Six and A Half Years Ago
Lydia looked up as a loud commotion started from somewhere outside the building they were hiding out in. The dead were unsettled - hissing, moaning, and groaning - she knew all too well what that meant.
They had set their sights on prey of some kind.
Her mother - no, Alpha, Lydia chided, still not quite used to the new title, you call her Alpha - glanced up from where she sat in the corner of the room in the old, rundown building they had taken shelter in, interest and annoyance blatant in her eyes. But she didn't make a move to get up, content on waiting for the dead to catch whatever it was that was riling them up. There was no need to get involved. The dead would capture their food and calm down eventually.
But the dead weren't calming down - they only seemed to be getting more wild as the seconds wore on. With a quiet sigh, Alpha pulled herself up to her feet and, without even sparing Lydia a single glance, grabbed her skin from where it lay on the floor and tugged it onto her face. As soon as she had it on her face, Alpha turned sharply, ducking through the half-opened door that led out into the hallway of the large building and leaving Lydia alone.
Lydia hesitated for a couple of moments in the spot where she currently sat, eyebrows knitted together in thought, wondering if she should stay in the room and wait for her mother to come back or go check out whatever was going on herself. In the end, her curiosity got the best of her, and Lydia slowly clambered up to her feet, grabbing her own skin (which still felt super weird to wear) and following her mother with quiet footsteps as she too emerged from the room and into the long hallway.
A cold gust of air rushed past her the moment that she took her first step out of the room, and she scrunched up her face, ducking her head and hugging her arms to her chest as she moved. It had been surprisingly cold out for quite some time now, which was the main reason that Alpha, Beta, Lydia, and the four others that they were traveling with had decided to take shelter in a building instead of somewhere out in the forest like they often did. They may be monsters, but that didn't mean they had to like the cold.
Thankfully it wasn't snowing, though Lydia was pretty sure that it wouldn't be staying that way for much longer. It would only be a matter of time before winter fully set in, and not even a building as big as this one could stop the cold from seeping in. They probably weren't staying here for long, though. They never did, no matter how dire the current situation may or may not be. We're monsters, her mother had said, and they don't care about how cold it may be.
As Lydia made her way down the long, winding hallway, she could spy the two members of the pack that Beta hadn't brought with him to go hunting, poking their heads out of the rooms they were hidden in. Both equally as curious about what was going on as it seemed. Lydia gave the two a wide girth as she passed them, still not entirely comfortable with being in the vicinity of anyone other than her mother. Not only that but one of them, the man whose name Lydia couldn't for the life of her recall, kept giving her this weird look. It's almost hungry, but Lydia didn't know why - what she did know, however, was that it made her skin tingle with anxiety and nerves and fear - his stare made her feel like prey, and she hated feeling that way.
In fact, she could feel his stare on her right now, and that only made Lydia move even faster, darting around the hallway's corner and after her mother, who stalked forward like a predator that was prepared to pounce. Anxious, Lydia gnawed on her lower lip, nearly running face-first into her mother's back after the woman pulled to a stop by the door leading to the outside world. At first, Lydia was confused as to why she stopped, but then as she listened, she could hear the sound of shouting, followed by a loud banging on the door.
"Open the door!" A voice yelled out, and Lydia's eyes widened when she recognized it.
It was Beta.
Alpha strode forward at the sound of his voice, motioning for Lydia to move to the side as her fingers closed around the door's handle. Lydia nodded, pressing her body against the wall right as her mother pulled open the door. Almost instantly, Beta's burst into the room, followed by the two others that he had brought out there along with him. Alpha slammed the door shut as soon as they were all inside, struggling slightly as the dead pushed against the door but managing just fine nonetheless.
Alpha took a couple of steps away from the door, eyeing it with disdain before turning sharply to look at the group of three that had caused so much turmoil and confusion among the dead surrounding the building. They were all wearing their skins and looked relatively uninjured, so there was no apparent reason as to why they had even caught the dead's attention in the first place. Unless one of them had panicked or something like that, Lydia couldn't see Beta panicking, but the other two... that seemed way more likely.
Either way, Alpha wasn't going to be happy with them - not at all.
Lydia hardly registered as the other two pack members came into view. Instead, she furrowed her brows, a small frown pulling at her lips as her eyes landed on something she hadn't seen at first glance. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could see that Beta was carrying something, something humanoid; a body? Why would Beta bring a body over here?
But as Lydia took an even closer look, she realized something very, very important. Although it mostly lay still in Beta's arms, she was able to spy the slow rise and fall of the body's chest as they took in ragged breaths. This 'body' was alive. The longer that she looked, the more details that Lydia was able to make out.
It was a boy Beta was carrying, she realized suddenly. A teenager, really, maybe a couple of years older than her if she had to guess - with long, dark, and matted hair that stuck to ghostly pale skin. Sweat trickled down the side of his face, but a darker liquid did as well - it was blood. That was most likely what had caught the dead's attention in the first place, she realizes.
Alpha took a small step forward, peering down at the boy before moving her gaze back up to Beta. "Explain." She demanded - her voice low and nearing silent. Lydia knew what that tone meant: it meant her mother was angry. Beta better have a good excuse for this - whatever this was.
Beta dipped his head respectfully as he began to speak in his deep and growly voice, "we found him and two others in a camp a few miles away. We were originally planning on watching them - to see if they were worthy of bringing back. But another group attacked them before we could come to a decision." Everyone here was listening in now, all eyeing the unconscious boy lying in Beta's arms with great curiosity. "-the group that attacked them killed the two older ones, but this one ran. He got injured, so we decided to bring him back."
"And why did you do that, Beta?" Alpha inquired, not looking at all impressed with Beta's decision. "If the boy was injured, that is his own fault. We do not let the weak into the pack." She practically spat out the last bit, beginning to circle Beta.
"I did it because he is not weak," Beta answered, raising his head to look at Alpha, "he survived a gunshot to the head, and his eye was shot right out-" Murmurs of surprise and interest rose up from the two behind Lydia. But Beta ignored them as he continued on, "-most would have died from blood loss or gone unconscious. The boy did neither. He managed to - not only fight off his pursuer - but push him into a group of the dead and run from the guardians pursuing him despite obviously suffering from blood loss. The boy has a fighting spirit. I think he might be of use to us in the future."
Alpha was silent for one long moment before walking forward, stopping in front of Beta and peering down at the boy in his arms. She brushed aside a strand of hair, and Lydia's eyes widened at the sight of the gaping hole on the right side of the boy's face. It looked like half of his face had been blown off - how was he even still alive?
"Take him to your room," Alpha said suddenly, "the boy is your responsibility for the time being, Beta. I want you to patch him up, keep him alive, and if he wakes up, bring him straight to me." Various murmurs of surprise echoed throughout the other four, and Lydia found that she agreed with them. Her mother never did things like this. So why was she doing it now?
Beta only nodded, unaffected by the hushed whispers, "Of course, Alpha."
In the Present
Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid-
Lydia's lungs ached and burned with the effort she was putting in to run. But she didn't care. All she cared about was getting as far away from her mother as she could. That was what she needed to do. What Delta told her to do. She could hardly even see a foot ahead of her, but she still ran because to stop and rest would mean she'd be left behind. And that meant she'd be on her own to deal with whatever search party her mother sent for her.
She couldn't let that happen.
In front of her, Henry fell with a muffled yelp. Lydia was at his side in seconds, as was Daryl. The blond had fallen hard on his stomach, and he let out a hiss of pain as he struggled to climb back up to his feet. Lydia stepped back, satisfied he wasn't about to die, as Daryl crouched down beside him. Glenn and the woman with the slingshot - Connie - stood a little ways away, and, predictably, Hershel was fast asleep in his father's arms.
Hershel really seems to like sleeping, Lydia noted briefly, turning her attention back over to Henry.
"You all right?" Daryl asked as Henry let out another wheeze of pain. Connie rushed forward, grabbing the boy by the arm to help him to his feet. Daryl stepped back, his face twisting into an odd expression.
"This isn't the way back to Hilltop..." Henry gasped out, looking around the area in sudden realization. Glenn walked forward, a sheepish smile on his face.
"Tara, Maggie, and I made a deal with those guys." Glenn explained, hefting Hershel up slightly. "We, uh, broke it. So we aren't going back to Hilltop until the coast is clear."
Lydia found herself nodding in agreement, holding Delta's hat a little closer to her chest. Actually... Lydia took a quick glance around before putting the hat on her head. It was a bit dusty, but Lydia could handle a bit of dust. The hat was comforting, nonetheless. It kind of smelled like Delta, too. Like forest and leather. She could now see why Delta used to wear it so much before her mom - no, Alpha - made him take it off.
"How long will that take?" Henry asked, looking to Glenn in confusion.
The man shrugged - well, as much as he could with Hershel in his arms. "Hell if I know. Might take a while."
"He's right. There's too many of them. Alpha would destroy Hilltop to get me back now." Lydia piped up, drawing the group's attention onto her. Daryl looked like he was about to say something that would no doubt be a biting remark of some kind. But then he paused, staring at the hat she now wore in confusion. Glenn noticed it seconds later, and even through the darkness, she could see his eyes widening in a mixture of recognition and surprise.
"Where'd you get that hat?" Glenn asked hurriedly, taking a step toward Lydia. Behind him, Henry and Connie watched on, clearly confused at the sudden change in subject. Lydia found herself equally as confused.
"It... it belongs to Delta," Lydia answered, and she watched, utterly baffled, as the blood drained right out of Glenn's face. He turned to Daryl, eyes going as wide as dinner plates.
"That's-"
Daryl cut him off, shaking his head. "I know."
Glenn stared at him in complete shock for a few long moments. Then, she watched as something akin to realization dawn in his eyes. "Holy shit..."
Henry looked between the two in confusion. "I'm... I'm sorry, are we missing something here? It's just a hat." He then looked at Lydia, "do you know what's going on?"
Lydia shrugged, wishing she did. "No clue."
Connie got up right as Glenn opened his mouth to say more. She looked right at Daryl, making a series of wild hand gestures that Lydia could not understand. Daryl watched her for a few seconds before nodding slowly, hefting his crossbow up as he started following her. "No, she's right. Come on. We gotta go."
"Wait!" Glenn cried out suddenly, and Daryl turned. He pointed his finger at Daryl, eyes narrowing and surprisingly solemn. "You and me are talking later."
"I know," Daryl responded, sighing heavily, almost as if he had expected this response, "but we need'ta get out of here first. Come on." He paused, watching as Connie veered to the right. "It's this way." He said, pointing to the left.
Connie made another series of hand gestures, face scrunched up in concentration. She motioned toward the right, taking another step in that direction. Daryl stared at her, clearly annoyed.
"Yeah, this way," Daryl said, slower this time, pointing once more to the left.
Connie pointed at herself in a gesture that Lydia finally began to understand. Connie wanted them to follow her. Lydia took a slow step toward Connie, which made the woman smile, making the same gesture for them to follow her once more before turning on her heel and jogging away into the trees.
After a moment, Lydia and Henry exchanged looks, shrugged, and ran off after her, Dog at their heels, growling softly. Daryl yelled something to the animal, and she picked up the sound of Glenn laughing as he ran off after them. She glanced back, catching sight of the amused grin on Glenn's face as Daryl finally gave up and followed them. Lydia looked back over at Henry, who had a smile of his own on his face, clearly noticing the same thing.
Behind them, she could hear Glenn and Daryl begin to argue in hushed whispers but remained unable to discern a single word of it no matter how much she tried to listen in. She could pick up a few words, but none of them made any sense, neither did the reason they were arguing - over a HAT of all things. That made no sense!
What about Delta's hat had caused Glenn and Daryl to act so weirdly? It was just a hat... wasn't it? She glanced back again, adjusting the hat somewhat before picking up her pace a bit to catch up with Connie and Dog, who were a few feet ahead of her, trying to push her uncertain thoughts to the back of her mind.
Needless to say, it didn't really work.
The small group followed Daryl and Connie as they made their way through an abandoned parking lot of some kind. In front of them was an old, rundown building - a former apartment complex of some sort, if she had to guess. She doesn't really know. Lydia doesn't remember ever seeing many apartment complexes in her lifetime. The main reason she even has the slightest idea of what it even was is because of Delta, who remembered so much more of the old world than she did.
The mere thought of her friend sent yet another pang of worry and fear coursing through her. Was he okay? Was he even alive? She didn't know, and that scared her more than anything. The thing was, Lydia knew that Delta could take care of himself. He's done it for years at this point, long before she ever met him. But the more irrational part of her - or the negative part - couldn't help but worry about him. He had been her only friend for so long, so if something happened to him...
Lydia would never forgive herself.
She still wished she had enough time to convince him to come with the rest of them. To go with her. But then again, even if they did have the time, Delta was stubborn. Horribly so. Once he had his mind set on something, almost nothing in the world could change his mind about whatever that thing may be. He had been like that for as long as she could remember - longer probably. The only people who he actually listened to without complaint were Alpha and Beta, and Lydia was pretty sure that was only because those two would kill anyone who disobeyed them.
Due to Lydia being so lost in her thoughts, she almost rammed right into Connie's back. The only reason she didn't was because Henry grabbed her arm at the last second, pulling her back. Lydia sent the boy a small smile, albeit a strained one, which Henry nervously returned. Connie didn't seem to notice the exchange happening behind her and instead turned to look over at Daryl and Glenn, motioning toward the old building - she then pulled to a stop, making a few more odd gestures.
Daryl squinted over at the building, "take the high ground," He mused, exchanging looks with Glenn before nodding. "Yeah."
Connie sent the man a grin, pulling her notepad and pen out once more, writing something down quickly. When she finished, she held the paper up for Glenn and Daryl to read. Lydia stepped to the side, squinting at the paper that Connie had written on and trying to figure out what it said.
Faintly, she still remembered the horrified look on Delta's face a couple years back when he learned she couldn't read - or at least, not well - he had then taken it upon himself to find as many books as possible to try and teach her. She still was no expert at it, but she was much better than had been before.
"Choke point?" Lydia said aloud, blinking slowly. What was that supposed to mean? She looked over at Henry, trying to figure out if he had any idea about it at all, but he looked just as confused as she was.
Daryl and Glenn, on the other hand, didn't seem to have that problem at all. In fact, the two of them seemed to understand it pretty much instantly. "Good idea," Daryl said, nodding. "Come on." He started walking toward the building - Glenn, Connie, and Dog following seconds later - and after a second of hesitation, Lydia and Henry did the same.
Henry sped up a bit, moving over slightly so that he was at Daryl's side. "I don't understand..." he said after a moment, looking between Daryl, Connie, and Glenn.
"Oh shit," Glenn turned, giving the blond a sheepish smile, "it's uh," he looked over at Daryl, "you want to explain it? I'm probably just going to mess it up and confuse them more."
Daryl rolled his eyes fondly, clearly having expected this. Briefly, Lydia wondered how long the two men have known each other. She didn't get the chance to wonder about it for long because then, Daryl started to speak: "They use walkers to protect themselves, right?" he looked over at Lydia as he said this part. "So we go up, where the walkers can't go. We separate the living from the dead." He pointed up at the building before letting his arm drop back down to his side, glancing back over at Lydia. "They travel in a herd, bu' there's only like, five or six of 'em in the middle, right?"
After a second, Lydia gave him a small nod of confirmation, but she couldn't help the flare of worry forming in her gut as she analyzed the plan in her head. It was a good plan, smart too. But there were many problems with it, ones that could end up costing someone here their life. Lydia didn't want that.
"Yeah, but if we go up there, we're trapped." She pulled to a halt, looking up at Daryl, who turned his body to face her. Around them, the others stopped too. "Alpha's not gonna send a whole army 'cause she doesn't have to... she'll send Beta." Even the mention of the large man sent a spike of fear down her spine, and she swallowed down the lump forming in her throat. Delta might not be scared of the man anymore, but Lydia had never been able to get over her own fear of him.
Daryl stared at her for a long moment, as if sensing her worry. He then grimaced, "I'm sick o' runnin. This Beta - he their best?" It didn't take a genius to understand why he was asking this. Lydia nodded again, her earlier worry becoming more violent as the seconds wore on. Daryl straightened up. "Good. We'll kill 'im first. C'mon."
With that, Daryl started walking again, and after a second, Henry, Connie, and Dog followed. Lydia watched them go, exhaling slowly and forcing herself to follow them. Glenn seemed to sense her hesitance, and he fell into step beside her, giving Lydia a kind smile.
"Hey, we're not going to let them get you. You know that, right? You're safe with us." Lydia crossed her arms and ducked her head, sighing heavily. She appreciated the man's assurances, but she knew perfectly well that they couldn't promise anything yet.
"Someone's going to die," she said quietly, and Glenn flinched back, looking surprised at her words, "if you keep underestimating my mother like this..." she shook her head, focusing her attention onto her feet.
"You don't know that," Glenn replied, but she could see the way his arms tightened around Hershel. He was unsettled. "We've dealt with a lot of people like your mother, ones who want to hurt us. It's nothing new. We know how to deal with people like her."
Lydia shook her head again, a sad smile forming on her lips. "No... no, you don't. You haven't met anyone like my mother."
She'll kill all of you if she gets the chance, and she won't hesitate.
After banging a rock a couple of times against the door of the old, abandoned building without hearing any of the telltale grunts, snarls, or moans of the dead, Daryl hefted up his crossbow and opened up the door, peering inside with wary eyes. It was too dark to see anything, so he pushed the door open the rest of the way, eyes darting around the room and giving a quick order for everyone to stay behind him. He didn't want anyone to get hurt if he ended up missing something.
Reaching out, Daryl banged his knuckles against the wall a couple of times, lifting up his crossbow once more. He doesn't hear anything, and he turned to the rest of the group, taking in Lydia and Henry's tired appearances, Connie's thoughtful expression, and Glenn's anxious eyes as his arms tightened around Hershel. He made a motion toward Glenn, and the other man's attention snapped onto him almost instantly.
"Do y'have any of those flashlights? Definitely gonna need 'em." Glenn blinked before turning over to Connie. Adjusting a still sleeping Hershel, he made a series of hand gestures toward her. He must have given Connie the flashlights, then.
Connie dug into the bag she was carrying, tossing one of the flashlights they had brought with them over to Daryl. He reached out an arm and caught it without much trouble, giving the woman a nod of thanks before turning back around and turning the flashlight on with a quiet clicking noise. Light immediately flooded the room, and behind him, he could hear Henry heaving a sigh of relief.
"Make sure you have a weapon with you," Daryl muttered as he began to walk through the building, "don't want'ta be taken by surprise if any walkers are lingering here." Or any of the living, his mind whispered. Daryl made sure to ignore that unwelcomed thought.
So, flashlight in one hand and his crossbow in the other, the small group made their way through the lower half of the building, keeping an eye out for anything that might help them or try to harm them. It seemed that the place was mostly untouched, however. There were no signs of walkers anywhere in the building. That was a good sign.
As they went further into the building, Connie made a beeline toward one of the stairwells and headed up without a single ounce of worry. With the way she acted, she obviously was somewhat familiar with the place. Daryl didn't bother heading after her as she disappeared from view. He knew that Connie could take care of herself. She'd probably end up getting annoyed if anyone tried insinuating otherwise.
The more he looked through the place, the more he began to realize that someone - someone living - had been in here before. It didn't take him long to figure out who. Daryl left Henry and Lydia in one of the rooms, ducking into yet another nearby room, his eyes darting around warily. Glenn was the only one with him at this point. Hershel too, but that kid was sleeping like a log. Hershel could fall asleep just about anywhere, no matter the situation; it was something that people always liked to joke about back at Hilltop.
"So, that's an interesting hat Lydia has," Glenn said conversationally, and Daryl turned, watching as Glenn approached, shutting the door behind him with a faint creaking noise that spoke of old age and misuse. "Wonder where her friend got it. It looks very familiar, you know. Kind of like the one Rick and Carl used to wear."
"Don't have'ta tell me this shit, I know." Daryl crossed his arms, glancing over to the door and thinking about the stairwell that Connie had disappeared into, wondering if maybe he could make a quick escape and avoid having this, no doubt, horribly awkward conversation for the time being. But he had a feeling that would not be the case. "And I'm assumin' you do too."
"That was Carl's hat." When Daryl remained quiet, Glenn continued on. "Daryl... Lydia is wearing Carl's hat. Carl, who we haven't seen since the prison. Rick's son, who we had thought had been dead for literal years!"
Daryl winced at the reminder, leaning against the wall as Glenn took another step forward. "I know..."
Glenn stared at him for a long few moments, absently running his fingers through Hershel's hair before sighing. Finally, after another few tense seconds, he asked the one question that Daryl had been dreading since he had first seen that hat on Lydia's head. "Delta, that was... Glenn trailed off, running a hand through his hair. "...he's Carl, isn't he?"
Daryl's silence held all the answers that Glenn needed. The other man let out a whoosh of air, eyes going wide in such a way that made it look as if he could hardly believe that his accusations were true. Which probably was what it was. Daryl would know. He felt the same way when he heard Carl tell Hershel his actual name, even when he already had suspicions about it - the whole thing just seemed so unbelievable. Still did, really.
Glenn shook his head rapidly, though the shell shocked expression remained on his face. "Fucking christ, man. How... how long have you known?"
Daryl sighed, forcing himself to meet Glenn's eyes. "Since the second day that he and Lydia had been at Hilltop," he admitted, "but he confirmed it right before that bitch came to our gates with Alden and Luke."
Daryl watched as the realization dawned in Glenn's eyes. "That's what you were talking about!" He said with a gasp. "Before I came into the room, that was..." Glenn trailed off, his face going slack suddenly. "Shit, does... does Rick know?"
Slowly, Daryl shook his head, already having prepared for the question. "Was goin' to talk to him later - an' by that I mean when I stop bein' a fuckin' coward and just go and talk to him. But then Hershel and Henry went missing and..." Daryl rubbed a hand over his face, sighing heavily. "It's stupid. It's his fucking son that I just found out is alive after nearly a decade. I should'a told him hours ago!"
"Well... let's be honest, the first thing Rick would have done is go after him and... well," Glenn scratched the back of his neck, exhaling slowly, and Daryl absently noted the red bite mark on Glenn's hand, the one that Carl had left behind. "I can't blame you, Daryl. I really can't. Having to tell someone something like that..." Glenn shook his head, sighing yet again. "Is that why you seemed so guilty after giving them back to Alpha?"
"Was part of it," Daryl mumbled, refusing to meet Glenn's gaze. Instead, he focused his attention on the rest of the room, taking in the broken furniture and dust coating the floor and walls. A part of him wondered how long this place had gone untouched for. Had to have been for years, maybe even since the very beginning of this undead shit.
"Rick needs to know..." Glenn said quietly, breaking Daryl away from his churning thoughts. "He's going to see that hat, Daryl. He's going to see it, and he's going to know. And when he realizes that you knew about this and didn't say anything, he's going to-"
"I know, alright?!" Daryl snapped, whipping his head around to glare at Glenn. "Fucking christ, I know. He's going to hate me for it. I figured out his son was alive and let him go back into danger where he could possibly die. Y'don't have to keep remindin' me of this shit because I already fucking know!"
"Daryl-" Glenn started, a look of guilt passing over his face, but Daryl cut him off, walking forward and shoving past him. He didn't want to hear any more of this - it would only make him feel like a piece of shit. Actually, scrap that; it would make him feel more like a piece of shit.
"I'm gonna go check on Connie," he muttered, keeping his eyes away from Glenn's face as he began moving out of the room, "we'll talk about this later."
"Wait!" Glenn spun around, grabbing Daryl by the arm. "Daryl, Rick could never hate you. You're his brother." At Daryl's look of doubt, Glenn sighed. "You remember the bridge, right? The explosion? The days after that, before Rick woke up?"
Daryl stiffened, "How could I forget?" He didn't think it was even possible to forget about that. The days following the bridge explosion had been a couple of the worst days in his entire life - even worse than the days before the world went to shit - and that was saying something because those days were pretty fucking bad.
Glenn gave him a sad smile but continued on regardless. "You gave Rick plenty of reason to be mad at you at the time. You argued with him, disobeyed his orders, planned against him, nearly got him killed, ended up literally scarring him for life..." Daryl scowled at the reminder, but Glenn didn't stop talking, "but he never blamed you for that. Never hated you for a single part of it."
"That's different," Daryl argued, shaking his head, "Rick's always been like that when it comes to shit like his own wellbeing - this is his son we're talking about, and you and I know better than anyone how much he cares about his kids - his family. When he learns that I kept this hidden from him and sent his kid who, he hasn't seen in literal fucking years, back into danger without trying to stop him..." Daryl paused, tearing his arm out of Glenn's grip and turning away, heart heavy. "We both know he ain't gonna forgive me for it anytime soon."
Maybe not ever.
Lydia slammed a hammer she found in the abandoned building down on a nail, embedding it deeper into the wooden board she had pinned to the window. She had little else to do - with Daryl and Glenn doing who knows what and with Connie being who knows where, she figured she might as well do her part and help secure this place for when Beta inevitably came for her. She doubted it would do much in the long run, but it was better than nothing, she supposed.
"Lydia," she turned at the sound of her name, watching as Henry approached. There was a stick of some kind in his hand, and Lydia's eyes fell to the sharpened tip, and then back to Henry's face. She put down the hammer, turning to face Henry as he pulled to a stop in front of her. Nervously, he started to speak.
"I, uh, found it in a coat closet," Henry explained sheepishly, holding up the stick for her to take, "sharpened the tip."
The gesture was a kind one, or at least, somewhat. Lydia took a few steps closer to Henry, eyes flitting between his face and the newly made spear. She reached out, her fingers closing around its base. The wood feels firm in her hands, and while she doubted the point would be able to do much damage to anything other than walkers, it felt nice to have a weapon again.
Then, she looked toward the other stick Henry held, looking it over with careful eyes, trying to see if there were any differences. While they both looked quite similar, there was one thing that she couldn't help but notice. "Yours doesn't have a point..." Lydia found herself saying suddenly, gesturing with her empty hand to Henry's weapon.
She could tell Henry was obviously taken aback by her question, but he ended up answering it nonetheless. "No, I don't need one," Henry said quickly, giving a small shrug of his shoulders as he continued on, "I just thought a spear would be easier for you."
The realization as to why Henry was giving her this spear washed over Lydia like a tidal wave. Lydia looked between Henry and the spear in her hand, swallowing down the lump that had started forming in her throat, "easier to kill, you mean?" The look on Henry's face said enough to Lydia.
Lydia wasn't unfamiliar with the concept of killing people. She was used to it at this point. She had seen her mother, Beta, Delta, and many others kill countless amounts of people. She had done it herself quite often as well. A lot of the men in the Whisperers were unwilling to keep their hands to themselves, and seeing as Delta was the only one willing to stop them from hurting her whenever they tried, Lydia had to learn to defend herself quickly. At this point, it was rare that one of the men would try something, but she hated having to kill them every time they grabbed her.
Not that they didn't deserve it, she just hated having to take people's lives. Delta didn't appear to have the same problem, though. Nor did anyone else in the Whisperers. And Lydia had seen what had happened to the women who weren't able to defend themselves from those kinds of men - it scared her to know that she would have been in their place if Delta hadn't been so insistent on following her around so much, if he hadn't been there the first time one of them tried.
Lydia let out a heavy sigh, shaking the unwelcomed thoughts from her head. "These are my people. They've looked out for me for most of my life." Honestly, that was mostly Delta, but Henry didn't need to know that. "What if Delta is there, Henry? He'll have to try and attack me if he wants Alpha to trust him," the mere thought of that happening scared her, and she started shaking her head, hating the way her voice wobbled as she continued speaking, "I just... Sorry. I can't - I can't do it."
Henry's face softened slightly, "no, it's okay. Then don't," he gave her a nervous smile, the words pouring out quickly as he reached out, taking the spear from Lydia's hands. He turned around, walking toward a nearby pillar and resting the spear against it. Lydia watched as he did this, adjusting Delta's hat, which had fallen in her face while she and Henry were talking - a little too big for her head.
"Will you?" It took her a moment to realize what she said. And even then, she's not entirely sure why she's asking. If Henry got attacked when Alpha's search party came, then obviously he would be aiming to kill the person who would be attacking him. It was just plain common sense at this point - if Lydia was being attacked, then she wouldn't want the person attacking her to remain alive.
It took Henry a couple of seconds to respond. He seemed to be mulling it over in his head, his eyes not straying from hers - not even for a second. "I'll try not to," he said finally, and at Lydia's unsure look added, "I promise."
He turned away, focusing his attention to a nearby desk that was balanced onto its side. Making sure not to hurt himself, he pushed it slightly, careful not to let it fall as he set it right. It made a loud creaking noise followed by a weak thud, and Lydia shifted uncertainly at the noise, watching as Henry picked a nearby chair - one with wheels - up off of the ground. "Why are you doing this?"
Henry turned to look at her, his hands dropping away from the chair he had placed on top of the metal desk, "You didn't want to go back, did you?" He asked after a moment, looking confused. Lydia tried not to feel frustrated at this, but she couldn't help it. Henry risked his life for her, as well as Hershel's, and she wanted to know why.
"No, but that - that's no reason for you to risk your life for me," Lydia insisted, crossing her arms, "you could have died, Henry - you almost did. I just... I want to know why."
"Lydia, you're my friend. Friends help each other, and that includes risking their lives for each other," Henry said, his voice quiet, "I mean, I just wasn't gonna let them take you if you didn't want to go," he paused, shifting slightly, "it was the right thing to do. I just... I just wish I didn't get Hershel dragged into this too."
"Exactly, it was a stupid thing to do," Lydia snapped, letting her frustration get the best of her, "you nearly got yourself and Hershel killed. You made my mother look weak. She won't let this go. She can't." Lydia shook her head, violently combing her fingers through her matted hair - a habit she picked up from Delta sometime over the past couple of years.
Henry was quiet for a few seconds, clearly mulling something over in his head. "Then we'll run," at Lydia's confused look, he explained, "I've been thinking about it since last night. We could run away, just the two of us. We can go far away, someplace where your mom wouldn't be able to find us, and they can't even blame Hilltop if we just disappear."
Lydia stared at him, hardly able to believe what he was saying. While the idea of getting away from Alpha was tempting, she knew all too well how stubborn Alpha could be - there would be no way that they would be able to lose her trail. And there was no way that Lydia would be willing to leave Delta. He was her best friend, and Lydia wasn't just about to abandon him like that.
"Run?!" She hissed out after breaking away from her thoughts, narrowing her eyes and staring over at Henry with thinly-veiled disbelief, "are you crazy? There's no place we can go where she won't find us." She let a hint of her own desperation seep into her tone, trying to make Henry realize just how stupid that idea was. How it would only get them killed - or worse.
Henry, however, was insistent. "Come on, sure there is." He took a step forward, his voice growing more confident with every word. "Lydia... there's a whole world out there." For a moment, Lydia found herself believing his words. That she could really break away from Alpha's controlling grasp, that she could live her own life after so long of just following her mother's lead. But then reality came crashing back down, and she shook her head.
"I can't leave Delta, Henry..." Lydia said softly, "he's my best friend. My first friend. I can't... he's been by my side for so long, he's..." She trailed off, an image of Delta drifting into her mind - of his dark brown hair and a deep blue gaze that Lydia often found herself lost in. He had always felt warm and familiar - secure and safe, even when they first met, he was so much kinder than anyone else had been in a long time. And back at that clearing, when he had been telling her to go, all she wanted to do was cling to him, bury her face into the curve of his neck, and never let go.
She knew that she would never be able to leave him. He meant too much to her.
Henry didn't look surprised by this response, "I won't lie to you, Lydia. I don't really know Delta at all - but I'm pretty sure that he would want you to be safe. Even if that means being halfway across the country from him - and honestly, I have a feeling he would feed me and everyone else in this building to the walkers if it meant he could stay with you," Lydia couldn't help but snort at this, knowing just how true it was. But then, she found herself frowning again - this time at Henry's use of the word 'walkers.' It was a term that Delta also used to describe the dead.
She knew it could probably be a coincidence - people called the guardians many things, so of course the terms are going to spread. But Lydia had a feeling - albeit a small one - that the simple spread of terms wasn't the case here. Things just weren't adding up here, and Lydia wanted to know why. But she had a more pressing question bouncing around in the back of her mind, one that could be answered right now.
"Why did you come for me?" Lydia demanded, her voice barely rising above a whisper. She took a step closer to Henry till their faces were only a few inches away from each other. "For real this time. Tell me why."
"Because," Henry said, his voice nearing the same level as her own, "I care about you."
Before Lydia even realized what she was doing, she stepped even closer to Henry, gently placing her hands on both sides of Henry's jaw and slowly leaning forward, kissing him. Henry inhaled sharply, obviously taken by surprise, but returned the kiss eagerly. His lips were soft, surprisingly so, but before she could really notice anything else, a voice sounded from the doorway.
"Hey," Lydia jumped back, her head whipping around to find the source of the voice. Daryl stood in the doorway, watching the two of them through narrowed eyes. "come on, we're headed up to keep watch."
Lydia's face went red, and after a quick glance toward Henry, she saw his was too. "Yeah. Sure," Henry said hurriedly, grabbing his stick and starting toward the archer. After a moment's hesitation, Lydia followed him, her thoughts drifting back to the kiss she and Henry had shared moments before.
It had felt nice. But no matter how nice the kiss may or may not have been, Lydia found her thoughts wandering back to Delta - to his dark hair, blue eyes, the faint freckles that dusted his nose... Back to the way he would comfort her when she was upset, to the way he would jump in to take any punishment that her mother directed her way, to the sarcastic quips that he often muttered under his breath when no one else was around but Lydia.
She wondered if his lips were soft too.
Birds were chirping somewhere in the distance, and Lydia found herself envious of their carefree nature - how they lived their lives as they had before, as if the dead hadn't come back to life at all. But they were animals, and animals adapt. Much better than Lydia ever could - much better than any human ever could.
Lydia watched as a cluster of crows hopped around on the ground, nipping at the supposed bugs on the cracked pavement and even each other occasionally if one got too close. One of them neared a guardian corpse lying dead on the ground, beginning to peck at the thing's rotted skin. Lydia tore her eyes away from the scene, letting them wander up to the treetops that surrounded the large building. Another thing about animals - they could eat almost anything, no matter how gross it may or may not be.
The world was surprisingly peaceful for the time being, Lydia found herself noticing, but she already knew that it wouldn't be staying that way for long. Once Beta came, it would be back to total chaos. It always did when it came to him.
The faint tapping of fingers against metal caught her attention, and Lydia spared a quick glance over her shoulder, her eyes finding Henry's from where he was stationed on the other side of the balcony the two of them now stood on. Upon realizing she was looking at him, he gave Lydia a small smile, and Lydia couldn't help but return the gesture - her mind wandering back to the kiss they shared a few hours before.
Henry's smile turned wider, and he shifted, returning his gaze back out to the area surrounding the building, trying to keep watch as Glenn said they should. After a few seconds, he glanced back up at Lydia again before quickly returning his eyes back over to the road below. Lydia let herself do the same, wanting to do her best to help out, but then her eyes landed on something in the distance, and the smile fell from her face in a matter of seconds.
Guardians were beginning to stumble out from the trees, their low growls filling the otherwise silent world. At first glance, she could only see the guardians, but it didn't take her long at all to spot a Whisperer walking among them. "There!" She hissed out, immediately catching Henry's attention. He was at her side in seconds, peering over her shoulder to get a closer look at the group of guardians - more of which were stumbling out by the second.
One... two... Lydia's eyes darted around the group, trying to figure out how many Whisperer's her mother had sent after her. She prayed with every fiber of her being that Delta wasn't there, but from this angle, it was hard to tell who was who. Her heart froze as her gaze finally settled on the largest of them all, a black trench coat draped over his shoulders like a cape.
"They're coming," she whispered.