The prison gates dragged open, allowing Daryl to ride his motorbike up the beaten path and into the safety perimeters. He blinked the sweat out of his eyes as he rode, his vision swimming in and out of focus. He heard the gates drag shut back behind him as he attempted to pull himself off of the bike, clutching at his side. The effort required caused him to groan out loud, his vision beginning to blur.

'Daryl,' he heard the sound of Glen's voice, but he couldn't make out from where.

'Daryl, are you okay man?!' more urgent now.

Daryl tried to get himself off of the bike again, but he had drained all of his energy making it back to the prison. He glanced down at his side to see the crimson blood seeping through his own fingers, intermingled with mud and grime. Suddenly he felt hands on his shoulders, and Glenn swam in to view.

'What happened?' he demanded, his voice steady but urgent.

'Fell,' Daryl grunted.

He could hear Glenn calling for Maggie and soon he could feel himself being dragged upright and off of his bike. Noises buzzed around him as he struggled to focus on any one thing, his head pounded and the gaping wound in his side continued to bleed profusely as he groggily worried about the state of his bike.

'Beth, Beth!' he could hear Maggie's twang calling to her little sister, 'Beth we're gonna need your help baby! Daddy's still bedridden, but you know what to do!'

'I don't-' a voice stammered, as Daryl felt himself laid down onto a cold surface.

'You do, Beth, you've been with him, working, he's been teaching you!'

'Okay, okay,' flustered, Beth began to gather all that she needed, 'remove his shirt,' she said, pointing to the man laying on the infirmary bed, 'and keep him awake!'

'Okay, okay - Daryl, can you hear me?' Maggie spoke as Glenn set to work removing Daryl's vest and shirt, feeling the fabric away from the sticky mass of blood.

'Christ, what happened?' Beth gasped, seeing the wound in Daryl's side.

'I'm not sure, he said he fell.' Glenn said. 'Is it bad?'

'It's deep, yeah. But he'll be fine. He should be fine.' Beth nodded as she set to work washing and clearing out the area.

She wiped layers of mud and soil and filth from the area as the blood continued to drain out onto her hands. The gash was deep and nasty so she wanted to minimise any risk of infection from the dirt. He already appeared delirious and if fever had gripped him, he would have a harder time fighting anything off. She took her time to clean and sterilise it, the flow of blood finally easing up, but never stopping. Both Glenn and Maggie stayed by and helped as best they could, wincing once she began the operation of stitching the flesh back together, pulling the flapping sections tissue back together over the steadily running opening. Daryl groaned and moaned all the while, occasionally moving and having to be restrained by Glen or Maggie, who held him down by the chest, but he didn't speak. So long as he was conscious, Beth considered him okay. She was no nurse, the only training she had was from watching her own Daddy, but she had picked it up quickly and could work swiftly and precisely with her small hands. Long ago, she had planned to become a vet, so gore and wounds did not phase or upset her, which was lucky for Daryl. Once Beth had stitched the skin together and bandaged the wound, she took a step back and breathed a heavy sigh.
'Daddy would be proud, Beth,' Maggie said to her little sister, somewhat breathless, as she pat her on her arm.

Beth nodded grimly, pushing her blonde hair back from out of her eyes. She left a streak of Daryl's blood through her blonde hair like a macabre highlight, her face covered in a light sheen of sweat, her hands and arms blood stained.

'We can clean up, if you want to go-' Maggie began, glancing at Glenn as she spoke.

'No, no,' Beth shook her head, 'I can do it. Faster, too. You two get back to your duties... we all have our jobs to do.' She flashed Maggie a smile, which she reciprocated.

The two of them removed their selves from the room, Glenn taking Maggie's hand in his own as Beth watched them leave. She looked down at the man on the bed, his brows furrowed together in pain. She had never had many dealings with Daryl Dixon, preferring to stay out of the older man's sight, his glare and general demeanour putting her on edge, so it was weird to see him lying there, helpless, and in her care.

She felt a rush of pride at herself for having helped him - he would probably never have thought she would ever be useful to him. He had become a respected member of their group, despite the sour disposition he projected to most people other than Rick and sometime Carol. He was a good hunter and a strong fighter, so it seemed weird to Beth that it had been her who had helped him – maybe even saved his life? Feeling pleased with herself, she set about tidying the room, cleaning and removing the soiled wash-cloths and wiping away the blood and dirt. Once that was done, she gingerly went over to inspect Daryl. He appeared to have fallen asleep, so Beth very gingerly reached out to place the back of her hand against his forehead, brushing the strands of hair which were plastered to his face aside. He felt hot and clammy. A little worried, Beth fetched a cold towel and pressed it gently to his head.

'Hey,' Carol's voice made Beth jump, her gaze snapping up from Daryl's face. 'Looks like you did a good job. How is he?'

'He's alright, a little hot,' Beth said, gesturing to the towel, 'but I think he'll be okay.'

'Your dad knows what you did, he's proud of you,' Carol smiled her warm, friendly smile. Beth smiled back, glancing back down to Daryl.

'I can take over if you'd like,' Carol said, stepping further into the room.

'Okay,' Beth nodded, handing Carol the towel, 'come find me if you need me.'

'Alright, thanks honey.' Carol said, returning to Daryl to take over from where Beth had just been, 'you go rest up.'

. . .

It was evening, and Beth was sitting alone in the prison canteen, absent-mindedly picking at her food. She had showered, standing up the lukewarm water for some time, watching Daryl's blood run off of her and disappear down the drain. She had found it hard to rest or relax for the rest of the day, worrying her doctoring skills had not been as good as she had hoped, or as the others had expected. Had they put too much faith in her? If something happened, if the wound became infected because of a mistake on her behalf, and anything happened to Daryl, she would never forgive herself. Daryl was a key member of their society. As she sat in the canteen now, musing these potential scenarios, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Carol wander into the room. She wondered whether Carol had been with Daryl the last couple of hours, whether he had shown any signs of life. Pushing her plate aside, she made her way over to the older woman.
'Hey, Carol,' she said as she reached her, 'have you been with Daryl?'

'I have,' Carol smiled at her.

'Is he... okay?' Beth asked, feeling weirdly awkward.

'He seems to be doing well, yes,' Carol said, 'I left Rick with him.'

'Oh right,' Beth nodded.

'Go and check on him if you want to,' Carol said.

'Oh no I'm sure he's fine,' said Beth, waving her hand as if to wave it away, 'Rick's with him.'

'Rick won't mind,' Carol said.

Beth chewed the inside of her cheek, pondering. She knew she needed to see for herself, or there was no chance of her sleeping tonight.

'Okay,' she said, 'I will.'

She left Carol to her food and made her way down to the infirmary, knocking gently on the door to announce her arrival to Rick, who was perched on the stool beside Daryl, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands laced together in front of his face.

'Hey, Rick,' she said softly. He turned to look at her, then smiled and put his hands down on his thighs.

'Beth,' he nodded, 'come to check on your patient?'

Beth chuckled, a little embarrassed.

'I guess. Wanted to make sure his wounds hadn't gotten worse or infected or anything.'

'You did a good job,' Rick said soberly, 'he's doing well.'

Beth wandered over to him.

'He's still sleeping?' she asked nervously.

'Yeah. He seems to have a fever, but I think he'll be okay. He seems over the worst of it now.'

'Right,' Beth nodded.

She noticed blood had begun to seep through the bandage at his side. 'I should redress that,' she said, pointing, 'I mean, unless you want to or-'

'No, you go on ahead,' Rick said, standing up and stretching. He ran his hand over his beard and yawned. 'You okay for a bit? I'm going to go grab some to eat.'

'I'm fine,' Beth smiled, 'you go. I can stay here for a while.'

Rick nodded, then said 'you're a real good kid, Beth.' before he left the room.

Beth smiled after him, genuinely happy to feel like she was contributing. She had always felt a little outside the group - she wasn't respected and wise like her daddy, wasn't a level-headed fighter like her sister. She was just...there, taking up space. She hated to see anyone hurt, but tending to Daryl had allowed her to prove her worth, even if it was just for a little while.

'How badly would you have fared without me, Mr Dixon?' she said softly as she peeled back his dressing to inspect the wound. Someone, perhaps Carol, had drawn a blanket over him, which she had pulled back to get to the wound. As her fingers brushed his skin, she felt the burning heat rise from him. She couldn't help but glance over his torso, across the lightly muscular frame, the broad chest, the occasional ink-work. Her stomach suddenly fluttered and she found herself swallowing hard. Daryl scared her so much she had never really looked at him, but out cold like this, she could appreciate what some of the other women in the prison had said about him. As she redressed his wound, she felt her hands shaking a little.

'Get a grip,' she whispered to herself. She replaced the blanket, then dragged the stool over to the wall, where she sat herself, facing towards the door. If she stared at Daryl any longer, her mind would start playing tricks on her.

Beth opened her eyes; she had drifted to sleep. Shaking her head, she turned to see her patient was still sleeping, although his features looked a lot more peaceful now. She got up and chanced a peek at the bandage, which still looked fresh and good. Turning back around, she headed to the sink in the corner and began to splash her face with cold water. Feeling refreshed, she began to move things around the room, tidying and organising things a little. She sung softly as she did so, a habit she was barely even aware of doing any more. After a little while, she turned back around, and almost jumped out of her skin when she realised Daryl was looking at her.

'You're awake!' she gasped, her hand flying to her chest.

He cleared his throat, his brows furrowing. He made to get up, but Beth rushed over to him and put her hands on his chest.

'Don't get up!' she said quickly, 'you might tear your stitches!'

Daryl stared at her, his eyes glazed and confused, then looked down at her hands on his chest. Beth pulled them away as though he had just suddenly seared red hot beneath her touch.

'Ya stictched me?' he grunted, his voice was rough and gravelly. He cleared his throat again.

'Yeah,' she said, her voice shaking a little, 'you - you had this real deep wound, I fixed it up for you.'

'Mm,' he grunted, closing his eyes as he lay his head back on the pillow, 'right.'

'I - how are you feeling?' Beth asked softly, playing with the hem of her shirt.

'Head fuckin' poundin',' he said gruffly, raising the arm on his good side to knead at his closed eyes.

'Okay, but you don't feel... sick?' she asked. He shook his head very slightly.

'Right, well I'll get you some water, and then I guess you will want to sleep it off some more,' she said.

'Mm, sound's good,' he muttered.

'Okay. Well, I'm glad you're okay,' she said, then cleared her throat, unsure of what to say. Her voice sounded wrong in her own ears, and the infirmary suddenly seemed very small and very hot. Daryl lay with his arm lay across his face, sparing Beth her embarrassment. She made him up a glass of water, and set it down on the stool which she replaced beside his bed.
'Goodnight, then,' she said. He grunted his response, but nothing more, so Beth left him alone in the room, figuring a guy like Daryl needed to be alone.