"Found her on the road." Aaron's voice was heavy with exhaustion. I made a mental note to give him a break from scouting for the rest of the week. The girl he'd just brought in was in rough shape. Blood and dirt soaked the front of her shirt. Her hair was matted and messy, and loose strands clung to her face with dry blood and sweat. The skin of her face looked pale and sallow. Surprisingly, she didn't look as thin and malnourished as the rest of us had when we'd first arrived in Alexandria.

"She bit?" I asked, wondering where the blood came from.

"I'm not sure." Aaron admitted. I could tell that he felt guilty for not checking before bringing her inside the walls. It was part of the protocol. Annoyance flashed through me, but dissipated quickly. Aaron's been working hard, I can't hold a mistake against him. Even if it's one that could have put us all in jeopardy.

Cautiously, I put the back of my hand to her cheek as he and Daryl laid her on the medical cot. She felt warm. The beginning of the fever or the result of literally running for her life? I eyed the bloody stain on her shirt again and let my hand hover over the spot. If I lift her shirt and see a bite, I have to kill her. I have to kill this sleeping woman. This completely vulnerable, unarmed and injured woman. Maybe it was better this way. Would anyone truly want to live the horrible reality we did these days?

This is the part I hate about leadership. These decisions haunt me in my sleep night after night.

"Better go get Denise, just in case." I say, and I see Daryl disappear through the doorway.

My hand touches the hem of her shirt, but before I can pull it up to reveal her wound, her entire body jerks away from me. I look up, completely startled by the movement.

She was awake. Dark eyes stared at me, flooded with terror and confusion. Her body moved quickly as she propelled herself off the table. I watched those eyes dart around the room frantically, chest heaving.

"It's alright." I tried to calm her but she didn't even hear me. She spots the little metal cart that Denise uses to hold all of her tools. The girl's hand clamps around a scalpel and she holds it in front of her. I hadn't even realized that I'd drawn my gun, but my instinct must have taken over. It's trained on her, and I can see Aaron's hand creep down over the knife he has sheathed in his belt.

"We don't want to hurt you." his voice was slow and sure, and I prayed that it got through to her. She said nothing, but stared at my gun. Her eyes clung to it as if it were the last drop of water in the desert. For a moment I thought she may try to grab it from me, but then she spoke.

"Where am I?" her voice was hoarse and small from disuse.

"Alexandria." I watched her eyes flicker from the gun up to my face. "Are you bit?"

"No." She answered almost too quickly. Aaron and I exchanged a glance.

"Mind if we see for ourselves?" Her eyes went wider at Aaron's request. I made a show of lowering the gun, hoping that she'd do the same with the scalpel. Aaron took a step towards her, his hands low and open to show he was unarmed. "We just need to make sure you're not sick before we let you around our people. We don't want to hurt you."

A shadow moved behind her through the threshold of the door. With her back to the door, she had no way of knowing that Daryl had been drawn back in by the noise. In one easy motion, he cast his arms out and around her middle, pinning her arms to her sides and causing the tiny blade to clatter to the floor. The girl howled in surprise, and what I'm pretty certain was pain.

"Go get Denise." I turned to Aaron who was visibly shaken. It's easy for me to forget how sheltered the people of Alexandria had become. To them, Daryl's force was unnecessary, an overreaction. I had hoped that Negan's display of… violence, would have snapped them out of that fairytale world. But even Aaron, who had been there, who had seen the bloodshed of our friends, still recoiled at this sight. But we knew better. To survive, we had to overreact, because the result of under-reacting was death. As he hurried out of the room, glad to have an excuse to leave, I focused back on the girl.

She was still struggling against Daryl, but even I could tell that her strength was depleting. Her head reared back and slammed into Daryl's nose at the same moment that her foot drove up and back into his groin. The man stuttered backwards with a groan, releasing her.

"Wait!" I yelled, knowing that her next move was to make a run for the door. And I was right. Running after her, I holster my gun. She was no longer armed, I had no need for it. Her strides were long, but I caught up to her quickly wrapping my hand around her wrist and whipping her towards the wall just before she made it to the door leading outside. Her back hit the wall with a cringeworthy thud. I brought my forearm up against her chest, pinning her in place and keeping my body at an angle so I wouldn't share Daryl's fate.

"No!" She screamed as she began to scratch at my arm. That's when I saw them. The deep and brutal bruises encircling her wrist. She'd been tied up. Tight, and for a long stretch of time. My first urge is to let up, but I need to know if she's infected. So I reached between us with my free hand and yanked her shirt upward. Her struggles become harder, more frantic while I stare down at her side.

It's not a bite. But something told me that whatever, or whoever, had caused it was worse than a walker. Along her side were several lacerations. They weren't long, but they were deep and bloody. They were complemented by vibrant bruises covering her entire midsection, hinting at a few broken ribs.

My eyes lifted back to hers, questions swirling around my head. But those questions were lost when I found nothing but pure, unobstructed terror looking back at me. I knew that look. I'd worn that look not too long ago while I knelt with my family in front of a mad man. Her fear and the strange injury told me it had been people, living people, who had hurt her.

"We're not them. We're not the ones who did this to you." I let my arm fall away and took a step back, dropping her shirt in the process. "I won't hurt you." I don't know why, but I felt like I had to make that clear, I had to convince her of that one simple fact.

Even though I was no longer holding her in place, she stayed against the wall, as far from me as the tiny hallway would allow. I watched the way her body trembled and swayed slightly. She was going to pass out soon.

"I'm Rick." Making sure to keep my voice low and soft I asked for her name. I let the silence settle between us for a few moments, giving her a chance to process my question. I'd interviewed enough victims before all of this to know that pushing for quick information wouldn't get me anywhere. Especially right after something traumatic.

"Elena." she whispered after a long pause.

"Elena." I tested the name as I nodded, unsure of what my next move should be. "We have a doctor. She can help you."

At her side, I watched her dirty hands tremble. I thought for sure she would refuse the help, that she'd make another run for it instead. But to my surprise, those dark eyes, nearly black in the unlit hallway, found their way to mine.

"We don't want to hurt you." I felt compelled to repeat the words one last time. FInally, she nodded and followed me back into the room