was alive. And she was not being eaten by Rick the Walker. "Hey...Olive. You okay?"

She sniffled heavily, now breathing entirely through her mouth from the stuffiness and congestion inside of her head. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said, her eyelids drooping slightly. "I had one shitty night's sleep."

"I know." He frowned, scooting back towards the glass as he watched her curl up inside her blanket. "I heard you moanin' all night. Sounded awful."

She nodded, wiping her dripping nose with the back of her hand. "Did you sleep okay?" Olive turned her head, peering out at him through the glass. She could tell by the look on his face that he definitely hadn't, but she wanted him to verbalize it regardless.

"Nightmares."

"About what?"

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip before his gaze turned back to meet hers. "You." He paused, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "You were bein' eaten and I couldn't save ya. I kept tryin' and failin'. Couldn't move for the life o' me."

"It's just a dream. You know nothin's eating me."

"Nothin' but this virus."

Olive frowned, reaching out a hand to graze her fingertips across the coldness of the barrier. He returned the gesture, his own fingers matching the patterns of hers. "It's just a flu. I'll be fine."

"Ya keep sayin' that but until yer well and back out here with me, I dunno what I can believe anymore. Carol's bein' one helluva creepy bitch, Rick expects so much..." She watched him as best as she could through weary eyes, knowing that he needed to rant. "I dunno how I handled all this before I metcha."

"Well, you did. You'll have to again 'til I'm better."

He was about to say something else when Michonne limped into the end of the hallway.

"Daryl?" she said aloud, and he turned to look at her. "She alright?" She came towards them some more, eyeing the blanket and noting his fingers against the window.

Daryl shrugged. "Dunno. She's real sick though."

Michonne frowned, nodding slightly. "Glenn and Sasha are infected with the virus. That little girl Lizzie, too. Hershel says there's a veterinary college nearby. We're takin' a group to scout it out. I could use your skills. We're gathering medicines. Hershel says he knows how to treat this."

Daryl thought for a moment, desperately wanting to stay behind and spend all the time he could with Olive, but he heard her cough and turned his head in her direction, noticing her looking directly at him.

"You have to go, Daryl," she said, and he could hear the build-up of the nastiness she was she was feeling inside. "You have to help them get medicines to bring back here."

"What if I don't make it back? What'll ya do then?"

She shrugged as much as she possibly could. "Die, I guess." When he frowned, she put a hand to the glass. "I don't want to be here without you."

Daryl chewed on his lip, nodding his head, a gesture that was more for himself than for anyone else. "I'll go and I'll come back. Bring ya medicine, getcha better so you can come back out here with me." He knew how selfish that sounded as the medicines they retrieved could be used for the others who had concocted the ailment, but he didn't care. The only thing he had left to care about was behind the glass, sickly and wrapped in a blanket that couldn't keep her fever chills at bay. "I love you."

Olive smiled, her temple pressed against the cool, clear substance preventing her from touching her man. "I love you."

He watched her for a few more seconds before grabbing his crossbow and rising to his feet, moving quickly to meet Michonne down the hallway. "Let's go. If I stay here any longer, I won't wanna leave her."

"I doubt you would either way," Michonne commented, leading him back towards C-Block as the faint echo of Olive's coughing reverberated off of the walls.

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When Olive's weary eyelids finally decided that they would rise and attempt to keep her awake, she knew she had been out for a while. The sound of Sasha's cough echoed in her ears like a violent stab to her inner workings. For some reason, any kind of sound not only set her teeth on edge, but nearly gave her a kind of vertigo feeling.

"Sasha?" she managed before she had realized how hoarse her voice had become.

"Brought you some water," the other woman said. "Hershel says that it'll help you keep hydrated while we wait for the others to get back with the meds."

"They're not back yet?" As Sasha shook her head, Olive's head spun. Why weren't they back yet? Her heart, while already racing, now ached in worry for her love. He was tough at the best of times, but with her life in danger, he would be an even larger threat and he was not something she could afford to lose.

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Daryl was an inch away from pounding this guy into the ground. After all they had just gone through with the oncoming herd, the rush of finding exactly what Hershel needed, and the echoing phrase from the radio lingering in his head – Sanctuary. Those who arrive, survive. – he was an emotional wreck longing for nothing but the physical touch of the one thing he couldn't have just yet. Here this guy was – new guy Bob – threatening the safety of their illness-sodden family by putting his need for the bottle first, and because of that, Daryl had every right to be pissed off.

The youngest Dixon only had one thing on his mind and that thing was waiting inside an interrogation room for him to come back to her safely.

He marched over to Bob, his face a mere inch from the other man's. His eyes, if one could have seen them, were hooded and darkened by a lust to fulfill his task, his duty to Olive. "Take one sip before those meds get in Olive and the rest of our people," he said lowly, voice challenging and teeth gritted, "I will beat your ass into the ground." He said nothing else, his snarling lip keeping him from either bursting into tears or lashing out irrationally.

The ride back to the prison was tantalizing. Daryl took shotgun, enabling his old habit of biting his thumbnail – a nervous tick he had always possessed. Michonne mumbled something to him, something about the fact that she was going to stop looking for the Governor. He nodded to let her know that he'd heard her, but his mind was elsewhere - back at the prison, to be exact. Michonne sensed this and decided to let him and his thoughts be alone.