The next several days were long and slow. At the start of each day, Serena checked on Hershel to find him sleeping soundly in his cot. On one early morning, she was surprised to see Beth diligently altering a pair of pants for him in a chair by his side. As they briefly exchanged words, Serena soothed the young woman that her father was going to be alright, and that he has been recovering incredibly well. It wasn't a lie. Hershel's bleeding had reduced surprisingly well and his heart rate was slowly returning back to normal.

As dusk settles one late afternoon, encircling the prison in orange and yellow hues, illuminating the cell block through broken windows, and softening all the rough edges of this concrete fortress. The prison was no longer looking cold and inhospitable, but warm and inviting. Each day, the bunks were appearing more and more soft as sleep called to her every hour. It was starting to feel more like home than a jail cell. Everyone took part in cleaning the place up and making it more homey. Serena was grateful that Lori, Beth, Maggie and Carol have all offered to take shifts with looking after Hershel as she rested.

When the group finally discovered the cafeteria, and after negotiating with a few surviving prisoners, Serena was given a couple of bottles of water, a few granola bars, and a jar of peanut butter to keep inside her cell for herself. Her heart was bursting with appreciation for their generosity, despite the fact that she knew it wasn't necessary. Yet she could not stop thanking them. Even after everyone kept reassuring her, over and over again, that she's part of them and had the right to claim her portion of the group's provisions.

Sitting next to Hershel, Serena bites into a granola bar with tired yet watchful eyes on her comatose patient. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Rick walk in and take the empty seat next to her, settling down with a friendly smile. "Hey," he said softly, "How're holding up?"

Rick must've noticed the look on her face, her eyes bloodshot from not getting enough rest. It was her duty as a nurse and the group's medic to look after the sick or injured. So Serena remained vigilant on her patient as long as she could, even going as far as refusing help from the others. So she stays awake as long as she could.

Letting out a light laugh, Serena chewed on a her granola bar then swallowed; "Fine—Just can't remember the last time food tasted this good," she says, ignoring the little voice in her head telling her to go to get some rest.

"Well we've got plenty of it these days," he tells her, giving her a gentle pat on her shoulder. "Hey," Rick says with a kind smile. "I'm really glad you're here."

Serena nods and smiled happily back at Rick, but as he stood up, a low and muffled moan was heard echoing inside the small jail cell.

"Look! He's wakin' up!" Rick noticed Hershel was slowly waking up. "Beth! Maggie!" He shouts out into the hallway. "Come quickly!"

Sure enough, Hershel was trying to pull himself up into a seated position. Serena rushed to his side, her hands out in front of her as she went to grab his shoulders to stop him from getting out of bed. "Lie back down, Hershel. It's alright."

As Serena took a breath, Maggie was immediately at her side, helping to prop Hershel up by his chest with a pillow. As Serena stepped back, Beth quickly ran in to be at her father's bedside as he wakes up. Kneeling in front of him, Beth's smile was as bright as the sun itself.

Hershel slowly opened his eyes with a low groan. He soon turned his head towards Maggie and Beth then smiled groggily at the sight of his daughters. "Well," he said. "Good mornin' to y'all."

"Oh, daddy. You've been asleep for weeks," Beth said. "But Serena saved you."

Then T-Dog came in, "Hershel, so nice to see you up," he says as he walks.

One by one, the others filtered in until the cell became packed with visitors. Serena was starting to feel claustrophobic, so she decided to leave Hershel with his family to get some much needed fresh air. Her head was pounding and her eyelids were heavy. Her body moved as if on autopilot. Her mind void of all thoughts. She was exhausted. But it was worth it now that Hershel is awake.

The second she opened the door leading out into the main courtyard, the humid air smacks her in the face as the bright sun burned her eyes. It was in this state of temporary blindness, vigorously rubbing her eyes to alleviate the discomfort, is when she became aware of just how long it's been since she's left the dimness of the cell block.

Once her vision adjusts to the sun's rays, the large grassy field came into view. A pile of dead bodies were gathered in the center, walkers were pressed up against the exterior fence line as they snarled at her. Death and decay surrounded her, but she was no longer affected by the stench. It felt normal these days. At this time, her legs finally gave way as she sank down onto the stoop in front of the door.

Pulling her thighs up to her chest, her keels on the lower step, her arms wrapped around her legs as she rests her forehead onto her knees. She breathes in sharply as her consciousness begins to fade away. Lack of sleep is something she has become accustomed to over the years, but this was entirely different. Right now she's feeling more like one of those corpses in the pile.

Maybe she could...shut her eyes...just for five minutes...

She was about to doze off when the door opens and shuts behind her, followed by a pair of black sneakers stomping down the steps. She feels this man take the open space next to her on the step and lights a cigarette. She knew who it was. Since joining this group, Daryl has not been the most friendly towards her. Neither of them spoke for several minutes as they sat quietly together on the steps, but Serena felt grateful for the company. Surprisingly, Daryl is the first to break the silence.

"You did good, Doc," he mutters low as he takes puff off his cigarette, yet there was a newfound sense of respect in his voice. Serena picks her head up in response. Did Daryl actually give her a compliment?

Her attention turns towards his outstretched arm as he offers her a draw off his cigarette. For a second she almost wants to accept his offer of peace, but pauses for a moment. As a nurse, she can't help but think of the negative effects of cigarette smoke. Even in the apocalypse, her education and experience working in health care still influences her choices.

She wants to take it, but decides against it. Gently placing the palm of her hand on his wrist, she looks over her shoulder at him and says,  "I appreciate the offer, but I don't smoke."

Daryl scoffs and says, "Suit yourself," as he pulls his arm away from her and takes a draw off his cigarette. Deciding to ignore his response, she returns to her original position. She wraps her arms around her legs and stares out into the large field. They stay there like this for a while in silence. Serena sits quietly next to Daryl as he finishes his smoke break.

"He's gunna need crutches," she mutters softly as Daryl puts out his cigarette on the step. "I think there's one in the infirmary," she explains. But as she prepares to stand up, Daryl gets to his feet before she had the opportunity to move.

"No, you need rest," he says as he moved to stand in front of her, "Let's go."

"But what about—" she tried to protest, but Daryl interrupted her.

"He's got us," he muttered softly as he holds out his hand for her to take. "Come on."

She graciously accepted his offer and they touch hands for the first time. He helps her up to her feet as his tense eyes locked onto hers. She never noticed his eyes before now. They were a mixture of blue and grey—like the ocean on a cloudy day. She hadn't expected him to be this cordial towards her. She suddenly felt overwhelmed by him. They have never been this close before.

Daryl was just a surprised at this exchange as she was. He found himself staring at her mouth, mesmerized by the sensual action. When her eyes flicked up to his, he swallowed nervously. He stared into her dark chocolate eyes, fanned by long brown lashes, and then her full lips pouted in response to this unexpected predicament. Shit, she was so goddamned pretty.

Suddenly he became uncomfortably aware of the feminine softness and curves of her body. When she smiled at him, he guiltily cleared his throat and diverted his gaze as he rapidly released her hand. "Go get some rest," he ordered as the runs up the steps and through the metal door. So much for keeping his distance.

Still trying to get her head around what had just taken place, Serena tried to calm the butterflies that were swirling around inside at the memory of Daryl holding her hand. But she sidestepped the thought as quickly as it came. Sleep was summoning her and she finally felt safe enough to let herself give in to its intoxicating call.