The room was dark, the only light coming from the sun filtering through the gray curtains as it illuminated the pathetic figure on the queen-sized bed. Anna curled on her side, a trembling and sobbing mess. At some point she had fallen asleep—she wasn't sure for how long—and she woke up with the crack of wood against skull ringing in her ears. She wrapped her arms around herself as another bout of sobs ran through her.

Jessie had come some time earlier to try to get her to eat but she refused, choosing instead to lock the door. He, Rick, and Michonne came by periodically to check on her, only to be ignored.

Anna was sure she should have gone with Maggie and Sasha to Hilltop. But all she could think to do in the moment was return to Alexandria with the others. She wanted to go home and drown herself in the memory of Daryl, so she wore his sleeping clothes and hugged his pillow, clutching his note in her hand.

Be back for dinner.

Most of all she wanted to hide.

"I'll see you soon."

Her skin still tingled from where Isaac's hand had trailed over her back.

Glenn was supposed to be alive, and Abraham. Daryl was supposed to be lying beside her. Isaac, he was supposed to be rotting on the forest floor. He wasn't supposed to be here.

Her fingers trailed over the scar running from her right temple to the top of her cheekbone. Her fingers twitched and she reached for her thigh.

Anna jumped as the bedroom door swung open. Rosita stood there with a hairpin and a satisfied smirk on her face.

"Come on," she said, walking into the room. "Get up."

"Go away," Anna muttered, pulling the blankets over her body.

"No. We're going on a supply run. Gotta be ready for when Negan gets here," she said, spitting the man's name. "Besides, you've been in here long enough."

"Go away," Anna repeated, her voice muffled by the blankets.

"You are getting up and you are coming with me," Rosita said, yanking the blankets off.

Anna curled tighter around herself.

"You're pathetic," Rosita scoffed.

"Pathetic," Isaac sneered.

"You know, you aren't the only one who lost someone," Rosita snapped. "Glenn is dead, Abraham—" her voice cracked, "—Abraham is dead. Daryl's gone, but at least he's still alive."

"At least," Anna mocked.

"Oh, you think you have it so bad?" Rosita asked, her voice jarring. "I lost Abraham three times. Once to Sasha, once to Negan, and again when Sasha took his body. Maggie lost her husband—the father of her child! Your boyfriend gets kidnapped and all you can do is lock yourself away like some broken little princess. Daryl is alive and you can't even lift a finger to help him. Why? 'Cause little Annie is scared?"

Anna shot up and stared at Rosita, her eyes wide and brow furrowed. Rosita took a step back.

"Don't ever call me that again," Anna hissed. "Get out. Now."

Rosita took a step away as Anna rose from the bed. She backed the Rosita up until she was standing in the hall. Anna said nothing as she glared at the woman and slammed the door shut.

Anna walked out of the bathroom, switching off the light as she dragged herself back to bed. Her hair was still damp from the frenzied shower she'd taken in an attempt to scrub Isaac's touch from her skin. Rosita was right; she was pathetic. She pulled the blanket aside, ready to huddle beneath it, when the front door opened and slammed shut and footsteps traveled hastily down the hall.

There was a knock at her door.

"Go away," Anna huffed.

The knocking continued and she crossed the room, ripping the door open.

"What?" She snapped.

Jessie stood on the other side, a worried look in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak when a voice came from behind him.

"Annie."
She tensed and peered over his shoulder to see Isaac trailing down the hall, glancing inside the doors on either side.

"Good to see you again," he greeted, stopping just behind Jessie. "Why don't you give us old friends some space, Jess," Isaac said, gesturing for Jessie to step back.

"I don't think—"

"That wasn't a request," Isaac warned. "You don't have to worry; Annie and I go way back. She's in good care with me," he assured, patting Jessie on the shoulder before pushing his way into the room.

Anna quickly moved aside, putting three feet of space between them.

"Nice room," Isaac said, looking around as he pushed the door closed, shutting them in and Jessie out. "A little messy for my taste."

He walked over to the bed and pulled the blankets out flat before fluffing Daryl's pillow. Anna kept her eyes on the ground, unwilling to look at him.

"Why so dark in here?" He asked, looking to Anna. "Turn on the light."

Anna reached over and flipped the switch, the overhead coming to life.

"Ah, that's much better. Is this where your closet is?" He asked, pointing to the bathroom.

She nodded.

"Great, let's get you dressed," he said, clapping his hands—the sudden noise made her jump.

He walked into her bathroom, switching on the light, and pulled the closet door open. He rifled through her hanging clothes, inspecting each article before moving on to the next.

Anna glanced to her hunting knife resting on the counter. She looked between Isaac and the knife, her fingers twitching. He wasn't looking. She could slit his throat or jam the blade through his ear.

"Perfect," he sighed, turning to her, and she took a step away from the counter. "Here. Put it on," he said, handing her a blue, short-sleeved dress covered in pink flowers that reached her knees.

With shaky hands, Anna placed the dress on the counter, covering the knife, and pulled the black T-Shirt over her head. She could feel Isaac's eyes trailing over her body.

"What happened here?" He asked gently, his fingers finding purchase on the scar on her side.

"Nothing," Anna said quietly.

"Now, now—you know that's not how this works. Have you forgotten your manners already?" Isaac chided. "I ask, you answer."

"We were attacked by some people. I fought one of them and she had a knife," she said quickly, taking a deep breath after, just wishing he'd stop touching her.

"You're just covered in scars," he mused. "From me, from others—from yourself."

He pulled his hand away, and she continued to strip out of Daryl's night clothes until she stood in only her underwear.

"Wait. Let me get a good look at you," Isaac said, holding up his hand. "Turn for me."

She ground her teeth and made a slow turn where she stood until she was facing him again.

"That's a good girl," he grinned. "Now, get dressed. Lots to do."

Isaac strolled into the office, scanning the bookshelves before picking up random items from the desk.

"A laptop?" He asked, raising a brow at her. "Look at you, movin' up in the world."

He shut the computer and sat down in the chair, propping his feet up on the desk.

"What exactly do you do here, Annie?" He asked as he fiddled with the pieces of paper scattered on the desk.

She jumped as a gunshot rang out and she looked over her shoulder.

"I asked you a question," Isaac said.

"I'm a Historian," she muttered, turning back when there wasn't another shot.

"Speak up, Annie."

"I'm a Historian," she repeated more loudly. "I record the major events here."

"Isn't that cute," Isaac sneered as he pulled drawers open and pushed them shut. "I'm bored," he said, standing suddenly.

Anna jumped back, pressing herself against the door.

"Aw, don't be like that," he cooed, walking slowly around the desk to stand in front of her.

She flinched as he trailed his fingers over the scar on her face and down to her lips.

"Your new boyfriend wouldn't like this, would he?" He asked, his breath tickling her lips as he leaned in closer. "Maybe we should ask him. Don't move." Isaac ordered as he backed away from her and out of the office.

Anna let out a long breath, her body shaking as she wrapped her arms around herself. She looked to the floor and counted the rings in the hardwood, trying to steady herself. All she wanted to do was run and hide and cry, but her legs felt like cement. So, she closed her eyes.

She heard two sets of footsteps approaching, one quieter than the other, and she took a deep breath. When the footsteps stopped in front of her, she slowly opened her eyes, looking first at the black boots then to the bare feet. Her eyes trailed up the form, taking in the sweat suit and the orange 'A' seemingly spray painted on the front. It looked and smelled as though it hadn't been washed in months. Finally, she looked at Daryl's face, obscured by the tangled, oily mess of his hair. It was clear he'd been beaten, and from the bags under his eyes, hadn't slept much.

"Daryl," Anna breathed.

"Ah, ah," Isaac said, holding up his hand. "I have one rule for this little rendezvous. You are not allowed to speak to or look at Daryl. Am I clear?"

Anna grinded her teeth, turning her eyes to the wall behind him.

"That's a good girl," Isaac grinned. "Now, I just want you to answer a couple of questions for me—so that Daryl here really grasps the nature of our relationship."

Isaac came to stand beside Anna, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as she dropped her hands to her sides, her fingers twitching at her thigh.

"First question; did I or did I not save your life when we first met?" He asked, squeezing her gently.

Anna said nothing. It was a familiar idea he'd repeated over and over again. "I saved your life. You should be thanking me." She loathed to admit it, but he was right. If he hadn't found her after Anderson, she would have gotten lost in those woods and starved to death—if she didn't get eaten by a walker first.

"Annie," Isaac said. "Answer the question."

"Yes," she finally said, working her jaw.

"Wonderful," Isaac praised. "Next question; has he—" he pointed at Daryl then to her, "—fucked you?"

Anna's face heated and she grabbed a fistful of her dress's skirt and clutched it so tightly her knuckles turned white.

"Yes," she said, her voice cracking.

"But I fucked you first, right?" He asked, leaning in close so that his lips brushed against her ear.

Anna blinked at the tears in her eyes. She tried to force her answer past the rock in her throat, but no sound came out. She clamped her mouth shut and closed her eyes as tears slid down her cheeks. She nodded.

"That's right," he said, pulling away from her. "See, Daryl—what a good girl she is. And what do good girls get, Annie?"

"Rewarded," she managed to say.

"You can look at him now," Isaac crooned. "Not much of a reward, if you ask me, but I'm sure you're dying to, huh Annie?"

She kept her eyes closed and bowed her head, sucking in a shuddering breath. She didn't want to look at him. But she slowly opened and raised her eyes to meet his. He stared back at her; his face was expressionless.

No. Don't hate me. Please. Not you.

"Well, this has been a lot of fun, but I think it's time for you to get back to work. Lots of stuff to load up," Isaac said, clapping his hands and shooing Daryl away.

Daryl turned and walked out of the office, disappearing down the hall. Anna choked back a sob and wiped at her face as Isaac moved to stand in front of her, hands in his pockets.

"That was somethin' else," Isaac said. "I mean, did you see the look on his face? I think he might be a little upset," he chuckled.

The smile slowly fell away from his face as he looked at her puffy eyes and red face.

"Don't worry about him. What he's going through—it's his own fault," Isaac assured. "Things would be a lot better for him if he'd just kneel."

Anna's eyes flicked to his and she furrowed her brow.

"Like you did?"

Isaac's hazel eyes darkened the split second before his right hand whipped up to strike her across the face. Her body jerked to the side with the force of the hit, and she instinctively stepped down on her left foot to keep from falling. The pain in her right cheekbone pulsated along to the rapid rhythm of her heart pounding in her chest.

"Don't you ever talk to me like that again," Isaac hissed. "What do we say when we've been bad?"

Anna pressed her fingertips to her cheek and winced as she straightened, happy that Isaac didn't wear rings.

With a loud thud, Anna was shoved against the door, slamming it back against the wall, the doorknob undoubtedly leaving a hole. Isaac's hand was in her hair, pulling tight as he held her in place.

"What do we say when we've been bad?" He repeated, his voice a low growl in her ear.

Anna squeezed her eyes shut; her teeth bared in pain as he twisted her hair in his hand.

"Look at me, Annie." She opened her eyes and looked at him, fresh tears gathering along her bottom lids. "What do we say when we've been bad?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He let go and stepped back but she remained pressed against the door, too afraid of what he might do if she even thought of moving. Isaac straightened his shirt and smoothed out his dirty-blond hair, his face impassive.

"Alright, I forgive you," he said calmly. "But, I've gotta take your guns—boss's orders."