A/N: Been strugglin' with this story lately. Uhg! Hope this update doesn't suck too much.

Disclaimer: I own nothing TWD.

There was nothing in the world that could have prepared him for what he'd seen. When Hershel had come in, he'd knew he'd need to leave. But neither Clara or Hershel seemed to think anything of him being in there. He'd hung up the sheet to afford Clara some privacy. Then she'd told him to stay. Part of him was grateful she'd asked him to stay, other part of him was scared of what he might see. Her eyes gave the damage away, but to see it with his own eyes...he felt as if he were going to be sick.

All over her was covered in scars and cuts. Bite marks. She'd stood proud, letting their eyes take in the evidence of her time spent away. Since the first time he'd seen her, Daryl knew the girl was of tough stock. But shit, he'd had no clue. When Clara's eyes had met his, he'd lost it. That asshole Thomas was lucky she'd killed him, if not he'd hunt him down and would have been a lot more creative. But even knowing the guy was dead already didn't do much to stifle his want to hurt somebody.

Daryl shook the thoughts of the scars from his mind. Clara could sense his moods like he could hers. She was every bit his equivalent still. Maybe even stronger. The blonde had bared herself to them. He never dared to let folks see his back. That was his cross to bare.

But he had something to do. Daryl began unstacking the boxes and crates from the corner of his room. He pilfered through and found a pair of her sleeping pants and a tee shirt. He shook the dust out of them and tossed them over his shoulder. Her clothes seemed so small to him. She had always been short and small, but she'd been healthy and fit. She'd had curves. Now, Clara was at least 10-15 pounds lighter. More lean. Daryl still thought she was gorgeous, but she looked a little older.

The hunter walked out of his cell and hurried to the showers. He came to a stop right outside the door. He heard silence from behind it. Worry made Daryl stretch his hand out towards the door knob, until he heard it. A hushed voice. He cocked his head to listen. It was Beth.

"Hang on, lean your head back." The sound of water hitting the cement floor echoed.

"Thank you for helping me."

"No worries. You're family. This is what sisters do, we help each other out." Beth's voice cracked and Daryl dropped his hand. He'd had no idea she'd need help showering.

"Don't cry, Bethy. I'm okay. Jus' the body that's hurt. It'll heal." Clara paused. "I was so worried I'd get back home and something bad would have happened."

Daryl kept Clara's clothes over his shoulders, but he sat down in the hallway. He leaned his back against the wall and listened to the conversation the girls were having. Sure it was an asshole thing to do, but Daryl just enjoyed hearing Clara's voice again.

"Well, it's a miracle the walls are still standin' honestly." Beth said softly.

"What do you mean?" Clara asked her, hissing before Beth offered up an apology.

"Sorry, didn't see that cut. Uh, well...I'd found your note." All noises ceased and Daryl felt his chest tighten. Maybe he should knock and interrupt this conversation, but a part of him felt she needed to know. After all, she'd fought her way back to him. Clara needed to know how bad it had torn him down when she'd left. She needed to know how much he cared about her, he wasn't sure he could verbalize it the way she deserved.

"I of course was a mess, Dad too. But Daryl, he snapped." His eyes closed, remembering how he'd reacted. "Man was possessed with grief. It took Rick restraining him to get him to calm down. I had stood outside listening to him. He cried." Beth paused again and the sound of water again. "I have been around Daryl for a while now, I've never seen the man cry. He just kinda boxes it up I reckon...it reminded me of a wounded animal. Broke everyone's heart."

Again, more silence fell.

"I'm sorry." Clara said. He heard footsteps and then the Greene girl spoke.

"No need for an apology. You did what you thought was best. We've all had to make calls that's left someone upset. It's just...next time, remember we're a family and we stick together. I don' think Daryl would survive you doin' somethin' like that again."

"Thanks, for telling me."

Daryl carefully stood and felt that tightness in his chest. From this moment on, he'd have a new found respect for the youngest of Hershel's daughters. She had said it. Despite his need to survive and keep the group and Clara safe, he knew he'd never survive losing her again. It had hurt too much. It had been what you hear in songs and those sappy movies his Momma would watch when he was kid.

So collecting himself, he knocked on the door and within seconds Beth's face greeted him.

"Almost done, give'r a second." She smiled, took the clothes, and shut the door back. Daryl sighed and cracked his neck, leaning against the wall. Minuets later Clara and Beth came out. The youngest girl excused herself and left the two alone. He let his eyes roam over her face, now clean and free of dirt and blood. Clara looked amazing. There wasn't nothing special done, just her standing there in her old jeans and shirt. Wet hair.

But that was the thing, to Daryl she didn't need anything to make her beautiful. He blinked and averted his eyes for a moment, trying to get a grip on himself.

"Feel better?" He asked her. The short blonde nodded and gave him a small smile.

"Like a new woman. I'm just tired already. Thinking maybe I really did myself in." Clara's hazel eyes reflected what she'd said. They were heavy already and she seemed slow in her movements as they walked towards his cell.

"So, am I relocated to your room now?" Her voice seemed too soft, her exhaustion making it sound like honey. Daryl felt a moment of panic, would she feel comfortable being that close to him? Sure she stayed last night with him but she had also been nearly delirious.

"If ya want." When they got to his cell, she looked around and up to the top bunk. He just watched her think. Clara smiled, lips barely turning up and reached for his hand without looking. Hesitantly at first, he laced his fingers through hers. After his mind calmed, his hold became more firm. Without a word, she squeezed and climbed into his bed. "I reckon that answers that question." He mumbled, feeling as if he'd just won the lottery.

Clara's eyes closed quickly and before long she was asleep. She'd survived and came back to him. They were together again. Daryl clenched his jaw, eyes looking over the small thin scars placed in random places of her face and neck. Those were the little ones, she'd been literally through hell...and fought her way back for him. The hunter took a deep breath and sat down in his chair. They weren't 'together', it hadn't been announced or claimed, but in his heart he knew he began and ended with the young woman snoozing softly in his bed.

Right now Clara was physically drained and he was sure partially in shock. She looked around as if she thought this was a dream. Before she left, there was a fire in her eyes that challenged him. Her smart mouth and flippant way she'd make decisions had driven him crazy. Good and bad. They had been a team, and they still were. Right now, Daryl knew he had to make sure she healed. Inside and out. He'd get her out soon, run her through her paces with her bow. Have Beth come in and sing with her, he might even stick around to listen this time.