I was still at Mom's, playing with RJ and waiting for a moment to take Judith off on her own to give her a stern talking to about her attitude toward Mom, when Laura came in and told me that a delegation from Hilltop was asking for me. Very little upsets my equilibrium, or at least outwardly, but this was one time that it did.

Mom had a multitude of questions, and so did I, but they die in our throats when the man tells us that Daryl asked for me specifically. Michonne's eyes met mine and we both knew that whatever I'm needed for at Hilltop it's of the utmost importance, because Daryl wouldn't ask for me for anything less than something paramount.

I insist, since I've been paged, that I be allowed a chance to tell Negan first. I can see the wince, the twinge of irritation at the announcement, but too fucking bad. After hugging RJ and kissing Judith and promising I'll be back safe and sound as fast as I can, I head to my house to pack a small bag and stop by Negan's cell to let him know I'm off to Hilltop for an unknown purpose.

To say that he took it poorly would be an understatement. His distrust for Daryl is palpable. His distrust for Maggie, Glenn, Hilltop in general is so heavy that I'm shocked that he can breathe through it.

"You don't even know why you're fucking going, Jessi." He sighs, eyes tight, looking like every muscle in his entire body is wound as tight as a spring. "What if-"

"What?" I shook my head and stepped closer, putting my fingers through the bars, touching his skin and pulling at him so he would move closer and I could touch more of him. "What if, what?" My eyes locked on his, drinking him in, this man who even caged was a riot of strength. "They bind me and lock me away? I dare them to try." He rolled his eyes, but his long arms reached through the bars and wrapped around my back pulling me into him, the bars keeping us apart, but only just. "Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, will keep me from seeing you again, Negan."

"I'll hold you to that, Jessica Grimes." He leaned down, lowering his head, his lips and mine meeting through the gap in the bars for a kiss before I had to head to Hilltop to see what was so important that Daryl needed my attendance.

"Says her name is Lydia." Daryl was telling me as he led me down a set of cellar steps. "She was easy to catch, makes me think they left 'er behind on purpose." I nodded, letting my eyes adjust to the dim light of Hilltop's very own jail. "Something ain't right about her, Jessi. And if anyone can get it out of her-"

I nearly snorted, but then my eyes landed on the girl. Dirty as hell, straggly hair, teeth that looked like they'd never seen the sight of a toothbrush, and eyes like a cornered animal. Yeah, this was a different breed of human, alight. Movement caught my eye in the cell next to hers, and I did snort then.

"Henry? Is that you?" Dear Lord, Ezekiel's son was locked up in Hilltop. "What the literal hell did you do to get locked up in the Hilltop clink?"

"Hey, Jessi." He sounded defeated, upset, embarrassed, and defensive all at once. Impressive for a snot nosed teenager. "Didn't know you did a lot of visiting."

Well spotted, I thought, but kept it to myself. "I'm the tri-community cell inspector. Newly minted." Nothing, until I heard a tiny grunt of laughter from behind me and had to bite my lip to hold back my own giggle. Fuck, I think I got a chuckle out of Daryl Dixon of all people. "Hilltop's look more spacious than Alexandria's, since you're from The Kingdom's, you have insider knowledge of those? Any help is appreciated, might save my ass a trip." My eyes were on Henry's, but I swear to God, I felt Daryl's snort in my toes.

Henry's eyes were wide, and I felt pretty sure he was trying to decide if I was serious or not, but my eyes went back to the young woman in the cell next to his. She was tucked into the furthest corner from where I stood. Her eyes were darting between the three of us, since Daryl hadn't left the cellar yet, but I planned on getting his ass out soon enough. Her fingers were tugging at the cuffs of her sleeves, and I was trying to focus on whether it was simply a nervous habit, or if she was hiding something at that spot.

"Daryl?" I didn't raise my voice, there wasn't a need and I didn't want her to jump. "Could you bring me something cool to drink? I'm a bit parched, and I want Henry here to give me some insider information on those Kingdom cells." He grunted his assent and after the door gave me the proof that he was gone, at least from sight, I smiled at the girl. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your cell neighbor, Henry?"

Henry blinked at me, I could see him out of the corner of my eye, but I didn't let my attention move from the girl. I wanted her to know that I was entirely focused on her. If she was primal, then showing her that I was in charge was important.

"Oh, right, sorry." Henry, the adopted son of the self-styled King Ezekiel of The Kingdom, finally found his fucking manners. "Lydia, this is Jessica Grimes. Her mother is the leader of Alexandria." Close enough, I thought, trying to keep from rolling my eyes. "Jessi, this is Lydia. She's-" And that's where he faded. Helpful.

"Hello, Lydia." Voice still quiet, pleasant. Keep soothing, make sure that she knows I don't bite. Unless it's necessary. I watched as one hand stopped fidgeting with her sleeve and went to her earlobe. "Does your ear hurt?" My head tilted as her hand dropped along with her chin, but her eyes never left mine. "Lydia?"

"She has an ear infection." Henry, the world's worst or strangest ventriloquist. And it hit me, teenage love. Shit. He was into her. Dirty and traumatised as fuck, Lydia was his type. How weird. "Daryl brought medicine with food, but-"

"Do you not trust the medication?" I addressed Lydia. While Henry was helpful as the puppet voice, I wanted to get Lydia involved in the conversation. "It's hard to trust people who put you in a cage, I do know that." Trust me, I DO.

"Jessi really does, Lydia." Thank you, Henry, I thought. Right there as the world's best/worst backup singer. "She fell in love with-" I couldn't hold back the long sigh that hit me. I had to, it had to come out. Sorry not sorry. "Sorry, Jessi." Yeah, pretty fucking sure that Henry was in the clink to dry out. Verbal diarrhea tends to be a symptom.

"Not a problem." I was still studying Lydia. "Daryl tells me that you're a member of the group that attacked and killed our people." Her eyes flickered around the room, landing on Henry, the window, the door, the bars, me, and again making a route. "Lydia, I'm unarmed." I lifted my shirt, took a slow turn to show her that I truly wore not a single weapon. "I haven't fought anyone hand to hand for a very long time." Also true. "I am NOT here to harm you." I wasn't. From what Daryl told me, and Tara had reiterated while I listened and took mental notes, was to find out how dangerous this girl was. Whether she was important to her people and whether that made her valuable and dangerous.

I take a seat on the ground, ignoring the wooden chair that sits nearby. I know that Lydia is probably wondering why Daryl hasn't returned with the cool drink I asked for, but I plan on distracting her with other tactics. Henry, with a short glance his way, follows suit. Lydia, after a few beats, joins us.

"I heard that you said 'hunger is a gift,'" I tell her, leaning against the wall behind me, getting comfortable. I want her to know that she is correct, as I'm sure she was thinking that she's been eavesdropped on. "Hunger is what you make of it, nothing more, nothing less." I watch her as she puzzles through my words, I can see the war fighting inside her head. "My father, his mentality throughout this entire mess, ebbed and flowed. On one hand, he wanted us to learn to use every single hardship that this fucked up world handed us to make us harder and stronger and fiercer." Her eyes blazed as they met mine and I knew that whomever she feared or learned from had put that idea firmly inside of her. "On the other side? He was terrified that in doing that, in gripping the hard and using it to brace us and build us harder, it would steal the best and ONLY reason worth surviving. Our humanity." I thought of Judith, of RJ, of Mom, of Negan, of Daryl, of Carol, Maggie, Glenn, and on and on-

"Hunger isn't the gift, Lydia. LIFE is the gift. Never forget that." I sighed. My eyes landed on the medication bottle lying close to me near the bars. I reached out and took it into my fingers. "Dealing with pain when you don't have to? That's martyrdom for martyrdom's sake, and it's stupid and shitty." I tossed it to her and smiled when she caught it easily. "Good hands, now take the fucking meds." Henry was staring at me, but I was gratified to see a smirk on the girl's face. "Now tell me about Alpha, and how often you're beaten for no apparent reason so we can discuss whether the cell is a permanent situation or not."

Daryl had listened in on Henry and Lydia's conversations before I'd come. I HAD insider information. I didn't need to wait and dig, but I did want to see what I could garner without using it.

And what I learned was that Henry was overprotective and Lydia was more than willing to let him do the talking. Lydia was abused. She watched her mother kill her father. She watched this woman run roughshod over EVERYONE and no one stood up to her. Why would she suddenly choose to stand up for herself among strangers?

Which was the point where I gave up. Why not just admit that I knew it all? Cut out the middle tape and the middleman and get to the damn point of it all?

Plus, it's HILARIOUS to freak out teenagers. Seriously. Try it sometime. I dare you.

"It's not for-"

"No apparent reason?" I asked, biting back a yawn. "Lydia, listen, I'm here because I have this uncanny ability to cut through bullshit. OK, not really, but I do have a background in trauma." Henry's eyes were zeroed in on me so hard that I swore I'd end up with fucking marks. "When I first met Henry's mom," I heard him shift and I knew he was thinking of what he'd shared with her about Carol's past. "I knew that she was abused by her husband. Not only because of her hair, but her eyes." Lydia's were still locked on mine, as though I were telling her a fairy tale. "People who are victims of repeated terrorization by loved ones, their eyes are haunted. They're also fidgeters, they twitch and they jump." Just like you, I wanted to add, but I didn't.

"But I should do better," she was still fighting to prove that her mom, that her leader wasn't in the wrong. That she EARNED her 'punishments'. "I shouldn't-"

"Irritate her?" I offered, raising an eyebrow. "Upset her?" I leaned forward, raising my knees to prop my elbows on top of them. "You shouldn't say whatever you said, whenever you said it, however you said it, to get her to hit you? Or you shouldn't have looked at her in that tone?" I shook my head. How often had I heard it? Or seen it? When I'd volunteered during high school and college? "Abusers will never take credit for being the ones who perpetuate abuse, Lydia. The blame will always lay at the feet of those who they victimize. Even if that victim is an infant."

The next round of questioning came with the subject of how important Lydia felt she was to her mother and people. Would they come for her? Would they attack our people again? At what cost?