Anna jolted awake, her breathing rapid as she stared into the darkness. When she remembered where she was, Anna sunk back against her pillows and pulled the blanket tighter, attempting to even out her breathing. She tried to convince herself that it was just a nightmare, but the throbbing in her cheek was real—they were dead, Isaac wasn't, and Daryl was gone.

"Anna?" She vaguely heard Jessie call from the other side of the door. "Anna, are you in here?"

Through the crack under the door, Anna could see shadow as Jessie walked into the bathroom.

"Where is she?" He grumbled.

His boots echoed on the tile as he came to stand in front of the closet door. After a pause, he knocked.

"Are you in there?"

She didn't reply.

"If you're in there, Tara's here. She's here to see you."

Anna pressed her palms into her eyes and let out a groan. She'd forgotten about Tara. There was only one reason she would be looking for Anna, and she wasn't going to make the woman wait like Lindsey's parents had to.

Untangling herself from the blanket, Anna got to her feet and ran her hand over the wall until she found the switch and turned on the light. She pulled a pair of jeans down and put them on before she took a breath and opened the door.

Jessie stepped to the side to allow her to exit.

"When did you start hiding in closets again?" He asked as she walked past.

She ignored him and the pieces of dress scattered across the bathroom floor and made her way to the office. Down the hall, Anna could see Tara sitting on the couch in the living room. She turned into the office and quickly found the CD, thankful that the room had been mostly left intact—the only thing missing was the orange soda Denise had fought to get for Tara.

Anna walked out of the office and down the hall. Tara stood as she approached; her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. Anna said nothing as she offered the disc.

Tara breathed deeply as she took the CD.

"Thank you," she said, clearing her throat.

Anna wanted to say she was sorry, but the words wouldn't come out.

"Um, Rosita said that you were there—that you and Daryl buried her," Tara said. "I just… thank you."

Anna bowed her head and shifted on her feet before looking back at Tara.

"Denise wanted you to know that she loved you, too," Anna managed to say, her voice rough.

Tara inhaled sharply and her bottom lip began to tremble as she nodded.

"Thank you," she whispered as she wrapped her arms around Anna.

Anna stiffened but returned the hug until the woman let go.

"I'm gonna go now," Tara said, starting toward the door.

Anna said nothing as Tara walked out of the house. Jessie shut the door behind her and turned to Anna.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm fine," she said, starting back to her room.

"You're not, though," he said.

"Then why did you ask?" She snapped, pausing.

"You haven't hidden in a closet since you were a kid," Jessie said, moving toward her. "It was that Isaac guy, wasn't it? He said he knew you. Who is he?"

"Jess—"

"Tell me."

Anna took a breath and ran her hands through her hair, pulling at the ends. She kept her back to him as she finally spoke.

"He's the one who gave me the scar. He was…." She paused, wondering how she was going to tell him this part without crying. "He was one of the men who found me after the farm."

"You said they were dead—that Marley and her group killed them," Jessie said.

"I thought he was. I saw him. He was bleeding on the ground. He wasn't breathing." Anna shook her head. "He's not supposed to be here," she breathed.

"Anna," Jessie said, and she heard him take a few steps toward her. "I won't let him hurt you again. I'll kill him."

"You can't," Anna said, whirling around to face him. "If you do anything, Jess, you'll die. I can't lose you too. Promise me you won't," she begged.

"Anna—"

"Promise me."

Jessie pressed his lips together and furrowed his brow at her. Finally, he nodded.

"I promise."

Daryl yanked the chain tight around the walker, using the metal pipe to keep it away from him. A burst of gunfire erupted from somewhere, riling up the walker even more; it snarled and swiped at him, but Daryl moved beyond its reach, ducking under the chain.

He faced the chain-link to see Carl on the ground, Dwight hovering over him with a rifle.

"Is that any way to treat our new guest?" Negan asked, and Dwight let off.

Daryl had to take his attention away for a moment to dodge a walker, held on a chain by

another prisoner struggling to secure it to the fence.

Why the hell did he take the kid?

"Come on, kid. I will show you around," Negan said as he held his hand out to help Carl to his feet.

Carl merely glared back at him.

"You know, you do the same damn stink-eye as your dad, except it's only half as good 'cause well, you know, you're missing an eye," Negan laughed. "Really? You're really not gonna take my hand? 'Cause you're lucky you even still have a hand. Same as your boy Daryl over here, now that I think about it."

Carl looked at Daryl.

"How's the job going, Daryl? Hot enough for you?" Negan taunted. "Yeah, it'd be tough with one arm."

Finally, Carl took his hand, and Negan pulled him to his feet.

"Ah, smart kid. Dwighty-boy," Negan called turning to Dwight. "Why don't you grab Daryl, take him to the kitchen, do a little grub prep."

Dwight went to the gate and opened it just wide enough for Daryl to squeeze through. He grabbed a fistful of Daryl's sweater and pulled him along as Negan gave orders to burn the dead. Daryl tried to keep his eyes on Carl for as long as possible until Dwight pulled him inside and shut the door.

Daryl carried the plate of fruits into the room, careful not to drop any as he stood to Dwight's right, Dwight holding a fistful of his sweater to keep him still. He immediately searched the room for Carl, finding him standing by himself a few feet away. Daryl turned to Negan to see Sherry kissing him. He and Dwight both stood awkwardly until the two noticed their entrance.

Negan pulled away and chuckled, walking over to them to grab a grape off the tray with a toothpick. He gestured to Carl.

"Carl, will you grab this tray for me?"

Carl reached for the tray, and Daryl handed it over.

"Why you got him here?" Daryl asked in a low voice.

"Whoa! What we talk about when you're not here is none of your business," Negan said; he turned to glance at Sherry before looking back at Daryl and holding up the toothpick. "Do not make me put this toothpick through the only eye he has.

"You go with Dwight," Negan ordered. "He'll get you a mop. Dwighty boy, fire up that furnace. I'll be down in a few. Time for a little Deja vu. Come on kid," Negan said, pushing between Dwight and Daryl and leading Carl out of the room.

Daryl watched them go until they were gone and turned back to Sherry, who stood stoically. Dwight grabbed Daryl's arm and pulled him toward the door. Daryl yanked his arm away but followed him, nonetheless.

Dwight stood at the furnace, staring into the flames as Daryl stood leaning against the mop just behind the man, Mark, who was tied to the chair. The Saviors gathered around, whispering as they waited for their leader to arrive.

It fell silent when a clang of wood against metal erupted from above, and they turned to see Negan walking down the catwalk, followed by Carl. Everyone, including Daryl, kneeled.

"Hold that for me," Negan said, handing Lucille to Carl before leaning against the railing to address his people. "You know the deal. What's about to happen is gonna be hard to watch. I don't want to do it. I wish I could just ignore the rules and let it slide, but I can't. Why?" He asked, starting down the stairs, Carl just behind him.

"The rules keep us alive," everyone answered.

Daryl remained silent.

"That is right. We survive," he said, stopping on the landing. "We provide security to others. We bring civilization back to this world. We are the Saviors. But we can't do that without rules. Rules are what make it all work. I know it's not easy. But there's always work. There is always a cost. Here," Negan said, gesturing around him, "if you try to skirt it, if you try to cut that corner—" he shouted before chuckling, "then it is the iron for you. On your feet."

Everyone stood as Negan finally made it to the lower level and entered the center of the gathering. He patted Mark's face as he passed.

"D," he said, pulling on a thick glove.

Dwight reached into the furnace with a hook and pulled out a glowing red iron. Negan took the iron and turned to Mark.

"Mark, I'm sorry," Negan said. "But it is what it is."

Without further discussion, Negan walked up to Mark and pressed the iron against the side of his face. Daryl winced at Mark's cries of agony, the sizzling of his skin and the smell of burning flesh.

Finally, Mark stopped screaming as he slumped over in his chair, and Negan pulled the iron away, a piece of Mark's skin peeling off as it stuck to the iron.

"Ah, that wasn't so bad, now, was it?" Negan chuckled as he passed the iron back to Dwight. "Jesus. He pissed himself," he turned to Daryl and walked up, leaning into his ear. "Clean that up."

Daryl looked to Carl for a moment before he moved to Mark and scrubbed at the piss puddle under him.

"Doc, I'm all done. Do your thing," Negan said, and Dr. Carson began inspecting Mark. "Well, the pussy passed out," Negan began, walking among the crowd. "But it's settled, we're square. Everything is cool. Let Mark's face be a daily reminder to him and to everyone else that the rules matter. I hope that we all learned something today, because I don't ever want to have to do that again."

Negan turned to Carl and walked up to him. Daryl kept his eye on the two as Negan muttered something to the kid and led him away.

Daryl was put back to work in the yard, catching and chaining walkers and dodging teeth and fingers. He had no idea how much time had passed when the main gate opened and a large tan moving truck pulled out.

"Daryl!" He heard, and he walked up to the passenger side where Negan sat. "You seem worried, so I'm taking the kid home," he assured.

"If you do anythin' to him—" Daryl growled.

"Dwight," Negan called, cutting him off. "Daryl needs a time-out. Put him back in his box for a while."

Dwight approached and grabbed Daryl by his sweater, pulling him along as Negan stuck up his middle finger; then, the truck and its convoy continued on.

The two made their way inside and down the halls toward his cell.

"Dwight," they heard from behind.

Dwight stopped and turned them to see Isaac strolling up to them, a lazy grin on his face.

"Doc wants to see you," Isaac informed, gesturing behind him.

"Carson can wait, I gotta take this asshole back to his suite," Dwight said.

"Nah, seemed important. I'll take him," Isaac insisted.

Dwight huffed and passed Daryl over to Isaac before stalking back down the hall and disappearing around the corner.

"Let's go," Isaac said, poking Daryl forward.

"Don't fuckin' touch me," Daryl hissed, pulling away from him and walking along on his own.

Isaac chuckled but made no move to grab him again as he followed.

"Guess you're still mad about yesterday."

Daryl made no reply.

"How about a little gratitude? You heard her—if it wasn't for me, she'd be dead."

"Take your gratitude and shove it up your ass," Daryl sneered.

"Now, Daryl," Isaac tsked, "I hope you have better manners when you talk to my Annie."

Daryl ground his teeth, reminding himself not to give Isaac any more reactions. Not when it came to Anna.

"I'd hate for all my hard work to go to waste just because you've been a bad influence on her."

Don't react.

"I had to refresh her memory yesterday. A bruise should be a nice reminder for her to watch how she talks to me."

Daryl's fists clenched at his sides as they arrived at his cell.

"She really can have a bad mouth."

Don't react.

"Do you have any idea what it took for me to get her to behave?" Isaac asked.

Daryl dug his nails into his palms.

"No, I suppose you wouldn't. Well, let's just say I had to teach her a lot of things more than once. She's smart, but damn is she stubborn."

That Anna was smart and stubborn was the only thing Isaac had ever said that Daryl could agree with.

"Don't get me wrong; being stubborn isn't always a bad thing. In fact, I admire perseverance. Like I told her, it's only a bad thing when she refuses to listen."

His palms stung and his fists were trembling.

"In the beginning, listening was her biggest problem. She could never do what she was told, and she did things she was told not to."

Just shut up.

"It really wasn't easy to change that. I have to admit it, though—I had a lot of fun."

Fuckin' psycho.

"It wasn't always exactly enjoyable for her. Don't you think she's beautiful when she cries?"

Lead shot through Daryl's veins.

"The screaming was a little inconvenient—"

Daryl shoved Isaac against the wall, his fist slamming across the man's jaw once before Isaac pushed him back and leveled his gun with Daryl's head. Daryl glared at his smirking face.

"Let's get something straight, Daryl," Isaac began. "The only reason she's not here—in a cell or as one of Negan's wives—is because I haven't told him about the two of you."

He took a step forward and Daryl took a step back into his cell.

"Pull something like this again, and I'll make sure he knows all about her. As you've probably noticed, Negan likes his playthings to have a little spark—and having both of you here?"

Isaac lowered his gun and reached for the door.

"He'd have all sorts of fun with that," he said as he shut and locked the door.

Daryl sat beside the door, staring into the dark. He couldn't get Isaac's voice out of his head, his words repeating over in his mind. The guy was a psycho—probably even before the world fell apart—and fit right in with Negan.

All he could think of was how Anna had been with this guy for over a month. He'd seen the effect Isaac had on her, even when she thought he was dead. The lack of sleep, the nightmares, the fear. But seeing it firsthand now that they knew he was alive was so much worse.

"See Daryl—what a good girl she is? And what do good girls get, Annie?"

Daryl clenched his teeth, pressed the back of his head into the wall, and closed his eyes. A part of him believed she didn't have to answer those questions and wished that she hadn't. But seeing her shaking, her eyes and face red as she was barely able to speak—

"Rewarded."

He slammed the side of his fist against the wall a couple of times, trying to let out some of the rage building up and twisting his insides. There wasn't a damn thing he could do to help Anna. Trying anything would only make it worse. Isaac had them in his pocket, daring them to step out of line.

It was like Isaac had tied an anchor around their throats and was on the verge of dropping it into deep waters so he could watch them drown.

A door opened and shut outside and soft footsteps approached. He glanced at the gap between the floor and door, a shadow stopping in the light. Furrowing his brow, he waited for the door to swing open. Instead, there was a gentle crinkling as a piece of paper slid under the door and the footsteps hurried away.

Daryl slowly reached for the paper and turned it in the sliver of light, reading the loose, looping cursive. His fingers brushed against something hard on the back and he flipped the paper over to see a key and a match taped to it. He turned it back over and read it once more.

Go now.