The Crossroads

by Carrot Top

Jenna Matthews lost everything and everyone to the apocalypse. Alone and with nowhere else to go, she kept pushing for Fort Benning, hoping her brother would still be alive and be waiting for her there. But when a twist of fate lands her in a new group, she finds herself on an entirely new journey full of all kinds of unexpected twists and turns. - Currently in Season 3 -

59. Chapter 59

Hi! Remember me?

Yes, I'm still here, and yes, I'm okay! I know it's been a really, really long time. Shortly after I updated last, I found out I was pregnant, and now I have a sweet, adorable, super active nine month old. He takes up a lot of my time, needless to say, and finding time to write is difficult. I will also admit that I lost the spark for this story, but it's just so close to being finished, and I really want to complete it for y'all, so I'm gonna do my best to get this thing done.

Thank you for your support, for all your kind words, and thank you for being patient with me. We're almost to the end of our journey here, so I hope you'll stay with me just a little bit longer!

Enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to the Walking Dead, only the OC's.

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Chapter 59

Jenna found herself sitting on the catwalk outside the cell block that night, her back leaning against the metal tables and wooden pallets that Carol and Axel had set up for protection before the Governor had attacked the prison. Her eyes were turned up to the stars, the fingers of her left hand absentmindedly turning her mother's wedding ring round and around on her right ring finger.

She couldn't sleep, because she couldn't turn her brain off. All evening long she had been thinking about Andrea, the Governor, Sam's group…but more than anything, she had been thinking about the offer Rick had made her earlier that night.

Truth be told, she was still having a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that he wanted her to be his second-in-command.

As flattering and humbling as it was to know that Rick thought so highly of her, and that he trusted her so completely, she was still unconvinced that she was the right person for the job. A leadership position was something she had never considered taking on, had never even been on her radar as a possibility. If she said yes and then ended up failing miserably at the job, she would be letting a lot of people down, which she didn't want to do. Then again, if she said no, she had a feeling she'd be letting Rick down, and since it was obvious that he depended on her more than she had realized, she didn't want to do that either.

So what was she supposed to do?

Jenna sighed heavily, her brows pinching together fretfully. She had been thinking about it all night, and she felt no closer to a decision now than she had when Rick had first offered the position to her.

The sound of the door to her left opening made her quickly look that way, her shoulders tensing at the unexpected arrival of another person. When she saw that it was Daryl, her shoulders relaxed again. He had taken the first shift on watch with Merle after everyone had gone to bed, so if he was there now, his shift must have been over. Daryl closed the door behind him, then came to join her.

"I been lookin' all over for you," he said. "What're you doin' out here?"

"Couldn't sleep," Jenna told him. "Got too much on my mind."

Daryl nodded, then eased down next to her, setting his crossbow down on his other side. He was sitting close enough that his elbow and knee touched her own.

"What's on your mind, red?" he asked.

"Andrea…and Rick," she said, drawing one knee up so that she could rest her arm on top of it.

Daryl didn't say anything, just gave her an expectant look as he waited for her to elaborate. She decided to start with Andrea's plans for peace negotiations.

"Andrea's convinced that Rick and the Governor can work out some kind of peace treaty," she said. "She told me she would talk to the Governor, try to make him agree to meet with Rick and talk things through. She asked me to do the same thing with Rick." Jenna paused, then nodded her head. "I told her I'd try."

Daryl lifted a brow. "What'd Rick say when you brought it up?"

Jenna sighed and shrugged. "He wasn't thrilled. But…he said he'd think about it."

Daryl nodded slowly, his eyes turning elsewhere. Jenna glanced over at him, but it was hard to tell what he thought of this new development. She knew that Daryl hated the Governor, knew that he wanted payback for what the Governor had done to their friends and done to him when he'd been captured in Woodbury. Was he angry that he might not get his chance for revenge? Did he, like Rick, see this as them rolling over and giving up? Did he think she and Andrea were fools for even trying to bring all of this to a peaceful resolution?

"What are you thinking?" she finally asked.

Daryl looked at her, then heaved through his nose. "I think that asshole wouldn't know what peace was even if it came up 'ta him buck naked an' slapped him across the face," he answered bluntly. "Bullets an' bloodshed is what he knows. I don't think none of us are gonna be safe again 'til he's six feet in the ground, where he belongs," Daryl added with a distinct note of hatred in his voice.

Jenna sighed at those words, because if she were to be honest, she didn't disagree with him. "Maybe you're right," she admitted quietly. "But say you're wrong, and say there is a chance that we can work something out," she continued. "I hate the Governor for what he did, and I want him gone, too. But if it comes down to getting revenge or doing right by the people I love, I'm gonna choose the people I love every single time," she said matter-of-factly. "I don't wanna lose this prison just because we were too proud to negotiate. I don't wanna watch everyone I love die because we couldn't even try to put our differences aside."

"You think we ain't strong enough to take down the Governor if it came down to a fight?" Daryl asked, almost sounding a little defensive.

Jenna gave him a look. "I think the odds are stacked pretty high against us," she said pointedly. "As strong as we are, he still has more people and more weapons. I honestly don't know if we would win in a fight against him, which is why I told Andrea I would help her. If trying for peace saves your life, Sam's life, Chloe's life…if it means our friends don't suffer, then that's a chance I'm willing to take," she said with a firm nod.

Daryl looked at her for a long moment, and slowly but surely, the hard expression on his face melted into one of understanding. "S'pose you're right," he admitted, nodding slowly. "I'd still rather see that asshole dead, though," he made sure to clarify.

Jenna leaned her head back against the metal table behind her and let out a sigh. She and Daryl could debate whether or not this was their best course of action until they were blue in the face, but none of it would even matter if Andrea couldn't hold up her end of the deal.

"Who knows if this negotiation will even happen," she huffed. "He might not even agree to meet with Rick."

Daryl shrugged a shoulder. "Guess we just have 'ta see what happens," he said.

Jenna nodded in agreement.

Silence fell between them for a few moments. Jenna looked up to the stars, which twinkled brightly in the cloudless sky overhead, while Daryl seemed content to wait for her to break the silence. She kept her eyes on the stars, that same, nervous feeling from earlier returning as her thoughts turned back to the offer Rick had made earlier that evening.

"Rick asked me to be his second-in-command tonight," she revealed quietly, which made Daryl turn a quick look on her. Jenna finally looked away from the stars to meet his gaze. "He wants me to take over the group if anything ever happens to him."

"What'd you tell him?" Daryl asked.

Jenna shrugged. "I told him I needed to think about it."

Daryl looked at her for a moment, then he nodded in what seemed like approval. "He made the right choice, askin' you," he said.

Jenna smiled wryly. "You're just saying that because you're my boyfriend," she countered.

"No, I ain't," Daryl rebutted swiftly, which made her press her lips together. "I'm sayin' it because it's true."

Jenna could tell Daryl meant what he had said, but while she appreciated his confidence in her, she still had some doubts. "I've never thought of myself as a leader. Looking after things for a few hours while Rick's gone? I can do that. But leading permanently? Making the hard decisions? Being responsible for all those people?" Jenna shook her head. "I don't know that I'm strong enough for that."

Daryl huffed in response. "Well now you're just talkin' outta your ass."

Jenna frowned at the comment. "I'm being serious, Daryl."

"So am I," he countered. "I've watched you face off against countless walkers without even battin' an eye. I've watched you put yourself at risk over an' over to help people in the group an' make sure they're protected. You stand up for what's right, you don't take shit from anyone, an' you always put everyone else before you," he listed off. "If that don't make ya qualified 'ta lead, I don't know what does."

"I also abandoned the group to look for Sam, and then I was completely out of it for weeks after that Greenville incident," Jenna reminded. "Leaders have to be strong no matter what, and I wasn't that. I was weak."

"You're human," Daryl countered swiftly. "You ain't gonna be perfect all the time. Hell, Rick sure ain't been perfect. He stepped on a lot of toes with the way he was after that Shane shit, and he's definitely been a card short of a full deck since Lori died. The way he's been now ain't no different from how you were after Greenville."

He made a good point, Jenna supposed. She sighed as she thought that one over, then slowly shook her head. "I guess I'm just scared," she confessed. "If something happened to Rick, if I did have to take over…I'm afraid I'd just screw it up."

"Ya prob'ly will screw up from time 'ta time," Daryl said, which made her frown at him. "But that's life. Everyone screws up at some point or another," he added with a shrug. "Ya just gotta learn from your mistakes an' move on."

Jenna lifted a brow and smirked at him. "You know, you're a hell of a lot wiser than you like to let on," she said, even though she had known for a long time that Daryl was way smarter than people gave him credit for.

Daryl shrugged. "Keeps people from buggin' me too much," he excused, which made her snort with amusement. "So when are you s'posed to give him an answer?" he asked to steer the conversation back to the topic at hand.

Jenna shrugged. "The sooner the better. But I just don't know, babe," she said, rubbing her eyes wearily.
"I don't know what the right choice is."

Daryl gave her a look. "Who you tryin' to fool here, red? We both know you ain't gonna say no," he stated matter-of-factly.

Jenna raised her brows. "What makes you so sure?"

Daryl snorted. "When have you ever turned Rick down when he needed your help with somethin'?" he asked. Jenna thought about it, but couldn't think of a single time that she had refused him. "Besides, you care about the group too much 'ta say no," he added with a nod.

Once again, Daryl was right. If the day came where the group needed her to step up, she knew she wouldn't be able to deny them. Did that make the whole thing any less daunting? Hell no. But if her friends – no, her family – needed her, she would do what she could to help them. Even if that meant going completely out of her comfort zone and stepping into Rick Grimes' boots.

Jenna pursed her lips, then looked at Daryl, watching him closely. "You think I should accept, then?"

"It ain't my choice to make," Daryl responded.

"We're a team," Jenna reminded him. "Your opinion matters. So tell me honestly – do you think I should accept?"

Daryl paused for only a beat, then nodded. "Yeah, I do."

Jenna nodded slowly, then looked at him and reached for his hand, lacing her fingers with his. "If I do this, and if the day comes where I do have to lead…I can't do it like him. I'm not trying to carry on the legacy of the Ricktatorship. I'll need some back up, someone to make sure I stay on the right track," she said, giving him an earnest look.

Daryl seemed to understand what she was silently asking. "I got your back," he said, giving her hand a little squeeze. "I always got your back."

Jenna instantly felt a weight lift off her shoulders. Though he wasn't normally a man of many words, Daryl seemed to always know exactly what to say to make her feel better. As intimidating as this whole situation was, knowing that Daryl believed in her so much and that he would be there to help her and support her, made the whole thing seem just a little bit less scary.

"Alright then," she finally said. "I'll tell him tomorrow morning that I accept."

Daryl nodded in approval. "Good."

Jenna smiled, then leaned over to press a lingering kiss to his lips, one hand lifting to rest on the side of his neck. She pulled away just far enough to be able to look into his eyes, her heart swelling with love for him. "Thank you," she said gratefully.

"For what?" Daryl asked.

"For making me feel better. For listening. For everything," Jenna said. "I'd be a mess without you, you know that?"

Daryl shrugged modestly. "I think you'd be alright."

Jenna shook her head. "No. I wouldn't," she insisted. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again – you're my rock, Dixon."

Daryl actually smiled a bit at that, and it was such a rare sight to see him smile that it instantly warmed her heart. She kissed him once more, then rested her head on his shoulder, smiling to herself when she felt him kiss the top of her head.

There was a beat of silence, then Daryl cleared his throat. "Jenna?" he said quietly.

Jenna lifted her head to look at him. "Yeah?"

He didn't say anything at first, and suddenly he seemed really nervous about something. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, his eyes searching hers intently. What was on his mind? And why was he looking at her like that?

Whatever he had been about to say, he seemed to decide against it. "We should head inside an' get some sleep," he suggested quietly, nodding to the door that led back to the block. "It's gettin' late."

Jenna frowned a little, but nodded in agreement. Daryl stood and helped her to her feet, then grabbed his crossbow and started toward the door. Jenna followed him back to their cell, where they took off their weapons, kicked off their shoes, and got settled in bed as quietly as they could, so as to not disturb Chloe.

Though Jenna was very curious to know what Daryl had been about to say to her outside, she knew better than to pry. This was not the first time he had shied away from saying something to her that seemed important, and whenever he had done this in the past, whatever he had been holding back almost always came out eventually.

If what Daryl wanted to say was important enough, he would tell her eventually, when he felt comfortable enough to do it. So, without saying anything more on the matter, she kissed Daryl goodnight and went to sleep.

---

Jenna did not immediately seek out Rick when she woke up the next morning. She was a little nervous to tell him her decision, simply because she had a feeling he'd announce it to the group once she did, and she was actually more nervous for them to know of her soon to be appointed title. It was hard to say how the group would react to the news, and not knowing whether everyone would approve was making her more than a little anxious.

Instead of going downstairs after she woke up, she went next door to her brother's cell when she heard a familiar sound of static echoing off the cement walls. Sure enough, she found him hunched over the walkie talkie like his life depended on it, his brows furrowed and eyes focused as he fiddled with the device.

Sam looked up when Jenna walked in, having been so intent on the walkie that her sudden appearance seemed to startle him. "You're up early," he commented.

"So are you," she pointed out.

"Couldn't really sleep," Sam said with a shrug.

"Yeah, me neither," Jenna admitted. She crossed her arms and leaned against the bars of his cell. "Hear anything yet?" she asked curiously.

Sam sighed and shook his head, his expression caught between disappointed and worried. "No."

Jenna pursed her lips, then gave him an encouraging nod. "I'm sure they'll reach out. They're probably just being cautious so the Governor doesn't figure out who they're trying to talk to," she said. "Give it time. You'll hear from them."

Sam nodded, and though he didn't turn off the walkie talkie, he did finally set it down. He rubbed a hand over his face, then gave her a questioning look. "Why couldn't you sleep?" he asked.

"Had a lot on my mind," Jenna said. She glanced behind her to make sure nobody else was around, then stepped a little further into his cell. "Actually, there's something I wanted to tell you about. Something I'd rather you heard from me first," she said.

Sam frowned a little and sat straighter. "What's going on?"

"Rick asked me to be his second-in-command last night," Jenna revealed, dropping her voice so as not to be overheard. "I'm gonna tell him yes."

Sam didn't look very surprised by the news. In fact, he lifted a brow at her and seemed like he was a bit confused. "I thought you were his second already," he said. "You've practically been the one running things around here since I turned up."

Jenna shrugged. "Maybe he saw me as his second for a while, but now it's gonna be official." She paused and chewed on her lip unsurely. "You think I'm right for the job?" she asked, looking for more encouragement even though she'd gotten plenty of it from Daryl the night before.

"Of course you are," Sam said without hesitation. "I've told you a dozen times – you're stronger than you think you are, Jen," he added with a meaningful look. "You can handle it. I'm sure of it."

Jenna nodded, unable to help feeling even better about the whole thing now that she had the approval of her big brother. Not that she had really thought he would disapprove – he had always supported her decisions, so long as they were good ones. "Well, I hope the rest of the group sees things the way you do."

Sam huffed. "I don't think that'll be a problem. Those people love you, sis."

That made Jenna smile wider. "I love them, too. And that's why I'm going through with it. If it means helping or protecting them, I'll do it," she said with a firm nod.

"And that is why you're the right person for the job," Sam countered with a knowing smile.

Before they could discuss the matter further, Chloe appeared in the doorway. Jenna and Sam stopped talking, which made her look back and forth between them curiously. "What's going on?" she asked.

Jenna smiled and shook her head. "Nothing. We're just talking," she said, before running an affectionate hand over Chloe's dark hair. "Did you need something?"

Chloe still seemed curious, but didn't pry any further. "Daryl sent me to make sure you were up. He wants you to come down and get some breakfast," she answered.

Of course Daryl sent Chloe to get her. He knew how nervous she was to tell Rick her decision and was probably trying to make sure she wasn't hiding somewhere to stall for time…which, of course, was exactly what she was currently doing.

The man knew her way too well.

"Well, we don't wanna keep him waiting, do we?" Jenna said, knowing if she took too much longer to appear that he'd come looking for her himself. "C'mon, Sam. Let's eat," she said to her brother, motioning for him to come with them.

She put a hand on Chloe's shoulder, and after Sam grabbed the walkie talkie – she suspected he was going to have it with him everywhere he went – the three of them headed downstairs to the common area to join the group. Everyone else was already awake and mostly accounted for, except for Rick, Glenn, and Michonne. Jenna greeted her friends, ignored Merle, grabbed herself a plate, then went to the table that Daryl and Carol were occupying.

"Morning," she said as she, Chloe, and Sam joined them. After they returned the sentiments, Jenna glanced around curiously before fixing her gaze on Daryl. "Where are Rick and Glenn?"

"Rick's out loading some stuff into the Tucson for the run today," Daryl answered. "Glenn's on watch with Michonne."

Jenna perked an eyebrow at that. "Michonne volunteered for watch duty?"

"I think she just wanted to get away from Merle," Carol offered with a shrug.

Sam immediately snorted. "Can't say I blame her," he said, shooting a nasty look in Merle's direction. The man was eating by himself in the space he'd made his temporary bed, and he didn't seem to notice the sour look being sent his way.

Daryl looked at Sam, and while he didn't seem overly happy about the comments about his brother, he didn't say anything about it, either. Jenna, sensing his defensiveness, thought it would be a good idea to steer the conversation away from Merle. "I guess it's good Michonne wants to help out," she said. "Is she cool with going on the run today?"

Daryl shrugged a shoulder. "She didn't seem excited about it, but she didn't say no, neither," he said.

Considering she'd never seen Michonne really show any emotion to begin with, she seriously questioned whether it was possible for Michonne to get excited about anything. "Probably as good as we're gonna get with her," Jenna reasoned.

"Prob'ly," Daryl agreed.

She finally dug into the bland oatmeal that had been made for breakfast. Jenna half listened as Chloe, Sam, and Carol fell into casual conversation around her, but she was too distracted to really contribute. She kept fiddling with her spoon and eyeing the door, just waiting for Rick to come back inside and knowing that once he did, it would be time to give him her answer.

The door finally creaked open a short while later. When Rick came back inside, his eyes immediately found hers, which had Jenna sitting a little straighter. He held her gaze for a second, then looked away as he went over to the serving area to get himself breakfast.

Jenna didn't go to Rick straight away, choosing instead to give him some time to eat his food. Once it looked like he was finishing up, she shared a look with Daryl. After he gave her a subtle, encouraging nod, she finally got up and went over to the table Rick was sharing with T-Dog and Carl.

Rick looked up as she approached, which had her giving a small greeting smile. "Hey," she said. "Can I steal you for a second?"

"Sure," Rick said with a nod.

He shoved his last two bites of food into his mouth, then stood from the table. After he deposited his dish by the wash buckets, he led Jenna back to the cells, so that they could talk in private. Jenna glanced back at Daryl one last time, giving him a slightly nervous smile, before facing forward again as she followed Rick.

They went to the stairwell, where they were well out of hearing range of the others. Rick faced her with his hands on his hips, his expression curious and, if she wasn't mistaken, a little bit hopeful.

"What's up?" he asked.

Jenna didn't see any point in beating around the bush. "I'll do it," she stated bluntly, giving him a firm nod. "I'll be your number two."

Rick blinked, then smiled, looking enormously relieved. It was the first time she could remember seeing him smile in a long time. "Thank God," he said, his shoulders relaxing. "I was worried ya might say no."

"It crossed my mind," Jenna told him honestly. "But I wanna help the group. And, unfortunately, I don't really know how to say no to you, Grimes," she admitted with a helpless shrug. "I'm still scared shitless, but…I'm ready to face the challenge."

Rick placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze. "I knew I could count on you, Jenna," he said with a nod. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said. Jenna then crossed her arms over her chest and leveled him with a serious look. "Now, onto my first order of business – where are you on the whole negotiating with the Governor situation?"

Rick looked as though he had been hoping she wouldn't nag him about the Governor so quickly. "You don't waste time, do ya?" he asked with a sigh.

"Not when there's no time to be wasted," Jenna pointed out.

Rick looked at her for a moment, then shrugged. "I'm still thinkin' about it," he told her.

Jenna had hoped he'd have an answer for her, and was a little disappointed he didn't. She didn't want to press the issue too hard, though, afraid that if she pestered him about it too much that he'd just get annoyed and call the whole thing off. There was still time to think things through – better to just give him his space for now.

"Okay," Jenna said. Rick looked relieved that she wasn't pushing him about it any further. "Well, whether negotiations happen or not, there has been a development that could work in our favor."

Rick's expression turned to one of interest. "And what's that?"

"Sam's group is in Woodbury," she revealed, which made him blink in surprise. "Before Andrea came to the prison, she ran into Sam's friends trying to find shelter and sent them to Woodbury. It took some convincing, but Andrea agreed to help them get into contact with Sam," she explained. "I was thinking that maybe we can smooth over what happened here before they left – "or rather, before Rick had kicked them out, " – then try to convince them to be our eyes and ears in there. If they can help us stay one step ahead of the Governor, then hopefully we won't get surprised by his goons like we did the other day."

Rick looked hopeful now. "Have they reached out yet?"

Jenna shook her head. "No, but I'm sure they will. Sam's practically glued to the walkie. If they try to make contact, we'll catch it."

"That's good news," Rick said, sounding encouraged. "Let's hope they cooperate...though I wouldn't blame them for not wanting 'ta help, considering how I treated them," he added with a slight cringe.

She could see the regret in his eyes, which made her give him a frown of sympathy. "You had just lost your wife, Rick," Jenna said gently. "It wasn't anything personal. I'm sure they'll understand that you were going through a rough time."

"And if they don't understand?" Rick countered.

"Then I'll make them," Jenna replied with a firm nod. They needed allies they could trust, and she had let Sam's friends slip away once – she wasn't about to let that happen again. The group needed them.

Rick just gave a nod in return.

Jenna looked at him for a moment, her thoughts on Lori now. She reached out to touch Rick's arm, her expression careful as she breached a topic that she knew would be sensitive for him. "How are you, Rick?" she asked gently, her tone leaving no question as to what she was asking about.

Rick pursed his lips, his eyes turning elsewhere. "I've been better," he admitted quietly. "I…I can't stop thinking about her. I feel like…" He paused and swallowed audibly. "I feel like she isn't really gone yet. Like she's still here."

Jenna nodded in understanding, her heart clenching at his admission. "I know what you mean. I keep expecting her to walk through the front door with a basket of laundry, or to come waltzing into my cell to make sure I'm eating enough," she said with a small, fond smile.

Rick turned his eyes back to her, his expression difficult to read. "That ain't what I meant," he said cryptically, which made her frown unsurely. "I…I still see her, Jenna," he confessed. "Out in the field. Out in the forest. In the cell block. That's why I lost it when Sam's group was here. Because I saw Lori." Rick heaved loudly and reached a hand up to rub his face roughly, before letting his hand drop and shrugging his shoulders, his lips pulling into a cynical smile. "I don't know what's goin' on. I feel like I'm losin' my damned mind," he said, sounding completely and utterly exhausted.

Jenna wasn't sure what to say in response to that. After all, it wasn't every day that someone admitted to seeing hallucinations of their dead wife. His confession certainly explained some of his odder than usual behavior, however, and gave her a clearer picture as to what exactly it was that he was going through.

She finally sighed and gave his arm a comforting squeeze. "You're not losing your mind. Grief just does really weird things to people," she said with a small shrug.

"It ain't just grief," Rick said, remorse quickly filling his eyes. "I have so much regret, Jenna," he said with a deep frown. "You warned me not to let that shit with us keep draggin' on, you told me to talk things out with her before it was too late, and I didn't listen. And now she's dead, an' I can't say any of the things I wanted 'ta say to her. I can't tell her how I feel. Can't make things right." There was pain in his expression now, as well as a large dose of self-loathing. "My wife died believing I hated her."

Jenna was speechless. Part of her wanted to tell Rick that he was wrong, that Lori had known somewhere deep down that Rick had still loved her. But she couldn't get those words out, because she honestly didn't know if that was true or not. Lori had told her on multiple occasions that she thought Rick hated her, and considering the way Rick had treated her, Jenna could understand why she had believed that. As much as she wanted to comfort her friend and try to ease some of his guilt, Jenna didn't want to lie to him, either. The only thing she could really do now was be a shoulder for him to lean on until he recovered from his wife's untimely death.

Jenna finally sighed and pulled Rick in for a hug. He automatically returned the embrace, his arms holding her tightly, as if she was an anchor keeping him stable. "I'm sorry, Rick. This is hard, I know. And it'll probably be hard for a while. Just know that you're not alone. You've got me, Carl, and a slew of other people to lean on for support. Okay?"

Rick just nodded in response.

After a few moments, they finally separated, and while Rick looked a little emotional at first, he quickly pulled himself together. "Sorry. I didn't mean to unload all that on ya," he apologized, looking vulnerable and uncomfortable.

Jenna offered a smile. "That's what I'm here for," she reassured.

"I don't think bein' my therapist falls under your duties as second-in-command," he countered.

"No," Jenna agreed. "But it does fall under my duties as your friend."

Rick finally smiled at that, and even though the smile didn't reach his eyes, Jenna was glad to see it nonetheless. "Thanks, Matthews."

"You're welcome, Do-Right."

Rick took a deep breath, then finally glanced toward the common area, where they could hear the rest of the group moving around as they finished up breakfast and started preparing to get the day started. When he looked back to her, she knew exactly what was going through his mind.

"We'll be headin' out on that run soon," he said. "I'd like to tell the rest of the group about your new position before we go, if that's alright with you."

Jenna felt another flash of nervousness, but nodded regardless. "Alright."

Rick seemed to sense her anxiousness, because he gave her an encouraging look and patted her on the shoulder. "There's nothing 'ta worry about. Nobody in that room will oppose this. I'm sure of it."

Jenna glanced toward the common area. "Only one way to find out if that's true or not," she said, before looking at him and jerking her head toward the door. "Let's go before I have a chance to overanalyze it any more than I already have."

Rick nodded, patted her on the back, then started toward the common area with determined steps. Jenna lingered one more moment to suck in a steadying breath and lift her chin a little higher, then followed him.

---

For the first time in a very long time, Sasha slept well past sunrise.

When she woke up in the tiny apartment that Milton had shown them to the previous afternoon, she was groggy and disoriented from sleeping so long, and it took her a few minutes to remember where she actually was. Eventually, though, the fog of sleep cleared and she realized what had woken her up in the first place.

Was that…bacon she smelled?

Sasha got up from the cot she'd been sleeping on and left the small bedroom she was sharing with Tyreese. The moment she opened the bedroom door, she knew she wasn't hallucinating. That was bacon she was smelling. With her nose turned up into the air like a hound dog, she followed the scent to the small kitchen, where Tyreese and Ben were helping themselves to eggs, fresh bread, juice, and, yes¸ bacon.

Sasha stared at the meat sizzling away in the pan on the stove with wide eyes until Tyreese finally noticed her standing there. "Morning, sis," he greeted with a smile.

Sasha blinked and looked at her brother, before turning another gobsmacked looked toward the bacon he was cooking. "I've died and gone to heaven, haven't I?" she asked dumbly.

Tyreese chuckled and shook his head. "Not yet," he said. "Special delivery from the Governor. Guess they slaughtered some pigs recently. They gave us the bacon as a welcoming gift," he explained. "Want some?"

Sasha gaped at him like he had lost his mind. "Do I want some?" she echoed. "You're damn right I want some," she said, hurrying forward to grab a plate from the table and practically throwing it at him. "Load me up!"

Tyreese did as he had been instructed and put three strips on her plate once they were ready. Sasha added some eggs and bread to her plate, then sat down at the table next to Ben to dig in, and hot damn if it wasn't the best meal she'd had in months, maybe even years.

"God this is good," she practically groaned, chewing the bacon slowly and savoring every bit of it. "I honestly forgot how good bacon was."

"You an' me both," said Tyreese, who had finished cooking and had joined her and Ben at the table to eat his own food. He made a sound of approval as he bit into his bacon, his eyes sliding closed with bliss.

Sasha smirked at her brother, then reached for her juice to take a drink. It was around that time that she realized that she had not seen Allen yet, and when she glanced around their new apartment, the sound of his tell-tale snores was noticeably absent.

Sasha frowned unsurely. "Where's Allen?" she asked, her eyes turning to Tyreese first, then Ben.

Ben, who hadn't been very talkative during their meal, suddenly looked a little fidgety. He pushed what was left of his eggs around with his fork, his eyes looking anywhere but at her.

"He headed out about an hour ago," Tyreese spoke up, drawing Sasha's attention back to him. "With Milton," he added.

Any happiness she had been feeling after getting a good night's sleep and having a belly full of delicious food rapidly diminished. Because if Allen had gone with Milton, that could mean only one thing.

He was going through with his plan to give the Governor information about the prison.

Sasha had never had a problem with Allen in the past. He had always been a good companion and friend. But he had been different since Donna had died, and the fact that he was willing to sacrifice the group at the prison to solidify his place in Woodbury didn't sit right with her at all. Sasha had tried to talk to him about it the night before, had tried to make him see that what he was doing was wrong, but he hadn't wanted to hear it and had brushed her off.

Clearly his mind was made up.

Ben suddenly stood up from the table, drawing her attention back to him. "I'm, uh…gonna go have a look around," he excused.

Before either of them could try to stop him, he hurried for the door and left. Probably trying to avoid getting grilled about his dad, Sasha thought to herself.

As soon as the door shut behind Ben, Sasha gave Tyreese a meaningful look. Her older brother immediately sighed, clearly knowing what was on her mind.

"What?" he asked calmly.

"You know what," Sasha countered.

Tyreese shook his head. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked. "I can't control what Allen does. I'm not his keeper."

"So you're just gonna stand by and let him sell out the prison?" Sasha asked incredulously. "He's putting all those people in danger – putting Sam in danger – and you're cool with that?"

"Of course I'm not!" Tyreese said loudly. "But Allen has sided with this Governor guy, and in case you haven't noticed, we're a little outnumbered here. If we try to stop him, he'll get us kicked out. Then where will we be?"

The thought of having to face the outside world again sent a shiver down her spine, but for as great as Woodbury appeared to be, she had already begun to see some cracks in the foundation. While the community had everything a person could possibly need or want, if Woodbury was attacking innocent people at random, was that really a community they wanted to be associated with?

"We can go back to the prison," Sasha said with a nod. "Jenna said we could come back. We can go there and warn them that Allen is giving information about them to the Governor. I'm sure they'll take us in."

"We already almost got shot once," Tyreese reminded her. "I'm not lookin' to have that man wave a gun in my face again."

Sasha heaved and rubbed her eyes. "Well, we can't do nothing, Ty. Those were good people in that prison, and I don't buy for a second that they started whatever shit is goin' on between them and the Governor." She leaned forward to give her brother an earnest look. "Sam is our friend. He saved our asses when he didn't have to. We owe it to him to try to help."

Tyreese opened his mouth to say something else, but a knock on the door interrupted him. They shared a look, before Tyreese got up to answer it. He opened the door, and to their shared surprise, it was the blonde-haired woman they had run into the day before, the one who had sent them to Woodbury with Milton.

"Morning," she greeted with a smile. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" she asked, making Sasha wonder if she'd been able to hear their heated discussion through the door.

Tyreese shook his head. "No, we're just finishing up breakfast."

The blonde nodded. "Looks like you had yourselves a feast," she commented, eyeing the many pans that Tyreese had cooked with. "Must feel good to have a full belly."

"Yeah, it does," Tyreese answered. "For once, our bellies are full and we didn't have to sleep with one eye open. That's all thanks to you," he said with a grateful smile. "Thank you again for helping us."

"You're welcome. I'm Andrea, by the way," she finally introduced, extending a hand.

"Tyreese," he responded, shaking her hand. "That's my sister, Sasha," he added, motioning toward her.

Sasha offered a wave in greeting.

Andrea nodded, then glanced back into the hallway, as if checking to see if anybody else was around. When she didn't see anyone, she turned back to them with a questioning look. "Mind if I come in for a sec? I'd like to talk to y'all about something…privately."

Sasha's brows furrowed with confusion. They didn't even know Andrea – what in the world could she want to talk with them about in private? Tyreese seemed to be just as confused as her, but he still nodded and stepped aside, motioning the blonde in. After Andrea stepped inside, he shut the door behind her.

Andrea's eyes swept the apartment, before she turned a questioning look on them. "Where are the other two in your group?" she asked, referring to Allen and Ben. "They might want to hear this, too."

Sasha frowned now, her suspicions raising. "They're out," she answered, standing from her chair. She went to stand by her brother, her arms crossing over her chest. "Is there somethin' going on?"

Andrea nodded. "I have a message for your group…from Sam."

Of everything Andrea could have said, that was the last thing Sasha had expected. Her eyes widened with surprise and darted to Tyreese, who looked just as taken aback. "How do you know Sam?" Sasha asked quickly, looking back to the blonde.

"I don't really," Andrea admitted. "I only met Sam yesterday. After I sent you and your friends to Woodbury, I went to the prison. To make a long story short, I used to be in that group," she revealed. "But I got separated from them a long time ago, and I had no idea they were even still around until I found out there was trouble between them and Woodbury."

"Yeah, we've heard there's been some problems," Tyreese said, his expression serious. "Do you know how it started?"

Andrea sighed, her lips pulling downward. "Someone from Woodbury did something they shouldn't have, then things kind of snowballed from there," she said.

So it had been Woodbury that had started the fight after all. Sasha had been right.

"Anyway," Andrea continued, "I talked to Sam while I was there, and he told me about some friends of his that had gotten kicked out of the prison. After he described his friends, I realized it was you guys."

"He knows we're here?" Sasha asked.

Andrea nodded. "I told him and Jenna I had sent you here. He was relieved you guys were alright, but there are some concerns about you being here in Woodbury. Since you have a friend inside the prison, they're worried that might put you in danger."

Sasha frowned deeply at hearing that. Neither Milton, nor the Governor, had seemed worried about them having ties to the prison – they had been nothing but hospitable toward them so far. Then again, they hadn't exactly told the Governor that one of their friends was still at the prison, had they? If he knew, would he be so welcoming? Or would he see them as a threat?

"Does it put us in danger?" Tyreese asked.

"Honestly, I'm not sure," Andrea admitted, her tone a little ominous. "I'd like to think you're safe in here, but lately, after all the things I've learned…" She trailed off, then shook her head. "Look," she started again. "I didn't come here to scare you. The reason I came is because Sam wants to talk to you."

"What about?" Sasha asked eagerly. Did he just want to check in on them? Or did he maybe want them to come back to the prison?

"I know he wanted to make sure you guys were okay, but other than that, I don't know," Andrea said with a shrug. "I think I can get you guys in touch, if you're interested in talking to him."

Sasha only spared Tyreese a glance before nodding her head, her mind already made up. "We do," she said, her heart pounding with anticipation. If she could talk to Sam, she could warn him about what Allen was up to, maybe even see if she and Tyreese could come back.

Andrea nodded. "Okay. I haven't figured out how I'm going to get you into contact with Sam yet, since this needs to be done under the radar. But as soon as I find a window for you guys to talk, I'll let you know," she reassured them.

"Okay," Sasha said with a nod.

"Remember, this needs to be kept secret," Andrea warned. "There's a lot of people here who wouldn't be happy if they knew you were in touch with the prison. It could land you in some serious shit. Nobody outside you and your friends can know."

Sasha, who currently didn't trust Allen or Ben any further than she could throw them, crossed her arms. "Better to keep this between just us three actually," she corrected, which made Andrea frown. "Allen and his son…they're helping the Governor, giving him information about the prison. I don't trust that he wouldn't rat us out for getting in touch with Sam."

Andrea frowned immediately. "Information?" she echoed. "What kind of information?"

She saw Tyreese shoot her a warning look, as if silently telling her not to keep talking, but Sasha ignored him. "The Governor wants to know about the layout, entrances and exits, where the group sleeps…anything that can be used against the other group," she told her. "Sounds like he's getting ready for another fight, if you ask me."

Andrea frowned even deeper, looking disturbed to hear it. She seemed to think it over for a moment, then shook her head. "I need to go," she suddenly said. "I need to look into some things." She paused at the door to look back at them. "What was said here will stay between us," she said with a firm nod. "I'll get you in touch with Sam as soon as I can. Until then, keep your heads down, okay?"

Sasha and Tyreese nodded in agreement, and after one last look, Andrea left.

As soon as they were alone, Tyreese turned to her with incredulous eyes. "What are you doing, Sasha? Why did you tell her that?"

"Someone needed to know what the Governor was doing," Sasha said unapologetically. "You heard what Andrea said. She was with that group. If she went all the way over there to check in on them, then obviously she still cares about them. If she knows they're in danger, then maybe she can do something to stop it," she explained with a nod.

Tyreese heaved, then wagged a stern finger at her. "You're askin' for trouble."

"I'm just trying to do the right thing," Sasha countered. "Clearly the Governor is gonna go after the prison, and if he does, we both know they don't stand a chance. Not unless they get some help," she said. "I know what happened there rubbed you the wrong way, but they still took us in and took care of us. I can't stand by and just let Sam, or Jenna, or that baby, or any of those people get killed. If I have to choose between Woodbury, or them…I choose them," she stated with a firm nod. "I can't do it alone, though. So do you have my back on this or not?"

Tyreese stared at her long and hard as he considered what she had said. Finally, he sighed in resignation.

"I got your back."

---

As it turned out, Jenna had been stressing over, well…nothing.

When Rick assembled the group, she prepared herself for objections, thinking that maybe someone would disagree or think that she wasn't qualified for the job. That didn't happen, though. After Rick announced that she was his new second-in-command there was perhaps some surprise, though Jenna suspected that was more because the group was surprised that Rick was willingly relinquishing some of his authority after eight months of being, for all intents and purposes, a dictator. Once everyone had gotten over their surprise, Jenna saw nothing but support and approval from her friends, and any lingering anxiety she'd had instantly vanished.

Shortly after the announcement was made, Rick, Carl, T-Dog, and Michonne left the prison to go on their run. It was not the first time she'd been in charge while Rick was gone, but it felt different this time, and that had a lot to do with the fact that everyone else seemed to be treating her a little differently now that she had an official title.

Rick had told the group that if they had any questions or concerns to talk to Jenna first, who would then come to him with anything important that needed to be addressed, and so far, the group was taking that new direction seriously. In the hour since Rick had left, Glenn had already approached her about further fortifying the prison against any possible attacks, Carol had come to express concerns about their diaper supply, and Hershel had reminded her that there would need to be another run for medical supplies soon, since they had used a lot of what they had on him while he'd been recovering from his amputation.

Where the group didn't always seem comfortable talking to Rick about these things, they seemed to have no problem talking to her about it.

Jenna wouldn't lie – it was a little overwhelming.

"I didn't think people would start coming to me with all this my first day on the job," she said to Daryl with a sigh as he kept her company while she changed Judith's diaper. "Hell, I didn't think people would come to me with this stuff at all."

Daryl shrugged a shoulder. "You're a helluva lot easier 'ta talk to than Rick is most days."

Jenna snorted. "I'm starting to think Rick made me his second so he wouldn't have to listen to everyone yapping in his ear about the stuff we need to get done."

Daryl smirked a little in response. His eyes then turned down to the poopy diaper she'd just taken off of Judith, his nose crinkling when he caught a whiff of it. "Damn," he said. "I didn't think baby shit smelled like that."

It did smell pretty bad, but she didn't think it was any worse than the foul walkers they dealt with on a near daily basis. Jenna folded up the diaper, set it aside, then grabbed a wipe to start cleaning the baby girl up. "Hershel said it's because of the formula. If she was getting breastmilk, it probably wouldn't smell so bad," she explained with a shrug. When Daryl just grunted, she looked at him and smirked when she saw the grossed out expression on his face. "Does it really bother you that much?"

Daryl glared at the soiled diaper as if it had personally offended him. "It stinks," he said bluntly.

Jenna lifted an amused eyebrow. "Says the dude who more often than not smells like something that fell out of the dumpster," she teased.

Daryl gave her a look, even though he obviously knew she was just messing with him. "That don't seem 'ta bother you too much," he quipped back.

Jenna smiled at him cheekily. "You're hot and I like the way you kiss me. I've learned to deal with it," she said with a wink.

Daryl immediately blushed and looked away, which was his typical reaction whenever she said anything even remotely complimentary or flirtatious. Jenna, having grown used to this by now, just smiled to herself and turned back to Judith to quickly put on a new diaper. Once the diaper was secured, she fixed the girl's bright pink onesie into place and picked her up, rocking the baby gently in her arms.

"It should be about time for her to have another bottle," Jenna commented. "Wanna help me mix up some formula?"

Daryl, having recovered from his embarrassment, nodded. "Sure."

They went to the common area, where they were keeping the baby bottles, formula, and water for Judith's meals. Carol and Hershel were in the common area as well, talking quietly at one of the tables, and Merle was in his little nook, keeping to himself. While Jenna rocked Judith to keep her content, Daryl got the supplies for the bottle and, following Jenna's instruction, made a few ounces of formula for her to drink. Daryl, looking a little proud at having made the bottle correctly, passed the bottle to her so she could give it to Judith.

It was as they stood there feeding the cute infant that Merle came sauntering over, that annoying smirk plastered onto his face as usual. When Jenna noticed him coming their way, she resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

She had been trying to steer clear of Merle so that Sam wouldn't go into overprotective brother mode, but sometimes the man just couldn't be avoided. Now looked to be one of those times, and she was glad Daryl was there so she wouldn't have to deal with Merle on her own.

"I see it's feedin' time," he commented to break the ice. He glanced at Daryl, then turned a look on Jenna. "Hope ya checked the bottle to make sure Daryl didn't slip any moonshine into it."

Neither Jenna, nor Daryl, laughed at his joke. "Is there something I can help you with?" Jenna asked, trying, and failing, not to sound impatient.

Merle huffed a little and held up a hand in surrender. "Easy there Ginger spice," he said, as if she were a wild animal he was trying to keep calm. "I just came over to congratulate ya on your promotion."

Of everyone at the prison, Merle and Michonne were the only two that hadn't seemed to have opinions on her new title…not that she had really expected them to, anyway. The fact that Merle was congratulating her now had her quirking a suspicious brow and wondering if he was up to something.

"Thank you," she said neutrally.

Merle nodded, then crossed his arms. "Since you're the boss now, I thought I'd remind ya that we still ain't in a great position weapons-wise if Philip comes bargin' in here while Officer Friendly is gone," he said.

"I'm aware," Jenna said. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"The smart thing 'ta do would be 'ta get another group out there lookin' for guns an' ammo instead of having us all sit here with our thumbs up our asses," Merle pointed out.

Jenna immediately shook her head. "No. Nobody else leaves while Rick is gone," she said firmly. "We're in a tight spot as is. We need people here, otherwise the prison would be way too vulnerable. We're all staying put," she said with finality.

Merle pursed his lips, but nodded. "Alright then," he said, before glancing around. "Is there somethin' else I can do, then?" he asked, and the fact that he actually wanted to contribute had her lifting her brows in surprise. "I'm bored as fuck lookin' at these walls all day. Let me go kill some walkers or somethin'. Just put me 'ta work."

While it was good that Merle wanted to help out, even if it was only to alleviate boredom, Jenna still didn't think Rick – or anyone else in the group – would appreciate Merle wandering around. "The best thing you can do right now is stay in your space and mind your business," she said. "I don't need you walking around riling everyone up."

"Who said anything about rilin' people up?" Merle asked innocently. When Jenna merely gave him a look that said she wasn't buying the act, he rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Fine." He then looked over at Daryl. "She bust your balls like that, too?" he asked, jerking a thumb toward her. But before Daryl could say anything, Merle held up a hand. "On second thought, don't answer that. I don't wanna know what she does with your balls."

Now Jenna did roll her eyes – he just couldn't help himself, could he?

Daryl looked just as annoyed. "Go away, Merle," he said tersely.

Merle whistled low and took a step back. "No need to get your panties in a twist. It was just a joke," he said, before shooting them another smirk. "Maybe your balls are bein' neglected. You're wound tighter than a nun's asshole, little brother."

"Merle," Daryl snapped.

"Alright, alright, I'm goin'," Merle huffed.

The elder Dixon walked away, grumbling to himself about them having no sense of humor as he went. Jenna shook her head in exasperation and looked at Daryl, who's angry expression morphed into one of apology.

"Sorry bout him. He's a dumbass," Daryl said with a helpless shrug.

Jenna huffed in response. "Tell me something I don't know."

She returned her attention to Judith as the girl finished with the bottle. She passed the bottle back over to Daryl and then moved Judith so that she was upright and laying against her shoulder so she could burp her. Jenna had just started patting the baby's back when the sound of the door to their block opening made her look that way. Beth came walking in, carrying a rifle and looking a little worn down as she trudged back into the block. The teenager had gone to take a shift on watch duty with Maggie less than an hour ago, and Jenna wasn't entirely sure why she had come back so soon.

"Beth?" Jenna called, which made the teenager stop and look toward her. "Everything okay?"

Beth nodded. "Nothing's going on. I'm just not feeling too well today. Think the heat's getting to me," she explained, and she did look a little more flushed than usual. "Maggie made me come back inside to rest."

Jenna nodded in understanding. "Maybe your dad should have a look at you," she suggested. The last thing anyone needed with a potential war on the horizon was for people to start getting sick.

"Ten steps ahead of you," Hershel said as he came over, the sound of his crutches echoing off the walls.

"Leave the gun," Jenna instructed Beth before she and Hershel could get too far. "I'll cover for you."

Beth nodded, put the gun on one of the tables, and smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Jenna."

"No problem."

Once Hershel and Beth had gone back toward the cells, Jenna went to hand Judith over to Carol, who happily accepted the infant. She then went to fetch the rifle Beth had left her and slung it over her shoulder. Before she had a chance to go outside, Daryl appeared by her side.

"You sure you wanna go on watch?" he asked. "I can do it for you."

Jenna smiled, but shook her head. "You're always on watch. Take a break for once." She glanced at Merle, who was staring around the room with boredom. "Keep an eye on him," she instructed quietly.

After Daryl nodded in agreement, Jenna pecked him on the cheek and started towards the door. Her gaze slid over to Merle one last time, and it was obvious he had seen the display of affection between her and his brother, because he was now making kissy faces at Daryl and laughing mockingly. It took all of her willpower to resist the temptation to go and smack Merle upside the head for being an immature idiot.

Once she was outside, she made her way to the watch post, which was heavily reinforced with wooden pallets for protection. Maggie was leaning against the pallets, her eyes trained on the road that led up to the prison. She finally looked over when she heard Jenna's approach. The younger woman stiffened at first, but upon seeing that it wasn't anyone from Woodbury trying to get the jump on her, she immediately relaxed.

"What're you doin' out here?" Maggie asked as Jenna joined her.

"I'm taking over for Beth," Jenna said. "Didn't want you out here by yourself."

Maggie nodded in understanding, then turned her gaze forward again.

Jenna went to stand next to Maggie, peering through a gap between the wooden boards of the pallet so that she could see the forest beyond the prison. Everything was still and quiet, save for the walkers still freely roaming the field. She frowned when she noticed that some of the gravemarkers they had set up for their fallen friends had gotten knocked over at some point, which was probably the result of the walkers running into them in their mindless wandering. She made a mental note to fix the markers at the first available moment.

For a while she and Maggie stood in silence, both watching the landscape for any unwelcome visitors. Eventually Jenna looked to her friend, a small frown pulling the corners of her mouth down as she took in the woman's slightly haggard appearance.

It was with a feeling of guilt that Jenna realized she hadn't spoken to Maggie much over the past few days. With everything that had been going on and with how preoccupied she had been, she hadn't even stopped to sit down with her friend to check in and see how she was coping with everything that had happened to her in Woodbury, nor had she asked whether or not things had gotten any better with Glenn. Considering how subdued and unlike herself Maggie had seemed, and seeing as Glenn had definitely been sleeping in a different cell, Jenna thought it safe to say that things weren't going too well on either front.

"How you holding up, Maggie?" Jenna asked gently.

Maggie glanced over at her, her lips pressed into a grim line. "I'm fine," she answered, before turning her gaze forward again.

Jenna frowned deeper. "Are you?" she asked knowingly.

Maggie looked at her again, and this time she sighed. "I'm tryin' to be," she admitted. "Kinda hard, though, with Woodbury still hoverin' over us an' with Merle sleepin' under the same roof," she said, her tone turning bitter.

Jenna gave her a look of sympathy. "I'm sorry you have to be around him. I know it's not easy, him being here." When Maggie just shrugged in response, Jenna gave her a questioning look. "He hasn't been giving you or Glenn a hard time, has he?"

Maggie shook her head. "He's been keepin' his distance for the most part."

"Good," Jenna said, her shoulders relaxing a little. "Hopefully it'll stay that way until all this is over."

Maggie lifted a brow. "And when is all this gonna be over?" she asked pointedly.

Jenna thought about it, then sighed and lifted a weary shoulder. "Wish I knew," she said quietly.

Maggie did not say anything to that, just sighed in what seemed like resignation and turned her eyes back to the forest.

Silence passed between them again. Jenna watched the trees sway with the breeze, trying not to listen to the random groans of the walkers milling back and forth not all that far from where she and Maggie were posted. She glanced back toward the cell block, then looked at Maggie again.

"Things still weird with Glenn?" Jenna asked.

Maggie hesitated, then shrugged. "It ain't great," she admitted with a frown. "He just…" Maggie hesitated again, sighing heavily to herself. "He can't let go of what happened at Woodbury," she said. "He's got so much anger in him. It's turned him into someone I don't even recognize right now." Maggie shook her head. "He kept demanding to know what happened between me an' the Governor, like he needed somethin' to justify how pissed off he's been. All I wanted 'ta do was put it behind me, an' he just…wouldn't let me do that."

Jenna frowned at that, able to see why Maggie was so fed up. "Did you tell him what happened?"

Maggie nodded. "Figured if I did, he'd finally leave me alone," she said blandly.

Jenna nodded slowly in understanding. "Sounds like Glenn didn't really go about all this the right way…but I don't think he was intentionally trying to be a jerk about things. Glenn loves you," Jenna reminded her, which made Maggie look down at her shoes. "He's worried about you, and he's mad that you had to go through that. I think he just let that get the better of him."

Maggie raised her eyes back to Jenna's. "He made it all about him, and his anger," she countered. "I was the one who had 'ta listen to him get beat to a pulp. I was the one who gave away the prison so they wouldn't keep torturin' us."

Maggie paused, her jaw working as she looked forward again. "The Governor didn't rape me," she said bluntly. "But he made me strip down in front of him. He bent me over a table. He put his hands on me." Maggie shook her head. "I'm so angry, Jenna. Angry at them for what they did 'ta us. Angry at Glenn for how he's been actin'." Maggie pressed her lips together tightly. "Angry at myself for givin' up the prison an' for what I allowed that bastard to do."

It should have been a relief to learn that her friend hadn't been raped, as Jenna had feared to be the case, but hearing what had happened didn't make her feel any better about the situation. Maggie had still been violated, had been through a terrible ordeal, and she was still very much struggling with what had happened.

"Don't you dare blame yourself for anything," she said firmly. "The Governor is a sick bastard. There's no telling what he might have done to you or to Glenn. And nobody – nobody – blames you for telling him about the prison," she insisted next. "You were in a tough position, Maggie. We all understand that."

Maggie didn't seem so convinced. She looked away for a long moment, her expression troubled, before she finally looked at Jenna again. "Would you have done the same thing?" she asked. "If it had been you an' Daryl there, if you'd had the same choices 'ta make…would you have done the same?"

Jenna tensed at the question. She did not really want to picture herself in that sort of situation – it was a situation she had, thankfully, never been in before, and it was one that she sincerely hoped she would never have to be in. But as she forced herself to imagine what she would have done if it had been her in Woodbury, her having to listen to Daryl get tortured, her being at the mercy of the Governor…it didn't take long for her to know what the answer was.

"If Daryl was in danger, if his life was on the line…I'd do whatever it took to save him," she admitted.

Maggie nodded, and the tension that had been in her shoulders eased some, as if she had found some kind of comfort or relief from Jenna's answer.

Jenna stared at her friend for a moment, then, because it felt like the right thing to do, she stepped in close to wrap Maggie up in a hug, squeezing her tightly. Maggie was stiff at first, but then she leaned into the embrace and hugged her back, accepting the comfort that Jenna was offering.

"I'm sorry, Maggie," Jenna said with sympathy. "I'm so sorry that happened to you."

Maggie's response was to hug Jenna even tighter.

When they finally pulled away from each other, Maggie cleared her throat and sniffled a little. For a second, Jenna thought the woman might cry. But Maggie quickly pulled herself together, forcing any tears away, and gave Jenna a small, grateful smile. It wasn't the biggest smile Jenna had ever seen on her friend's face, but it was the first one she had seen since Maggie had come back from Woodbury. The fact that she was smiling at all made Jenna feel happy.

"Thanks for listenin'," Maggie said. "It feels good 'ta get all that off my chest."

It seemed Jenna was playing the role of therapist a lot that day, first with Rick and now with Maggie. She didn't mind, though. "You don't have to thank me. You're my family, Maggie. I'm always here for you, no matter what," she said, giving the woman's hand a comforting squeeze.

Maggie offered up another small smile. "I know. Thank you."

Jenna inclined her head, then finally released Maggie's hand. "Anytime."

A much more comfortable silence passed between them after that. Though she was certain Maggie still had a lot on her mind, her friend didn't seem quite as troubled as she had looked these past few days, which made Jenna feel like she had at least done something to help her. It would probably still take some time for Maggie to fully move past what she had endured at Woodbury, but in that moment she seemed to feel better, and that was certainly a step in the right direction.

---

Sam had never been so attached to a walkie talkie in his entire life.

Ever since Andrea had left the prison the day before, he'd had a walkie stuck to him like it was a new appendage. Rick probably would have bitched him out for wasting precious batteries if he had known that the walkie had been on for nearly an entire day now, but Sam didn't really care. The only thing he was concerned about was getting in touch with Sasha and Tyreese. He just wanted to hear for himself that they were doing alright.

He was currently sitting in his cell, staring at the device like it held all the answers to the world's mysteries. He would admit it – he was damn near desperate to hear from them. Suddenly, he thought he heard a crackle over the walkie, as if someone else was trying to call out. Sam immediately sat straighter and raised the walkie to his mouth.

"Sasha? Ty?" he asked hopefully. "That you?"

There was no reply, and when the silence that came stretched on for far too long, Sam decided he must have been hearing things. He sighed with disappointment and lowered the walkie again, then started jumping to different channels, just to double check that he wasn't accidently missing them. When he still didn't hear his friends' voices, he told himself that maybe it was just too soon, that maybe Andrea hadn't been able to talk to them yet.

They'd reach out once they knew he wanted to talk, he was sure of it. In the meantime, he just had to be patient.

Sam got to his feet and left his cell to find something to do, making sure to take the walkie with him. He went looking for Jenna first, but after Daryl told him she'd gone on watch, he decided to help Daryl check over their weapons supply. Together, they made sure everything they had was loaded, clean, and ready to be used in case any trouble came along.

That only killed about an hour, but at least it was an hour he hadn't spent obsessing over the walkie. Sam went into the shower room to wash the grease from his hands, then, unable to help himself, he fiddled around with the walkie again. All he heard was static, which made him frown.

It was bugging him that it was taking so long to hear anything, and not for the first time, he wondered if maybe Woodbury was out of range for their walkies. Jenna had told him they had never really tested how far the range went, because they had never wanted to let anyone in the group go that far away. He knew they had a decent amount of range, since they'd had no problems contacting the prison when he and Jenna had been out searching for his friends in the woods. But he didn't know where Woodbury was, and it was very possible it was too far away.

Sam glanced down at the walkie, then turned contemplative eyes to the large windows. Maybe if he went outside, maybe if he got a little higher up, he'd be able to get a better signal.

With his mind made up, he started back toward the common area. It was surprisingly empty, save for one person.

Merle.

Sam headed for the door to the courtyard, holding the walkie tight in his hand. As he went, his eyes unconsciously turned toward Merle, who was loitering in his little sleeping area. The prick had noticed him and was staring right at him. Sam shot a nasty glare at the asshole and continued on his way, hoping Merle would mind his business.

Unfortunately, Merle had other plans.

"Goin' somewhere?" Merle called after him.

Sam stopped walking and felt an instantaneous and very potent surge of hatred rush through his veins. Why, when he thought he had made it pretty damn clear that he wanted nothing to do with him, was Merle talking to him?

"How is that your business?" Sam snapped without even looking at him.

There was a pause, then he heard Merle heave behind him. "Look, I know ya hate me – "

"That's an understatement," Sam interjected, finally turning around so Merle could feel the full force of his glare.

Merle gave him a look, then continued on as if Sam hadn't interrupted. "What happened back in Greenville was shitty," he said. "It wasn't s'posed to go down like that. Hell, I ain't even the one that pulled the trigger first. I was gonna try 'ta negotiate. But the other guys got impatient, an' then shit hit the fan, an' there was nothing I could do."

Sam gave the man a blank look. "That supposed to make me feel better or something?" he asked coldly.

Merle shook his head. "No. But…I just want ya to know that I regret what happened. An' I'd take it back if I could."

Sam scoffed. "Well, you can't. So you can take your guilt and shove it up your ass for all I care. I've got more important things to worry about."

With that, he turned back toward the door to leave, cursing the man under his breath. That hillbilly had some nerve. What did he think was going to happen? That he could make it right with a lame apology? That Sam would forgive him and then they'd hug it out and sing Kumbaya? It wasn't that fucking simple. His friends had been murdered in cold blood. Not even the best apology in the history of apologies would fix that.

Since he was pretty sure he'd now driven home the fact that he wanted nothing to do with him, Sam fully expected Merle would drop it and leave him alone.

Merle wasn't finished yet, though.

"Look, man, I get why you're mad," he called after Sam before he could leave the block. "But I'm tryin' to make it right."

Sam whipped around before he could stop himself. "Make it right?" he repeated incredulously. "My friends are dead. How the hell do you think you're gonna make that right?" he demanded.

Merle threw his hands up in exasperation. "Fuck if I know!" he answered honestly. "But I've gotta try, don't I?"

Sam snorted. "Why? You trying to pull off some kind of redemption arc?" he asked with sarcasm.

Merle suddenly had a serious look on his face. "Because if I end up stayin' here, I don't wanna be lookin' over my shoulder all the time wonderin' if you're gonna try to end me," he said. "But more importantly, your sister loves my brother, an' I'm pretty damn sure my brother loves her too." Merle's posture was stiff and guarded. "I've let Daryl down a lot, an' I don't wanna do that no more," he said. "I don't want this shit between us 'ta ruin shit between them."

Sam didn't know what to say at first. He hadn't expected Merle to be so…honest. And he definitely hadn't pegged him as the sort of guy to put anyone else's wellbeing before his own. He supposed he understood why Merle wanted to smooth things over, and Sam couldn't help but agree that he didn't want their rivalry to interfere with what Jenna and Daryl had going on.

But that wasn't enough to make Sam forgive him, and it wasn't enough to quell the hatred still burning in his veins.

Sam frowned and shook his head. "I love my sister, and I don't wanna ruin shit for her either…but I can't just forget what happened."

Merle heaved in exasperation. "C'mon, man. What's it gonna take?"

"Just stay out of my way," Sam growled. "Don't come near me. Don't talk to me. Let's just pretend each other don't even exist. It won't make anything right, but if you do that, then maybe I won't feel like I wanna beat you into a bloody pulp every time I see you."

Once again, Sam turned to leave, hoping that would be the end of it.

Once again, he was wrong.

"If that's what ya want, then come on and do it," Merle called.

Sam froze, then slowly turned around to face Merle, looking at him as though birds had just started flying out of his ears. Had he heard Merle right? Was the guy actually inviting him to kick his ass?

"What?" Sam asked.

Merle gave a little knowing smirk. "You've been itchin' to kick my ass since ya saw me on that bridge," he said matter-of-factly. "I don't particularly enjoy getting' my face smashed in, but…if it'll make you feel better, if it'll make ya feel like you've avenged your people in some way, then come on an' do it," Merle said, holding his arms out in invitation.

Sam narrowed his eyes, certain there had to be a catch to this offer. "You're just gonna let me beat the shit out of you?" he asked disbelievingly.

Merle nodded. "Yup. And I won't even fight back…not much, anyway," he corrected himself, smirking again. "Kinda a habit of mine 'ta fight back when someone comes at me," he admitted with a shrug. "Can't guarantee I won't throw a punch or two."

Sam still stared at him like he had lost his mind. Merle's offer had definitely thrown him for a loop. But the more he thought about it, the more tempting it sounded. He couldn't kill the guy, because for one, it would cause a whole hell of a lot of problems, and two, Sam didn't consider himself the murdering type, not even when someone deserved it as much as Merle did.

But beating the shit out of him? Sam could definitely do that. It wouldn't bring back his friends, but it would feel really damn good.

"C'mon then," Merle urged, beckoning him closer. "Let's get this over with. I don't wanna miss lunch."

Sam had made up his mind. Jenna would probably be pissed, and the rest of the group would have a lot of questions in the aftermath, but in that moment, he didn't care. With his jaw tensed and his shoulders squared, he began marching back toward Merle with purposeful steps, his fist already clenching. Merle tensed in anticipation, his jaw set as he braced himself for what was about to come.

"Just don't hit me in the dick," Merle said as Sam swiftly approached, the space between them rapidly closing. "I'd like to keep that intact in case any hot chicks come along."

"Deal," Sam growled.

As he reached Merle, he reared his right fist back and aimed to hit him in the face as hard as he could. Before he could swing, however, a voice stopped him.

"Hey!"

Sam and Merle both looked to the entrance of the cell block, where Daryl and Chloe had just appeared. Chloe looked worried and confused, while Daryl was frowning deeply and looking a little pissed off.

"What the hell's goin' on here?" Daryl demanded to know, his eyes glaring from Sam and his raised fist to Merle, clearly expecting an explanation.

Sam left it to Merle to answer. "Easy little brother," he said, sparing Daryl a glance. "This here don't concern you."

"Seein' as you're about to get your face smashed in, I'd say it does," Daryl countered.

"I told him to do it," Merle said impatiently, which made Daryl blink with surprise. "We're settlin' the score, alright? So just stand back an' shut up," he concluded with authority.

"Settling what score?" Chloe asked with uncertainty.

She looked up at Daryl for an answer, but he only continued to look at Merle. The two Dixons seemed to have a silent conversation, before Daryl finally heaved and looked down at the girl by his elbow.

"Go get Jenna," he commanded in a more gentle tone than the one he'd used with his brother.

Chloe almost looked like she wanted to question him again, but finally she nodded and scampered to the door. Once the girl was gone, Sam, who had relaxed his fist by now, turned accusing eyes on his sister's boyfriend.

"Didn't peg you for a tattle tale," he said, angry his chance to kick Merle's ass had gotten robbed from him.

Daryl gave him a bland look. "Not a tattle tale. Just need another referee 'ta make sure this shit doesn't get outta hand," he explained, before waving a hand in their direction. "Better get your punches in now. Can't promise Jenna won't break it up once she gets here."

Merle scoffed. "For the record, your girl is a serious buzzkill," he said to Daryl. "Does she ever – "

He did not get to finish his question. Because Sam, realizing Daryl wasn't going to stop him and not wanting to waste any time, had already reared back a fist and slammed it into the man's face as hard as he could.

---

Watch had been pretty uneventful so far, which was definitely a good thing, despite being boring as all hell.

Jenna had been talking quietly with Maggie to pass the time, but she could tell her friend was starting to get tired. Maggie had, after all, been on watch for at least an hour longer than she had, and if the bags under her eyes were anything to judge by, she probably hadn't been sleeping well, either.

Jenna was on the verge of telling Maggie to go in and get some rest when footsteps coming their way alerted them to the arrival of a new person. Jenna turned, her grip on her gun tightening, and saw that Chloe was running toward them. She only needed to get one look at the girl's expression to know that something was wrong.

"Jenna, you need to come inside," Chloe said urgently once she reached them.

Jenna frowned with concern. "What's going on?"

"It's Sam and Merle," Chloe said. "I think they're about to fight."

Jenna cursed under her breath. She couldn't say she was surprised. Given their history, it was honestly a miracle a fight hadn't broken out sooner. Knowing she needed to move quick before things got out of hand, she looked at Maggie and started to ask if she'd be alright by herself. Before she could say anything, Maggie waved her away.

"Go. I've got it handled here."

Jenna nodded, then, with Chloe in tow, she jogged back to the cell block, hoping she could diffuse whatever had led her brother and the older Dixon to finally start throwing fists.

Unfortunately, as she threw open the heavy door to the block and rushed into the common area, it was obvious she was too late. Sam was already ramming his fist into Merle's face over and over again, and he didn't look like he was going to be letting up anytime soon.

She hurried down the steps, her sights focused solely on her brother. "Sam! Stop!"

An arm wrapped around her waist before she could get too close, halting her in place. Jenna swung alarmed eyes up at Daryl, whom she had only just realized was there. He looked eerily calm, despite the fact that his brother was currently getting his ass handed to him. Why wasn't he doing anything to stop them? Why was he letting this go on?

"Leave 'em," he said with a nod.

Jenna looked at him like he'd sprouted a third eyeball. "What?"

"Merle told him to do it," he explained quietly. "He's lettin' Sam get revenge for his people. Just…let him get it out."

Jenna stared at Daryl for a moment longer, then looked back to Sam and Merle. Every instinct in her body was shouting to intervene before somebody got seriously injured, but she somehow managed to bite her tongue and keep her distance.

As much as she disliked Merle, watching him get the absolute shit kicked out of him was not anywhere near as enjoyable as she might have thought it would be. Merle was getting obliterated by Sam, and he did not appear to even be fighting back – in fact, he was laughing like a psycho and egging her brother on, as if getting his face turned into ground beef was fun for him. It reminded her a lot of that scene from the movie Fight Club, where Brad Pitt had gotten his ass kicked and laughed maniacally through the whole thing. Honestly, it was downright disturbing.

By now, the fight had definitely drawn attention. Jenna could hear the murmurs of the rest of the group as they came to see what was going on, and when she glanced at her friends, she could see looks of confusion and concern and, on Glenn's part, satisfaction, as Merle's face slowly turned more and more into a bloody mess.

A loud crash had her swiftly looking back to Sam and Merle, who had just tumbled over one of the tables. They landed hard on the floor, and for a second, the fighting stopped. Sam recovered from the fall quickly, though, and moved so that he sat on top of Merle. With a grunt he threw another punch, making Merle's head snap to the right, blood shooting from his mouth and staining the floor. Then he hit him again, and again, and again.

"Daryl," Jenna said, giving him a look that plainly said this fight had gone on for long enough.

He glanced at her, then turned his gaze back to the fight. It was almost like he didn't want the fight to end. It made Jenna wonder if maybe, after all this time spent holding a grudge against Merle, he was enjoying the fact that his brother was finally getting what he deserved.

"Daryl," she said again, her tone sharper this time.

He finally nodded. They went to break up the fight, working together to pull the bigger, stronger Sam away from Merle. Sam was heaving for breath, covered in blood and sweat, his knuckles split open and bleeding freely. He didn't look good, but Merle looked way worse. One of his eyes was swollen shut, his lip was busted, and he was bleeding from multiple cuts on his face. He let out a groan, his hands falling limp at his sides, then went very still.

"Merle?" Daryl said, immediately kneeling beside his brother. "Merle?" he said again, this time shaking his shoulder.

For a second, Jenna was worried that the severe beating might have actually killed Merle. But then Merle groaned again and weakly shoved Daryl's hand away, and she felt herself relax. "Knock it off," he said, his words garbled from the blood in his mouth.

Daryl looked slightly less concerned, but still looked to Hershel. "Can you look him over?"

Hershel nodded. "Bring him to my cell."

Daryl carefully helped Merle up, pulling his arm around his shoulders and helping him toward the block. Merle was hanging off Daryl, his feet dragging as he stumbled along with his brother. Jenna watched as the group parted to make way for them, then turned her gaze on Sam, her brows raising high on her forehead.

"Feel better?" she asked, her tone a little disapproving.

Sam, still trying to catch his breath, scoffed. "Don't tell me you feel bad for him. He had it coming."

"You beat the shit out of him, Sam," Jenna hissed. "He's probably gonna have brain damage after that."

"If he does, it'll be an improvement," Sam quipped.

Jenna heaved, then reached for one of his hands to inspect his bloody knuckles. She cringed at the mess he had made of himself. "You should clean these cuts. You don't wanna get an infection."

Sam pulled his hand from hers. "Later. Right now, I need some air."

Jenna nodded and let Sam step out into the courtyard, thinking some fresh air would do him good. Once he was outside, she turned to head into the cells and see what Merle's condition was. Before she could get far, Carol stepped in front of her with confusion in her eyes.

"Care to fill the rest of us in on why your brother just beat Merle within an inch of his life?" she asked.

Jenna looked at Carol, then Glenn, then Beth, then, finally, Chloe. She and Sam had agreed to keep his history with Merle under wraps for now, but after what had happened, she didn't really see how she could keep it secret anymore.

"Remember how Sam's first group was killed in Greenville?" Everyone nodded in confirmation. "Well, Merle was in charge of the men who attacked them. He's the reason Sam's friends died," she admitted.

The revelation seemed to shock them, then had them all talking over one another in a fury.

"Why didn't anyone say anything?" Carol demanded.

"Why did Merle attack Sam's group?" Chloe asked, looking confused.

"Does Rick know?" Beth questioned.

"Now we definitely shouldn't let him stay here!" Glenn said heatedly.

Jenna finally held up a hand to silence them. "Guys." Once they were quiet, Jenna sighed. "It was Sam's decision not to bring it up, okay? And yeah, knowing what Merle did makes things even worse, but we've got other things to worry about right now, so just let it go for now, okay?" Glenn looked like he was going to argue, but Jenna silenced him with a look. "Glenn, please. Drop it."

Nobody else said anything more. Jenna finally pushed past them and went to Hershel's cell, where Merle had been ushered onto the bed so Hershel could look him over, while Daryl hovered by the door, his arms crossed over his chest. Daryl glanced at her when she appeared, then looked back to his brother.

"How's he look?"

"Like dog shit that got run over by a truck," Daryl answered gruffly.

"Still better lookin' than you, asshole," Merle retorted, sounding a little more alert than he had previously.

Jenna sighed. "Must not be too bad if you can still run your mouth," she commented.

"Actually, it's lucky he can talk at all," Hershel said with a heave. "Sam did a number on him.'

Merle snorted, then immediately groaned with pain. "Next time I tell you 'ta let someone kick my ass, don't fuckin' listen to me," he said to Daryl.

"No promises," Daryl rebutted.

In the next moment, Jenna heard some commotion out in the common area before Sam came hurrying back into the block.

"Jen, you better come outside," he said seriously.

Jenna looked at him and heaved. "Jesus Christ, what is it now?" she asked impatiently.

"There's a car coming. Maggie said it's Andrea and someone else from Woodbury," Sam revealed.

Jenna straightened at that, then nodded and started toward the door.

Footsteps following closely behind her made her glance back at Daryl, who was hot on her heels. She raised her brows in silent question, having expected he would stay with his injured brother. "Hershel's got Merle," Daryl said. "Ain't no way in hell you're goin' anywhere near someone from Woodbury without me."

Jenna was not about to turn him away, so she nodded in understanding. Sam and Glenn joined them, too, but she firmly commanded Chloe, Carol, and Beth to stay inside so they could protect Judith. With weapons in hand just in case there was trouble coming, Jenna led the men outside, where Maggie quickly convened with them. They made sure not to stand out in the open as they surveyed the scene – there was indeed a car coming up the path through the field, drawing the attention of all the walkers meandering around there. Jenna craned her neck to see the road and the forest beyond the fences, checking for any signs of other people from Woodbury, but didn't see anybody else.

The car stopped at the locked gate of the courtyard, and Jenna saw that it was indeed Andrea behind the wheel, accompanied with a man she had never seen before. Andrea gestured to seemingly indicate that they came in peace, then shot a slightly nervous look at the walkers beginning to surround the car.

"Can you guys draw the walkers away?" Jenna asked Glenn and Sam.

They nodded, then went to a part of the fence several yards away from the gate, where they shouted and pounded their weapons against the chain link until all of the walkers had lost interest in the car and come to investigate the commotion. With the walkers out of the way for the time being, Jenna started toward the gate to unlock it. Before she could make it two steps, Daryl yanked the keys from her hands and went to do it himself, giving her a look that plainly said to stay put.

After the gate had been opened and Andrea had pulled the car into the courtyard, Daryl quickly closed and locked the gate again. Andrea got out of the car first, but the man she had come with seemed a little hesitant. Finally, he opened his door and slowly climbed out of the car, though he stiffened and backed away a little, looking uneasy as Daryl walked past him on his way to rejoin Jenna. It probably didn't help that Daryl was glaring at him like he was a bug that needed to be squashed.

"Thanks for letting us in," Andrea said with a small smile.

Jenna nodded, her eyes briefly sweeping the landscape beyond the prison once more. "It's just you two?" she asked to double check.

Andrea nodded. "Yeah, just us," she confirmed, nodding to her companion.

Jenna looked at the man, one eyebrow lifting as she gave him a once over. He looked fidgety and a little uptight, and he definitely did not give off the vibe of someone who could hold his own in a fight. "And who are you?"

"I'm Milton," he introduced, his expression rather stoic. "I work closely with the Governor. He sent me here to deliver a message." Milton paused to look around curiously. "I need to speak to Rick. Is he available?" he asked.

"He's busy right now," Jenna answered vaguely. There wasn't a chance in hell she was going to say that Rick was elsewhere – nobody at Woodbury needed to know their leader had left the prison.

"Then I need to speak to whomever else is in charge," Milton insisted, his eyes glancing over the men flanking Jenna.

"You're lookin' at her," Daryl interjected, nodding toward Jenna.

Milton glanced at Daryl, then turned his gaze back to Jenna, who raised her brows expectantly. Milton shared a look with Andrea, who nodded in encouragement, before clearing his throat and taking a few steps closer. He froze when Daryl took a protective step in front of Jenna, his expression aggressive.

"That's close enough," he warned.

After Milton nodded, Jenna placed a gentle hand on Daryl's shoulder and ushered him to the side, telling him with her eyes to relax. He moved back to where he had been, but still looked ready to intervene if Milton tried anything.

"So what does the Governor have to say?" Jenna asked, returning her pistol to her holster so she could cross her arms.

"He would like to meet with Rick," Milton announced. "He wants to try to negotiate a truce, bring an end to the fighting between our two communities."

Jenna glanced sharply at Andrea, who immediately nodded. "That so?" she asked, looking back to Milton. "He seemed pretty hellbent on trying to destroy us a couple days ago. What made him change his mind?"

Milton's stoic expression had not budged in the slightest. She wondered if he was trying to hide something, or if that's just how he always was. "I believe someone spoke to him, made him see how a peaceful end to our conflicts could be beneficial for everyone," he explained, glancing pointedly toward Andrea.

"He genuinely wants to talk, Jenna," Andrea insisted, making Jenna look to her again. "This could bring an end to this stupid war, just like we talked about."

Jenna nodded slowly, then turned her gaze back to Milton when he spoke. "Is sitting down to negotiate of interest to Rick?" he asked.

Jenna shrugged. "I'm not sure yet. But ending this war without bloodshed would be ideal for all of us, so…I'll do my best to convince him. You have my word."

Andrea seemed encouraged, but Milton had that oddly blank look on his face as he nodded once. "Very well. There is an abandoned grain silo about halfway between Woodbury and the prison, on a road called Laurel Hill. If Rick is inclined to talking with the Governor, tell him to be there at noon tomorrow. If he does not show…then we will only assume he chooses war over peace and react accordingly."

Jenna couldn't help but frown at the thinly veiled threat. "Noted," she said stiffly.

Milton nodded, looked at Andrea, then, having decided they had done what they had sought out to do, he headed back for the car. Andrea watched Milton go for a second, then came over to Jenna. "I know you'll do your best to convince Rick to be there," she said with a nod, looking optimistic. "I hope, for all our sakes, he shows up tomorrow."

Andrea then extended a hand toward her, which caught Jenna a little off guard. Why the formality of a handshake? Though a little confused, she grasped Andrea's hand. It wasn't until Andrea pulled her hand away that Jenna realized why the other woman had done it – Jenna could feel a folded up piece of paper in her hand now, which Andrea had sneakily passed to her through the handshake. As surprised as she was, she did not outwardly show it so as not to alert Milton that anything had transpired.

Andrea and Milton left as quickly as they had arrived, returning to their car and then driving away from the prison after Daryl let them back through the gate. Once the car was out of view, Jenna looked at the paper Andrea had given her and unfolded it.

"What's that?" Sam asked, hovering by her shoulder now.

She read the message, then lifted a brow and handed it to him. "I think it's for you."

Sam took the paper, then looked at her quickly, a smile tugging at his lips when he saw what was written.

Tomorrow. Noon. Channel nine. Sasha and Tyreese will be waiting.

---

It was well into the afternoon by the time Rick, Michonne, T-Dog, and Carl returned from their run. Jenna went to meet them out in the courtyard after Rick radioed to let her know they were coming down the road. She stood near the gate as the Tucson approached, then unlocked it and opened it so they could pull into the courtyard with ease. With the gate secured and locked again, she went to the Tucson as her friends piled out of the car. To her relief, everyone was unharmed.

"How'd it go?" she asked T-Dog, who was closest to her.

He smirked widely and beckoned her to the trunk. When he opened it, she saw several duffel bags piled on top of each other. She opened the nearest one, revealing several guns and rounds of ammo. Her eyes widened, then she smiled at T-Dog.

"You found weapons," she stated.

"Lots of weapons. Wasn't a walk in the park gettin' them, though," T-Dog said with a shake of his head.

"What happened?" Jenna asked curiously.

"Morgan Jones happened," a new voice answered.

While the others started to unload the Tucson, Jenna turned toward Rick, who had just appeared by her side. The name rang a bell, though she couldn't put her finger on why. "Why does that name sound familiar?" she asked.

"He's the man that saved me after I woke up from that coma at the start of all this," Rick reminded her.

Now she remembered. A long time ago, Rick told her how he had woken from a coma to find the world had been turned upside down, and it had been a man named Morgan Jones who had saved him from getting eaten by a walker almost as soon as he'd wandered out of the hospital. Rick had tried to contact Morgan several times before they had left Atlanta, but had never been able to reach him and had assumed he'd just…disappeared.

"He's still alive?" Jenna asked with surprise.

Rick nodded. "Alive…but out of his damn mind," he said with a frown. "He booby trapped the whole town an' attacked us when he saw us. Would'a killed us, had Carl not taken him down."

Jenna's eyes widened. "Carl killed him?"

Rick shook his head. "Morgan was wearing body armor. He was fine, just unconscious," he explained. "To make a long story short, Morgan's…had it rough. And it took a toll on him. He was hoardin' all these weapons so he could keep the town clear." Rick frowned. "He's not the same man I met all those months ago. He's changed. After what he's been through…can't say I blame him for it," he finished quietly.

Jenna nodded slowly. "So he gave you the weapons?"

"Yeah," Rick confirmed. "I tried 'ta get him to come here, 'ta start over with us, but…he wasn't interested."

"Maybe he'll come eventually," Jenna said optimistically.

Rick just shrugged.

Jenna couldn't help but notice that Rick's encounter with Morgan seemed to have left him feeling a little out of sorts. She couldn't say for sure why it had, though – maybe it was because he had been so determined to find Morgan back in the day, and now that he had, he felt like he had failed by not convincing him to join the group at the prison. Or maybe seeing the man Morgan had turned into had made Rick take a long hard look at his own behavior, and maybe he was starting to see that he needed to make some changes before his own grief turned him into someone unrecognizable, too.

"Anyway," Jenna said to change the subject. She glanced at Michonne as the woman grabbed the last of the bags they had brought back, then watched as she, T-Dog, and Carl headed back into the block. "How was Michonne?"

Rick nodded in approval. "Good. Helpful," he answered. "She helped Carl out of a tight spot while me an' T dealt with Morgan." He gave her a look. "I'm startin' to wonder if maybe we judged her a little too quickly."

Jenna made a thoughtful noise. "At least she's proving to be useful," she said.

Rick glanced toward the block, then gave her a questioning look. "Anything happen while I was gone?"

It had already been her intention to bring up the meeting with the Governor as soon as possible, and now that he had given her a window to do so, she wasn't going to waste any time. "Things were pretty quiet for a while, then my brother decided to decorate the common area with Merle's blood," she said.

Rick frowned with confusion. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Sam beat the shit out of Merle," Jenna told him. Rick opened his mouth to, undoubtedly, ask why, but she held a hand up to silence him. "There's bad blood between them, and let's just say Merle had it coming. I'll explain more later, but right now, we need to talk about the Governor."

Rick stared at her for a second, then heaved with frustration. "I told you, I need 'ta think about it."

"Well, you don't have a lot of time to do that," Jenna told him. "In fact, you only have until noon tomorrow." When Rick's brows furrowed together, she continued. "Andrea came back a few hours ago with some guy named Milton. I asked Merle about him, and he said he's basically the Governor's right hand man. According to Milton, the Governor has agreed to meet with you tomorrow, so you can try to work out some sort of deal to end the fighting."

Rick seemed a little surprised at first, then a little suspicious. "How do we know the Governor's not settin' up some kinda trap?"

Jenna shrugged. "I guess we don't really know, not for sure anyway," she said. "But I know Andrea was the one that convinced the Governor to do this, and I know that I trust her."

"So you want me 'ta go meet with him," Rick stated, already knowing where she stood on the matter.

"I do," Jenna said with a nod. "If there's a chance we can end this shit now, without anything else going sideways, then we need to at least try," she said earnestly. "Just meet with him. Talk to him. See what he has to say. Maybe you'll work something out, maybe you won't. But you won't know unless you go."

Rick stared at her for a moment, before letting out a long sigh. He shifted his gaze to the road for a few long, silent minutes as he contemplated what to do. Finally, just as Jenna was beginning to fear that Rick was going to nix the whole thing, he looked at her and nodded.

"Alright. I'll meet with him," he agreed.

Jenna sighed with relief. "Thank you. I know it's out of your comfort zone, but this is the right move."

"Hope you're right," Rick responded, looking less optimistic.

Jenna patted his arm, then motioned toward the block. "Let's get inside. We don't have a lot of time, and have a lot of planning to do before we go meet with that slimy bastard."

She started to walk away, but Rick stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Excuse me? Why are you sayin' we?" he asked, lifting a brow.

Jenna gave him a look. "Because I'm coming with you. Obviously."

Rick frowned immediately. "No, you're not."

"Yes, I am," Jenna countered patiently.

"The whole point of havin' a second-in-command is so there's someone to take over if somethin' happens to the one in charge," Rick reminded her. "If he's settin' up a trap an' we're both there, who's gonna take care of the group if we both die?"

"If we get there and we think it's a trap, we'll leave before anything can happen," Jenna said simply. When Rick started to argue again, she spoke over him. "Look, I don't know how to be a leader, okay?" she said pointedly. "If I have to take over for you someday, then I need to know what the hell I'm doing. I need to start learning from you, starting with how to negotiate with masochistic assholes." Jenna gave him a firm look. "Plus, as your number two, it's my job to have your back. So I'm coming with you."

Rick looked seriously annoyed with her, but he also seemed to realize that she wasn't going to take no for an answer. "You're a stubborn ass, ya know that?" he said with a huff.

Jenna smirked. "So I've been told. Now are we gonna stand around here bickering all day? Or are we gonna get to work?"

Rick heaved at her one last time, then finally started toward the block. "C'mon then, partner," he shot over his shoulder.

Jenna just smiled to herself victoriously, then followed him into the block.

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I really hope y'all enjoyed the update! Stay safe, stay healthy, and I'll see you at the next chapter!