This is going to be more of a ramble than anything, but I figured I'd go ahead and put this out there. A prompt on the kinkmeme inspired me and here I am, way in over my head. It is very late and I should be in bed. And I should have waited to post this. Oh well, I guess. Enjoy?

Any form of light was growing dimmer as the day slowly folded into night. The wind howled as it cut through the small cracks of the train car. A clash of thunder boomed in the distance, warning of an oncoming storm.

"I don't understand. What's the plan here?" Sasha got back on her feet, arms crossed.

Up until this point, train car A had been fairly silent. Not wanting to give away any meaningful information, or a plot devised against these people of Terminus. Everyone was growing impatient.

Rick placed a palm in the air, signaling for Sasha to lower her voice, knowing there had to be someone on guard close by. Probably more than one.

He got back on his feet as well. "I'm still trying to work through some things."

"Well, maybe you'd like to enlighten us on what these plans of yours might consist of," Abraham started in.

And that simple line was what had everyone all worked up, back on their feet in an instant. Agitated. Pointing fingers and raising voices. Mostly between Abraham and Rick. The others joined in when it felt necessary to back who they believed.

It was Carl who noticed first. Realized that someone was missing from the fray. Someone who typically had something to say when the going got tough. And he was being remarkably quiet.

"Daryl?" Carl squinted in the looming darkness. He could make out Daryl's form sitting in the corner. But he didn't have his knees pulled up with his arms resting across them like he had earlier. No. He looked like he was unconscious.

Carl inched forward, got down on a knee beside him. Reached out and grabbed his jacket clad arm. It would have usually elicited some type of response, but this time he received nothing except silence.

"Guys!" Carl tried to yell over the commotion. "Guys, stop!"

It grabbed Michonne and Eugene's attention first. Then Tara's. Rick and Abraham were still going strong. Sasha, Rosita, Glenn, and Maggie were only seeming to fuel the fire at this point.

"Something's wrong with Daryl!"

Those words brought the train car right back to silence. How it had been for most of the time they had spent there so far.

"What do you mean? Was he shot?" Glenn stepped forward, his voice heavily laced with concern.

"But he was just fine?" Maggie furrowed her brow.

Michonne, having noticed Carl's cries for help before the lot of them, had already joined his side. She stooped beside Daryl, cupped his face. Examined his features.

She stood up straight and placed a hand to Carl's forehead, causing him to blink in confusion.

"He feels cool. Colder than Carl, definitely."

"Is he breathing?" Rick's voice was full of panic once he noticed Daryl sitting unconscious in the corner. He made his way back over to them, immediately taking a knee and searching for a pulse.

Without another word, Bob took the liberty to step forth and do what he could. Everyone made way for him as he situated himself beside Daryl.

"What happened?" Bob inquired. He looked to Rick for an explanation since Daryl had been with him, he looked a bit roughed up, and Rick was the closest in proximity of the three.

"He took some hard hits. Two against one." Rick rubbed his face. "That's the short version."

Bob checked Daryl's carotid pulse before working his jacket and shirt undone. He seemed to stare at his chest a moment before gingerly running a hand across Daryl's ribs. And since Bob had brought attention to it, there were some deep shades of purple splattered across Daryl's left side.

"His breathing is compromised," Bob concluded. "Not entirely, but enough. I don't think he's getting enough oxygen."

Rick crouched down, balancing his elbows on his knees as he held his own head. How had they not seen it before? Why hadn't Daryl said anything?

"What do we do?" Tara questioned.

And before anyone could reply, say or do anything else, Rick was back on his feet. He marched the short distance to the door and slammed his fist against it. Desperation had piqued:

"I know someone is out there! I know you can hear me! We need help! One in our group is hurt, and he's not breathing!"

Things seemed to be at a standstill. It was absolutely silent for the longest time. Thoughts were racing. What if Daryl ended up dying due to asphyxiation? He'd come back. They didn't have any of their weapons. They wouldn't want to put him down, if it came to that.

Then there were muted mumbles, from outside the train car. Couldn't have been far. They had to have heard Rick's plea.

"Hey, assholes!" Tara's outburst half startled Rick as she pounded the palm of her hand against the metal. He was pleasantly surprised to see her put forth such an effort to help. "Open the door!"

There was another brief moment of silence followed by a heavy sigh. Some kind of metal clanked together. Most likely some sort of lock.

"Everyone get back, and don't try anything," a male voice warned through the door.

Seeing no point in arguing with that, everyone followed the order. They stepped back just as the door slid open, the grinding of metal on worn metal reverberating through the car.

There was a subtle click and a bright light that temporarily blinded everyone, footfalls belonging to two people, before they realized it was a flashlight. And it was soon trained on Daryl. His skin had already taken on a pale, sickly appearance.

"Just... stay put. We'll find some help for your friend."

The two men carrying AKs strapped around their torsos began to retreat. One had grabbed the handle to the door and initially yanked it to pull it shut. It moved, but not very fast.

"You're kidding, right?" Glenn stepped forward but threw his hands up into the air to show he meant no harm. "You can't just leave!"

A sudden hand reached out, body hidden from their view. Landed on the man's shoulder who held the door. And whatever happened between the newcomer and the men on guard, the door fully reopened.

"And wouldn't you know it." Gareth stepped out into the opening. "Help just arrived."