How did we get here? Well, Andrea can’t follow simple instructions, that’s how. But your daddy, Hershel, told you not to judge people who are trying to do the right thing. As stupid as they can be sometimes.

Daryl is lying in bed, bored as ever, simply staring up at the ceiling as he waits for his wounds to heal decently enough that he can be out and about. He feels uncomfortable being shirtless, with the scars that litter his back, but at least he’s alone and has a blanket to cover himself if need be.

As one of Hershel’s daughters, with a decent amount of medical knowledge, you’ve been the one to check up on Daryl throughout the day. It’d been a couple hours since you’d last stopped by his room, so now, you’re knocking gently, waiting for him to give you permission to enter.

He frantically covers himself with the warm blanket before speaking. “Come in.” He says in a slightly irritated tone. It isn’t your fault, of course. He just sounds like that with everybody.