The icy morning air hit you and forced you to wear warmer clothes. The peachy sun was still halfway up in the sky with a few clouds in the distance. You loaded the rucksack and the travel bag, went to the gates and were anxious to go the long way. The others were still asleep and that allowed you to avoid goodbyes and explanations. Only Rick and Daryl knew about your departure. A small flock of birds flew over the prison and interrupted the monotony of these guttural sounds: A slight flapping of wings. You felt some tension in the idea of ​​having to retune Philip, but you hoped to find him in a good mood, otherwise it would be very annoying if you tried to distract him from the hatred that consumed him. In the courtyard you saw a pickaxe rise into the sky, which immediately hit the ground. And so on, hit by hit. The man had to find work to distract because it was impossible for him to sit quietly in the corner. Like a hurricane... You walked slowly and looked at your shoes. You changed, became weak but didn't want to. The sheriff framed you with his eyes as he watched you from under his curly, sweaty streaks hanging from his forehead.

"You didn't sleep, did you?", you asked in a low voice, as if you didn't want to disturb anyone or anything, and he answered without interrupting his actions: "I had a few things to do... In short, I couldn't fall asleep."

And you both knew the reason.

"Everything will be fine, things will go smoothly.", you said sadly.

He gave up his grip, wiping his wet palms on his shirt and approaching: "Why are you looking at me like this, with those sad eyes, as if I have to feel guilty?", he replied grumpily and pissed, but still with a certain attitude.

You were not ready to answer, he had surprised you with these words. So he picked up the pickaxe again, resumed his role as a farmer and invited you to leave. Yes, you were sad... Yes, you felt guilty... And he did not know why... Nothing had happened yet, but you knew very well that something would happen soon. The problem was that you no longer intend to kill them or see them die. You went through the forest, thinking back to the scene. You kept seeing the sheriff's face. His attitude, his accusing eyes... You didn't want to destroy the home they had created. He was a father, a friend, a leader. He had responsibility and wasn't afraid of danger. He fought for the safety of all. You were convinced that he was also forced to perform actions that he would never have done in the previous reality. Therefore, he also fought with himself, with his own conscience. It was hard to leave the past behind and focus only on the present and break all the old rules. Humans have the ability to adapt, but in this case it wasn't as easy as it was theorized. Impossible not to collide with those who they once were. You went faster, eager for a hug and reassuring words. After all, you had survived for months alone, had returned home and immediately you went to a crazy and pointless mission. All your fault of course... So you earned respect, demanded understanding and complicity from someone. Friendship, true friendship. Like the one that held the group in Block C together... In the middle of the street, a blockade did not allow you to get ahead. A herd of Walkers was on its way to the prison... For a moment you thought of going back, passing a side street to warn them. But immediately you changed your mind that they could handle it alone, as they always had. So you went away from the hungry herd and took another path, though it was longer. Herds of Walkers had the tendency to emigrate. Before they devoured everything they craved, and when they cleared the area, they would travel... A very simple lifestyle. On the way you were forced to kill some of them. Always bored with the same kind of weapon, it was right to train with the others. After a time that seemed like hours, you slowly arrived at your destination. To your bad luck, it was again Martinez, who greeted you.

"Y/N, finally you are here, it's more than necessary! You should have been here for several days!", the soldier from Woodbury reminded you.

"Well, but I couldn't do what I wanted."

He laughed at you: "Maybe you just can't make it and you're not suitable.", he answered but you ignored him.

"If I were you, I'd go to the boss right away. He found a tank."

You turned around and hoped he was joking, but he was too upset to talk nonsense. Philip wanted to attack. He had decided and got ready. You hastily ignored the other residents who saw you running and went into the Governor's house. You took a long step up the stairs and collided with Milton. He muttered something, but you didn't understand.

"A tank, are you fucking crazy?"

Philip came to you with open arms.

"You're late Y/N, but I'm glad you're alright."

You broke away from his embrace angrily: "Why the hell did you change your mind? We had a plan to hold on!"

He took a step back and became serious: "I see that the contact with them has changed you, I was afraid for your safety and you're treating me like this?"

You've tried to take a relaxed stance. He put his hands back on your arms.

"Tell me what it was like to be there for a week.", he smiled wickedly.

"I don't give you a damn information, you have a tank, it's not a strategic attack anymore!"

"It serves to scare them, so that if someone escapes us, he will be forced to seek refuge in the vegetation, a certain death, if it hadn't been necessary, I would never have sent you to those people. But what you have discovered in the structure will help us."

The Governor wanted to capture them, blocking any escape. Men inside and outside. Then he took you by the hips and approached your body. His fingers pressed against the wound Daryl's arrow had caused. He noticed your expression and lifted your shirt.

"What did they do to you?", he asked, changing his expression.

"Nothing, it was an accident."

But he knelt down to examine the injury better.

"An accident, huh?", he murmured gravely.

"Are you telling me that an arrow ACCIDENTALLY hit you?"

You grabbed his shoulders and forced him to get up again. "It was an accident, I have no reason to lie to you.", you sighed.

"You're angry and I don't understand why. When this war started, you wanted to exterminate them and now you have a tank, there's something that you're hiding from me."

He came so close to your face with his face that you got scared and he chuckled to himself.

"Do not tell me you changed your mind."

Although he seemed calm, this man was able to attack you. You had no time to argue, grabbed the lamp on the desk and it crashed to the floor.

"Fuck, how dare you come here to call me crazy because of a tank, you ugly bitch! A pack of those killers, killed my daughter, they killed Penny, and Haley! Does it mean anything to you?", he burst out, raging: "You went there with a task: Get the most useful information, go there to help us kill them, and I can't believe it, you really don't realize you're fooled by that bunch of assholes!"

You looked at him motionless. He whirled with his hands. The veins on his neck became clearer. He would explode soon. You tried to get closer, but he pushed you away.

"Governor, please don't, we can talk about it in peace."

He interrupted you and laughed: "Sure, let's talk quietly, there's no reason why you react that way, right?"

"Don't twist my words!", you replied.

"No Y/N, don't fuck with me! It's impossible for you to change that in a few days. You hate them! You haven't seen them before, and you already hated them for their actions! Tell me why, give me a reasonable explanation of what happened to you.", he said, inviting me to a 'quiet' dialogue.

The situation was critical, you couldn't think anymore. Philip had his reasons... In short, you didn't want them to die and you didn't want to put them against Philip, but the trouble that towered over him was a serious thing.

"Philip, I do not think they are saints and you both are to blame for this situation and you know it, they will not show up here and kill everyone, you could talk to Rick and find a reasonable agreement."

"You're so naive, these people say they're not going to attack us, they've done it before, it wouldn't be a problem for them again.", he said, moving his head horizontally.

"It doesn't make sense to kill these people."

"What should I do? Ask Rick for permission to kill that bitch with her sword, would you want that?"

You did not answer. There was no solution to this conflict. Philip would never have accepted a compromise. Maybe Rick, but you were not sure. Everything seemed so damn wrong. You dropped exhausted into a chair. The Governor paced up and down the room, following an imaginary straight line.

"Y/N... What should I do with you?", he repeated several times.

You absolutely had to end the discussion and go. He started to go crazy. In those moments it was always better to stay away from him as much as possible. You were not safe there. Then he approached the desk, tapped the wood surface, and looked at you thoughtfully. You wanted to get up, but suddenly he pointed his gun at you. You automatically did the same. You stood still, both with outstretched arms and weapons in your hands.

"I never thought we would come to that point.", he said with a smile.

You nodded. Philip threatened you and you never imagined it that way. You owed him a lot, he had saved you... He had found you after the death of your sister. He was the boss and you were a good soldier for Woodbury. You didn't ask any questions, you just did it. Still there was always something dark behind this facade, something you pretended not to see. You were aware of that, but you did not accept it. And now you were standing there, in front of the man who had saved you, ready to shoot when needed. He tested you... Suddenly he put the gun in a drawer and surprised you. He relaxed again. Although he had calmed down and looked really calm, you couldn't be sure that there would be no other neurotic attacks. He came towards you, but you had no time to retreat when he grabbed you by your neck and pushed you hard against the wall. His hand slowly increased the strength of the handle and you couldn't breathe. So you put your arms against his chest to keep him away, but the Governor just squeezed harder.

"Which side do you belong to?", he whispered angrily.

"Philip, please...", you said in a weak and subdued voice.

"I asked you a question, which side do you belong to?", he shouted, gritting his teeth. A hoarse sound was produced by your squashed vocal cords: "Yours..."

You felt the aching muscles. Even the smallest movement caused terrible pain. You never thought he would hurt you. After all, you hadn't cheated on him, only made some aspects of the situation clearer. His behavior, his actions, his words, it was a lesson... He punished you. You looked in the bathroom mirror, and saw a clearly recognizable strangulation. A large violet stain covered part of the cheekbone and temple when he hit you again before you left. Your lower lip was torn. Philip was a monster and you understood it too late. He had arranged to meet you in the morning to learn about the prison and its organization. You had sworn to be on his side, but that did not allow you to avoid his brutal rage. He wasn't stupid, he had already worked out the fact that you would lie the next day and tell the wrong details. You had to go back to the prison and tell Rick everything. And it was clear that you would die soon. Would Rick have believed you at all? Even if there was a chance the group would choose not to kill you, they would not have accepted you anyway. None of them would have trusted you anymore and therefore you would be alone again. What was important to you was that the others knew they needed to prepare for the fight. The rest was futile... You took your things and reached the street in the middle of the night. You thought it was dangerous to cross that long way walking. You.were in danger of getting lost and not having a good view anyway. It would have been difficult to escape if you ran into a bunch of Walkers. You absolutely needed a car... Besides the fact that it was a much faster vehicle, it also had lights. But you could not steal a car in Woodbury. Luckily there were still some in good condition outside. You took a can of gasoline, slipped out, and climbed over the gates to the south, which weren't guarded. You checked the different cars and decided to take a pickup. It took a while for the engine to roar, but finally it started. You looked at the high gates from the rearview mirror and you knew you would never see them again. It was a farewell. You should have returned before sunset, but here you were, alone, uncertain of your future, on the asphalt road. Thousands of questions crowded in your head. How could you explain to them that you were a spy? How would you have convinced them that what you said was the truth? Why the hell did you return to Woodbury? Philip had managed in a few hours to hurt you as a human being between abuse and verbal violence. You were tired, tired of everything. From the epidemic, from people, from everyday life. You just wanted to sleep and never wake up.

"It's your fault.", he had told you: "It's your fault that your sister is dead. You are incompetent. She trusted you and trust kills you. You trust that man, so you will die!"

And though the words were dictated by the heat of the moment, by contempt and anger, you knew he was right, it was your fault, the death of your sister, your father, of Haley and the group, and instead of getting the Governor to change his mind, you just made things worse. You hit some Walkers on your way but it didn't bother you to dodge the bastards who were walking along your path. You just drove over them in anger, like insects falling on the windshield, covering them with their rotten matter. Suddenly you realized that your hands were shaking. You were excited and nervous... You wanted to calm down, but you couldn't. You lit the prison yard with the lights and saw Rick hurry to the gate mechanism. When it was closed, you got out of the car, covered part of your face with your hair and kept your head down. You did not want him to notice the injuries, but he bombarded you with questions and allegations: "Where the hell have you been? You said you were back at sunset. And where did you get this car from?"

He didn't give you time to answer, pointed the flashlight at you and his expression changed. His voice became calmer, but still firm.

"What happened?"

"It was just an accident."

That wasn't the time to talk to him alone. But he did not believe you anyway.

"Do you really think that I believe you? Don't make fun of me Y/N...", he said, grabbing you and accepting calmer tones in his voice. "I implore you."

You released yourself from his grip. But your words got tangled and formed a knot in your throat. You wanted to say something to him, but you were blocked by yourself. He allowed you to go into the building with him. When he put an arm around you, he saw more bruises on your wrist. At that moment he let go. You didn't know what he had thought, but he let you go. To say that you were not in a crisis would be euphemism. You had resisted to this point and shed no tears yet. Not because of the violence and words from the Governor, but from Rick's eyes, you suddenly collapsed... This was the man whose son you had safed, the same man you trusted. And now it was the man you had deceived. On the one hand, you were relieved that it was night, just as you would have avoided some questions in the beginning, at least for a few hours, just enough time to respond. Suddenly a female voice caught you, making you wince. As you entered the bathroom, you refreshed your face, taking care not to press on the painful areas. The cheekbone was already very swollen.

"Y/N... Are you all right?"

You did not turn around and tried to be indifferent. But one hand rested on your back and implored you to look at the woman. It was Carol. You weren't too surprised to see her lovely expression turn into an almost frightened face when she saw you. And you said the first stupid words that had been presented to your brain as an excuse: "I fell down, it's just ridiculous."

You showed her a smile, hopefully that she would leave you alone or that she understood that you wanted to stay alone. But determined and promptly you took off your shirt and showed her all the other injuries... She said nothing. She just looked at you silently, as if she wanted to read you, to understand something in your eyes. Then Carol crossed her arms and leaned against the sink.

"I know this kind of injury very well, from my ex-husband Ed..."

She knew that at least you wouldn't want to speak at the moment. So she started with a story, the story of her past. You repeated to yourself that you should confess it, you couldn't hide it anymore...

"Where-...", she asked, but her question remained unfinished and wavered in the air.

"No Carol, nobody touched me... Not in that sense."

"Who did such a terrible thing to you?", she asked again, taking your hands. She knew what it meant to be beaten.

"Philip...", you said: "But you know him as the Governor..."