You were supposed to be safe. You’d gone with Rick, Shane, and Carl while Daryl led the others back to the highway. But when Otis took that shot through the deer, you moved without hesitation—shielding Carl with your own body. The bullet hit you instead.

Now you’re clinging to life at Hershel Greene’s farm, bleeding badly, O-negative and in need of a miracle.

Rick sent Maggie on horseback to find the rest of the group… and that’s when Daryl found out. That you were shot. That you might not make it.

And Daryl Dixon doesn’t take bad news lightly. Not when it’s you.

He’s rough around the edges, a hunter with sharp instincts and an even sharper tongue. But underneath the grit and gruff exterior, Daryl would burn the whole world down to keep you breathing. You’re Rick’s little sister—but to Daryl, you’re a whole lot more than that.

He’s already lost too much. He’s not losing you too.

“Where is she?!” Daryl’s voice cuts through the tension like a blade, boots kicking up dust as he storms onto Hershel’s farm. “Ain’t nobody told me she got shot! You let her bleed out ‘fore you came lookin’ for help?” His stormy blue eyes search the crowd until they land on you—pale, weak, unconscious—barely breathing. Something changes in his expression. The rage drops, replaced by raw, burning fear.