Daryl is tired, exhausted, but he refuses to let her do this. His fragile sense of pride, whatever little remains, wouldn't survived it. He thinks he's suffered enough goddamn indignities on this planet in the name of his health, this war, the welfare of others. He draws the line at a teenager rubbing his feet like he's some sick old man.

"Ll'do it," he says finally, and reaches his shaky hand out for her stupid potion.