GREETINGS PEOPLE! SO I FINALLY GOT THIS UPLOADED! DONT BLAME ME, WHEN I WENT TO PUT THIS STORY UP, THE PAGE WOULD STOP LOADING MID-WAY THROUGH :/ BUT ITS HERE NOW! SO AS USUAL, PLEASE LEAVE YOUR FEEDBACK JUST SO I KNOW IF WHAT I AM WRITING IS EVEN GOOD :)

ENJOY!

FLASHBACK

"Ill ask you one more time Daryl. How many ways are there to get into that prison?" The Governor stood over a bloodied Daryl who was bound to a chair. Daryl's eyes, for as much blood as he had on his face from various wounds, flared in anger at the man who stood towering over him. He would not give the man the satisfaction of seeing his pain.

"Daryl, sigh, do you really think I enjoy hurting you? Enjoy cutting into your skin?" The Governor leaned down so he was eye level with Daryl. "I'll make you a deal. Contrary to what you may have heard, I am not an unreasonable man. If you give me what I want, Michonne, and the prison, Ill let you take your people, no harm done. Now doesn't that sound like I am trying to work with you?"

For all he could, Daryl tried not to bark out a laugh at The Governors proposal. He knew as sure as he knew his name, as sure as he knew this world was full of shit people now, that his group had killed some of The Governors men, and that crime would not be forgotten so easily. He also knew his group would not leave their "home" without some sort of fight.

"Fine."

The Governor spun around on his heel where he had walked away to the far wall to let his offer sink in. Once again, he bowed down to Daryl's level. "You're doing a good thing Daryl. I know it may seem like a betrayal, but you'll go back and get your people, and be on your way. Now, back entrances that aren't patrolled by anyone, where are they?"

Daryl couched, some blood running from his mouth. With once last hesitation, he leaned closer, "At the west tower. Cough turn left." He let his chin fall down to his chest before he sighed and continued on. "You'll be at a brick wall. From there, ya can go straight ta hell." Daryl spit some blood that had been in his mouth straight into The Governors face.

The room grew silent and still as The Governor straightened himself in front of Daryl.

"Start again." The Governor started to the door, not turning back as the room exploded in a stream of curses, and yells. He would break that man if it was the last thing he did.

END FLASHBACK

"His breathing is better under control, but without an x-ray we cant know the extent of the damage to his lungs. I can almost certainly tell you he has a least 3 broken ribs, a broken wrist, multiple cuts and extensive bruising all over his body. It's a wonder that he is still with us. I wouldn't be surprised if he was also suffering from a severe concussion due to his facial wounds." The old man riddled off Daryl's list of injuries with eyes never leaving Daryl's still form. It was clear the amount of suffering the hunter had gone through, and was still going through plagued him.

"'ow long till he wakes up?" Merle asked at the foot of the jail cell bunk bed. Throughout Hershel poking and prodding his brother this way and that, Merle had stayed firm and solid to that spot, out of the way, but close enough to Daryl should he need to be there. He gave the old man credit, he got Daryl's breathing under control in a hurry, and made quick work of trying to mend other things.

"Hard to say. How long has he been under these conditions?" The vet got up from his chair next to the bed, and made to grab his crutches that were propped against the edge of the bed in front of Merle.

"Wasn' always with 'im." Merle looked down. For an instant he felt a pang of guilt, but quickly told himself that even if they had been in the same room, The Governor was done with him, he wouldn't listen to a word he had to say. No amount of promise at deviatory acts would keep his hands off Daryl. He also knew that his baby brother had a mouth on him when you got him going, and he could attest that at least half those injuries were probably due to that.

"Well in any case, his body needs time. He cant have any more stress put on any of these wounds." With that, Hershel started out of the cell, leaving Merle to stare at the unconscious man. That was when Merle first took notice of the pixie haired woman who was still by Daryl's side.

"He ain' gonna 'preciate all that fussin when he wakes up." She never looked up from where she dabbed at a few shallow cuts, trying to get them clean and away from possible infection.

"We'll get to that fight when he wakes up. Besides, he'll know its for his own good." Her response wasn't loud, but soft and cold to him as to be expected. He knew this attitude was to be expected from everyone in the prison group. Looking back at his brother's featureless face, he sighed. As long as no one tried to get brave with him, he would stay out of site and mind.

Merle watched Carol, eyes never leaving what she was doing in case his brother needed him for some reason.

"You can go find another cell. Your brother is gonna need his rest." Carol mused, eyes never leaving her work. She felt uneasy around the burly redneck, just watching her while she tried to clean Daryl's wounds.

"'m takin the top bunk. No intentions of leaving 'im anytime soon." This was all Merle said as he continued to watch her. He didn't understand everyone trying to get him to leave his baby brother. He did that one to many times, and it was always Daryl who suffered, and he'd be damned if he left him alone again when he was so hurt.

"Ill check on him in a while." Carol stood suddenly, nerves on edge from his eyes. She just needed to get some air away from the man who she would now have no chance of avoiding if he was going to be sleeping in Daryl's cell.

"We'll be 'ere sweets." Merle climbed up on the top bunk as careful as possible so as to not disturb his brother.

Carol huffed at the entrance of the cell causing Merle to chuckle to himself. If they continued to make it this easy, staying here might not be so bad, he thought as he let the prison sounds, and Daryl's breathing lull him to sleep.