Pacing kept her awake. Serena walked back and forth in front of the cell where Hershel lay unconscious. The group had put their trust in her. Everyone was watching her; she was aware of that. But she didn't mind. She didn't expected anything less as she cared for the older man lying on the cot. Time made no sense as she tended to him.

It had probably been several hours by now, maybe more, and Hershel hadn't moved but he also hasn't stopped breathing either. Each time Serena went in to check on him, his pulse was weak but present, his breathing steady, and his skin was dry. He hasn't develop a fever, which was a good sign. Serena tried to give the family time alone with him.

So whenever Beth or Maggie walked in, Serena let them have their private time together. They were very appreciative each time they came in. Hershel had to live, not just because she could not bear to lose her first patient, but because he trusted her and she did not want to fail him. Each time she went into his cell, they let her slip past them to check on him. Each time, there were no changes to his vitals.

As the hours rolled by, Serena found herself bent over her patient and resting her weight against the upper bunk. Hershel remained unconscious, not unusual after experiencing such a traumatic event. But he was strong. His breathing remained stable and he had a pulse to match. His heart was like an ox. The color on his face was slowly returning to normal and he started to look rather peaceful.

Some time during the late afternoon, Carl came in with a bag full of first aid supplies he discovered in the infirmary. Even though Lori was not happy about her son going off alone, she knew they were very fortunate to have them. The boy was incredibly brave for being so young. Now Serena was finally able to get some fluids into him. Sweat ran down her nose and dripped onto his chest as she hooked an IV onto the corner of the bunk.

Serena saw Lori at the door with Carl, while Beth stood by crying with Maggie clinging to her. Serena moved to tilt Hershels' head back, then tossed the pillow that was behind his head onto the floor to get more air into his lungs. He is the first patient she'd had since before the apocalypse. There was not a chance in hell that she was going to let this man die without a fight. Not like this, in a filthy jail cell with his daughters watching.

***

A while later, out of the corner of her eye, Serena noticed Daryl standing by the door of the cell. She looked up and over at him and they made eye contact. At first they just glared at each other. Her arms were caked in blood, from her fingertips to her elbows, as well as around her neck and down the back of her white cotton shirt. Daryl's body and face was smeared with dirt and blood that hasn't been washed in months, his usual appearance. His dark hair covered his eyes, his sleeves cut at the shoulder, and his line of sight was set on her in a hard stare.

After what felt like a century, Serena's body started shaking as her heart thrashed in her head. She didn't want to concede to him right away. She needed to show him that she is strong and was ready for him. She felt prepared for whatever criticisms or backhanded comments he had planned to say to her.

"He gonna be alright?" Daryl asked stoically. At first, all she could do was glance back at him blankly. He felt his stomach tighten at the sight of her. Despite the blood that stained her skin, she was still strikingly beautiful.

"I think so," Serena soon answered, not breaking the stare. But after a few more seconds, she eventually turned her head away from him, her exhausted eyes looking down at Hershel on the mattress. "At least I hope so."

"You gonna be alright?" He asked her, but his words sounded genuine. Confused, Serena looked over her shoulder at him. Daryl was now leaning against the metal frame of the doorway, looking at her with an enigmatic expression.

To say that his question was unpredicted would be an understatement. Serena wasn't sure why he asked or what circumstances there was behind it. But she was both surprised and relieved that he hasn't shouted at her. At first, she didn't know how to respond. She didn't know if she was okay or if she would be later on. It's possible she caught a glimpse of his softer side. She'd seen the way he acted around some of the others, especially with Carol.

In this tense standoff, Serena couldn't help but notice that his body was slender yet athletic, and she couldn't help but glow a little at their brief interaction. There was something about him, and despite his bitterness towards her, she still would like to get to know him more. He is, after all, part of the group.

"I think so," she responded with a gentle smile. "At least—" she continued softly as her facial expression slowly turned more solemn, returning her gaze back down to Hershel laying on the bed. "I hope so."

In her mind, she kept replaying Hershel's soothing assurance over and over. She tried to make herself believe him and let his words wash over her. But it was hard to focus. Her family flashed to the forefront of her mind, pushing past some of the defenses she tried to built up since joining this group.

Daryl just nodded once as he watched her. That smile of hers made him feel weak, but he was surprised that it didn't feel at all unpleasant. An eerie silence fell between them as he slowly walked up from behind her. His footsteps got louder as he got closer, rousing her attention.

"He's gonna need more painkillers and some anti-inflammatories. Might have to put'em in the IV and then clean the wound again," she explained, keeping her eyes down at the older man laying on the mattress.

Daryl scrunched up his nose with a grunt. "Whatever you say, doc."

"Not a doctor."

"Course you are. You got that fancy ID and everythin'."

"Yeah," Serena said. "But it says 'nurse' on it."

Daryl shrugged. "Doesn't matter these days. If you got the training, then you're a doctor."

A light huff passed her lips, a dry laugh. She turned and walked slowly past Daryl to grab a few pill bottles from the duffel bag. She also took a new IV to keep his fluids up. She quickly returned to Hershel's side to change the old saline pouch for a fresh one.

"Thank you," she says softly.

"For what?"

"For not killing me," she replied as she looked over her shoulder at him.

His stare was intense, fostering something she couldn't quite make out, and he looked back at her for a long moment before speaking in a low voice, "Might not always feel that way." He paused as he turned around and started walking towards the door. "But y'welcome."

Soon, his frame filled the doorway as he hesitated for a moment. He looked over his shoulder at her and paused once more. "Need anything?"

"For now, no."

"Thanks," he said. "For what you're doing."

"Kinda my job, but I'm happy to help," she said. As he left, Serena focused on the wings of his vest where they poked out from behind his crossbow.

Daryl wasn't sure what happened. The last time they spoke, they were not friends. But somehow, she has created a space inside his mind. He felt like he was getting soft, which has distracted him from his normal routines. This overwhelmed him with unfamiliar emotions. He felt irate and warmhearted at the same time, which confused the hell out of him. His usual response is to shut down and keep his distance.

For now, it would probably be best if he stayed away from her for a while, at least until he felt like he was back to normal and in control.