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"You're lucky. The wood nicked a few veins, but everything else seems alright." Hershel remarks, laying the bandage back over my side gently. Daryl stands in the corner, arms crossed as he raises his eyebrows at Hershel in question. The veterinarian turns to Rick and Daryl. "I say she should be fine. Couple of bruised ribs, but they'll heal."

"So I can go back outside?" I ask. Being in the bed after all the time I had spent under the stars made me feel claustrophobic, not to mention there was still a missing little girl.

"Yes--" Hershel begins

"No." Daryl replies, cutting him off sharply. "They got tons of beds in here, you should stay until you're healed." He pauses, addressing me more softly. "You got stitches that could bust."

I scoff. "So? You do, too, and you're going back out." I pause, tilting my head at him. "You can't tell me what to do, Daryl."

Daryl scoffs, crossing his arms. "You're just going to go and---"

Hershel blinks once, putting his hand up at Daryl before turning to me. "You can go back out, pain permitting."

"So I can help look for Sophia?" I sit up straighter, ignoring the dull ache in my ribs.

"No." Rick, Hershel, and Daryl say simultaneously.

I throw a glare at Daryl, stopping whatever words start to come out of his mouth.

Rick rubs the back of his neck. "Look, Sonora. I know you want to help. We all do. But you can hardly stand, let alone fire an arrow." His eyebrows knit together. "Give it a couple days. I don't want to risk it. I never want what happened to you and Daryl to happen again." He rests his hand on my should genuinely.

I scowl, seeing his logic. "Fine. But can I atleast go back outside?"

This brings a small smile to Ricks face as he puts his hands on his hips, looking at the ground. "I don't have a problem with it."

"No, Rick, she---" Daryl begins. I sit up in the bed with a wince, and his arm twitches.

"Be careful with those stitches, now." Hershel warns as he and Rick leave the room.

I sit on the edge of the bed, hair loose and tangled. I painstakingly lean down to put my boots on but stop when Daryl kneels in front of me. "Let me." He gently eases on my boots, and I stand. Unbalanced, I lean forward and put my hands on his shoulders. Slowly, he stands up, hands gliding on the sides of my body as he makes sure I'm steady. "Okay?" He asks.

I nod as he leans closers, running two fingers lightly over the dark red bruises on my ribs.

Hesitantly, I reach out and grab his arm. "I'm fine. Really."

He blinks once, nodding slowly.

The two of us separate abruptly when the door creaks open. We both turn back to look at the petite blonde who enters, the youngest Greene daughter. "I brought you a new shirt, Daddy says you looked about my size." I look down. Right. Not wearing a shirt. She hands me a beige, linen tank top. "I'm Beth, by the way." I thank her, and she gives us a little wave and a shy smile before leaving.

Daryl's eyes wander down to my chest and I shove him lightly. "Turn around!" I hiss, yanking the shirt on. He snickers, turning toward the window. "This ain't the first time I seen you without a shirt, Pocahontas."

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