Jesus Christ, Daryl blinked and rubbed his eyes. When did morning get so damned early? He staggered across the room to quiet the offensive noise emanating from the clock. Carol rolled over and stretched.

"Four thirty already?"

"Yep. Time to find out if Dwight's intel is any good."

Carol went to the window to view the street below.

"I'm assuming these are the junkyard people."

"This early?"

"They're just coming in the gate."

"Rick there?"

"Yes. And Michonne and Aaron."

"Let's hope the folks from the Kingdom remember the plan and stay outta sight."

They hastily made their way downstairs and out to the gate area. The junkers were still steaming into Alexandria, maybe forty in all. They carried the guns Rick had given them in exchange for their assistance. Rick and Jadis exchanged greetings and gradually gathered all of her people into a pre-arranged spot in front of Tobin's house. Though Daryl wasn't a paragon of the Queen's English himself, he found the group's speech patterns irritating.

Once they were all rounded up, and all of the Alexandrians were present, Rick raised his right hand in a fist. The plan went off without a hitch. Kingdomers appeared out of every nook and cranny simultaneously with their weapons drawn. In the street, between homes, on rooftops and in doorways. Jadis knew they were surrounded—outnumbered and outgunned.

"We win." Rick said.

The odd woman signaled to her followers to surrender their weapons. Game, set, match without a single shot having to be fired. Gotta like the way it's going so far, Daryl thought.

Daryl joined his friends in disarming the captured enemies.

But trouble was brewing—Rick and Ezekiel hadn't, apparently, decided on what to do with Jadis and her crew once they were caught. It was distasteful to them to kill so many unarmed men and women, but on the other hand, these were enemy soldiers who had come there to kill them, and it wasn't like they had any capacity for holding a large number of prisoners of war. If released, they could simply find more guns and return as numbers for Negan.

They were still debating the issue when the approaching trucks of the Saviors could be heard. Several of the fighters opened fire on the junkyard crew, taking out quite a few of them.

"Positions!" Ezekiel shouted. Everyone ran to their assigned places and aimed their guns at the trucks.

Negan never even got out of his vehicle. The battle was over as quickly as it began. The remaining Junkers took advantage of the chaos to flee into the woods. When the smoke cleared, eight Saviors lay dead on the streets of Alexandria, along with twelve Junkers and one man from the Kingdom.

Daryl and Michonne walked the perimeter of the fence, making sure none of the invaders remained, and that all of the dead had been prevented from turning. They started at the gate, moving in opposite directions, until they met in the middle of the back fence.

"Know anything about this?" Michonne asked as she held up a small wooden figurine. "I found it near the gate."

"Dwight carves these damn things," he said as he took it from her. He turned it over and read where someone had written a message on it.

'Tom. Noon.'

"Looks like we're meetin' him again tomorrow at noon."

( )

It was midday when Maggie, Jesus and Enid arrived, along with ten from the Hilltop who volunteered to fight. Daryl left on a hunt again with the same three companions, hoping to duplicate their success. They returned triumphant, with two deer this time.

The mood at Alexandria was exuberant following the initial taste of victory. With he fresh produce brought by the group from Hilltop, a barbecue feast was in order. As the day wound to a close, Rick, Michonne, Daryl, Carol and Maggie sat around Rick's kitchen table.

"You guys trust this guy?" Maggie asked.

"No," four voice answered.

"But so far what he's given us has been true," Carol added.

"He was the one with the burn scar? The one that stuck his crossbow in Glenn's face, right?" Maggie's eyes narrowed at the memory.

"My crossbow," Daryl said sadly. It still sickened him that his own weapon had been used against him and the people he loved. "But, yeah."

"I wonder how he got those scars."

"Punishment," Daryl informed them. "When they step outta line, Negan makes a show outta burnin' their face with a hot iron, right out of the fire."

"Iron?" Carol asked.

"Yeah, like you use to iron clothes."

"Why on earth don't they just kill him?" Maggie asked.

"Fear and intimidation are powerful tools," Carol replied. Silently, she thanked her lucky stars that Daryl hadn't been subjected to that particular torture. What had life been like for him there? She got up from the table to get another cup of tea, and the tiny bandage peeking out of the back of Daryl's shirt caught her eye. It looked dirty. We'll have to change that, she axe a mental note.

When the gathering broke up, they returned to Daryl's bedroom and readied themselves for bed.

Carol came up behind him and put a hand on his right shoulder.

"This dressing needs to be changed."

She immediately felt his muscles tense.

"It's fine."

"It's not fine," she insisted as she pulled back the shirt a little. "It's really dirty. You shower with this on?"

"Can't reach it to take it off."

"So ask someone," she scolded. "What's this from, anyway?"

"Gunshot. Through and through." Every time that fanned gunshot wound was mentioned, it sent a shiver down her spine. She had been shot, too, twice, and on the same day Daryl was, but hers were limbs. His was right in the chest.

"The one's been off from the front for several days. Time for this one go, too."

"I said it's fine," he barked, more forcefully than he'd intended.

Carol drew back her hand. Why was he so adamant about this? He clearly did not want her to touch it. But it needed to be touched, dammit!

"Daryl." She said softly, in the calm, patient tone that usually worked with him.

He hesitated a few moments, then sighed and began unbuttoning his shirt.

Once the shirt dropped away from his back, she understood. She tenderly traced one of the long scars with her finger.

"Tried to hide it with the tattoos, but I gave up. Just made the scars more colorful."

She leaned forward and spoke into his ear.

"This isn't anything to hide, Daryl. There's no shame here. If anything, it's a testament to your inner strength and character."

She gently removed the bandage. The wound was healing well, so she decided to leave it uncovered. They climbed into bed.

"He really was a monster, wasn't he?" It was more a statement than a question.

"He was," Daryl confirmed.

They lay quietly in the darkness until Daryl spoke again.

"I think I'm turnin' into him."

"You?"

"The anger. The rage. I don't know what to do with it. I'll kill 'em. I'll kill 'em all. I don't give a shit why they're there."

She lifted her head and positioned herself to look him in the eyes.

"If all you had in your heart was rage, you wouldn't have lied to me up at the Kingdom. You wouldn't have left Hilltop to protect Maggie. You wouldn't be trying to give Eugene the benefit of the doubt. You're not a monster, Daryl. And you never will be. It's just not in your nature. You talk big, but your first instinct is mercy."

"Tell that to Fat Joey."

"Who?"

"The Savior I killed escapin' from the Sanctuary. He didn't draw on me or nothin', told me he'd step aside. What I did to him…I'm startin' to scare myself."

"If you hadn't killed him, he might've sounded the alarm as soon as you were past him. Or he might've shot you in the back."

She rested her head back on his still bare chest. "You're a good man, Daryl Dixon. You're not your father."

( )

"Welcome home," Tara said to Maggie as she sat down with her breakfast plate.

"Thanks," Maggie said. "I've missed everyone so much. It was really hard, though, I should've expected it but I didn't. It was really hard to be in our house without Glenn there."

Suddenly Daryl lost his appetite. He turned the fork over and picked at his food. His distress wasn't lost on Carol, so she rubbed his back in support.

Maggie was an incredibly strong woman. She had already endured the losses of her mother, brother and sister, and witnessed the horrific murders of her father and husband. Still she maintained a positive attitude and showed courage and kindness to those around her. Please let that baby be all right, Carol prayed.

Breakfast was an unhurried affair as the group's conversation shifted around from Glenn to Abraham to Sasha. The stories told were upbeat as they reminisced about their fallen family and remembered the good times that they shared instead of the bad. Drawing especially raucous laughter was the story about the time on the road before Alexandria that Abe bet Daryl he could catch a wild chicken with his bare hands. Abe had chased that damn chicken around for an hour before an exasperated and hungry Daryl had put an arrow into it.

Noontime found Carol once again just outside the mouth of the sewer pipe and Daryl just inside.

"Negan's pissed," Dwight informed them. "But he's already got a plan."

"And what's that?"

"He figures if everyone is at Alexandria, it's a good time to attack the Hilltop or the Kingdom and shut them down. Punish 'em. Hilltop's closer. He's headed there tonight."

Carol wasn't sure what to believe. They could take him at his word, and send everyone to defend Hilltop. But what if he were lying? All of the fighters would go to Hilltop and Negan would attack Alexandria. Or, what if he were telling the truth, but Negan was on to him and and fed him false information?

"Thank you," Carol said. "You really helped us out yesterday."

Dwight nodded.

"I have another request, though. Is there anyway you can get your hands on, or even draw, a complete detailed floor plan of the Sanctuary and all of the outposts?"

"What you gonna do with that?"

"I don't know yet," Carol confessed.

"I can do it. But I'm gonna be too far north tomorrow to get here. I'm gonna have to leave it somewhere for you."

"Such as?"

"You got a pen?"

Still hesitant to lower his crossbow, Daryl handed his bag to Carol. She fished in it for a moment and gave Dwight a pen and a notepad. He scribbled something and gave it back to her.

"What's this?" She asked. "An address?"

"It's a house in Fairfax. I'll leave the map there when I pass by in the morning."

( )

"So we all load up and go to Hilltop, and they come and crush Alexandria while it's unprotected?" Rosita prostested.

"Hilltop came here to help you," Jesus pointed out. "We had to leave our home unprotected to do that."

"Take it easy, everybody," Rick admonished. "There's a lot of moving parts to this thing. Let's sort it all out."

"Rick, we've got to get moving. If we run into trouble on the road, we won't make it in time," Maggie said urgently.

"Okay, what if we hedge our bets? Half here, half Hilltop," Rick suggested.

"Then both are vulnerable," Rosita opined.

"Should still be enough to hold their own unless Negan goes full bore," Daryl chimed in.

"If he sticks with three trucks," Carol said, "we should be good."

"But he's pissed off," Rosita noted. "He might send more to make a statement."

Rick drew in a deep breath. "All right, here's the plan. Dwight told us the truth last time. So let's believe him this time. I know, it could be a trap. But it's likely not. Let's send two thirds to the Hilltop. But I want some of my people in each place."

"I'm goin'" Daryl said.

"Okay," Rick agreed. "Carol, will you stay behind to keep Alexandria afloat?"

She nodded affirmatively.

"Rosita, I take it you're staying?"

"No," she said defiantly. "If this is the decision, I'll go. Let's do this."