[DISCONTINUED] FIND YOU ( T. WALKING DEAD )

- XIX.

He wanted her to join him for the negotiations. Would she be sitting at a table between The Governor and her own father? Or would she be at the prison itself, waving the white flag and reuniting with those she'd abandoned 8 months ago? She couldn't exactly be a bodyguard, and she felt too uneducated about the situation (and too genetically involved) to actively be a part of the negotiations. Bringing her just sounded unnecessary. "Why?" she voiced her concerns, watching him as he stood in front of the unblinded window.

"If they try something, you can talk them down from it," he answered almost immediately, like he was reading it straight from a script. "A familiar face to help ease the tension. Right?"

"Can't you just take Andrea?"

"I am. Hell, she's the one who set it up," he laughed flatly, but then turned to her with one of his more solemn expressions. "You're Rick's daughter. You're smart enough to know what that means."

"Am I, though?" was her immediate rebuttal, taking another quick drink. "Been feeling pretty useless lately, but maybe that's just-"

"Jack," he disrupted, sending her a disapproving glance. Taking another slow drink, he cleared his throat and added on a short, "Not now."

Gently setting her glass down onto his desk, she then crossed her arms. He was right. Now wasn't the time to discuss their problems. The words just shot from her mouth quicker than she could hold them back, and for that she was sorry. Not that she'd give him the satisfaction of hearing it from her mouth. With a slow breath, she finally decided to voice the most pressing issue poisoning her mind. "Would I have a chance to, you know, speak to them? Off the record?" she asked, tone much softer than before, in the way that she knew he used to fall for much easier. "Andrea got to visit, but I didn't. I was kind of looking forward to seeing-"

"Andrea didn't visit," he corrected her. "She went behind my back and risked everything. It wasn't a social call."

"Well, you know what I mean," she sighed exasperatedly. She wanted to know how her mother's pregnancy went, how the baby was (and if it had been born yet), how Carl was doing. On the other hand, she felt the dying need to check on Elijah. He was probably freaking out - and she knew from experience that that was never a good thing to witness. Especially not with a group of strangers as said witnesses.

"We'll talk about it," he vaguely told her, finally walking back to her side of the room. "I mean, if this goes well, you'll be able to come and go as you please." A hand smacked down on her shoulder. "So maybe you should make sure that tomorrow goes well. I'll see you then."

Brakes squealing, the truck came to a harsh stop. Of everyone packed in the tan truck, Jack was the last person to exit, having to grab a pair of crutches before she could jump down from inside. Door slamming shut, she heard a gruff, familiar voice from behind, "What the hell? Why's your boy already in there?"

"He's here?" Andrea vehemently questioned, while Jack merely turned to face the others. Hershel and Daryl stood feet away and it was presumed that her father must've been inside the feed store, the designated site of the meeting. With a sigh, Andrea stormed inside.

For a moment, Jack wondered if she was supposed to follow. Was it her place to? More importantly, could she manage being in the same room as her dad? Would he be able to handle it? The short answer seemed to be no. In a matter of seconds, she made the decision not to join Andrea, in simple fear of emotions complicating the negotiation.

Once Daryl finally lowered his crossbow and retreated to his side of the road, silence followed. Somehow, it was disappointing. Jack wasn't quite sure what she expected, but the tense quietude they were all sinking into somehow let her down. It was anti-climactic, but the last thing she thought she wanted was a climax. She preferred this uncomfortable silence over an all-out war. (But why did those two seem to be the only options?)