Disclaimer: Nothing but the words belong to me (all recognisable people, places, etc, belong to their respective owners and shall be treated as such) luckily, I can still play in the sandbox of wondrous imagination!

A/N: Sorry this is late guys, got busy with school. And the next one is probably not going to be for another few weeks because I'm moving, but I know you lovelies can tough it out.

Timeline: Takes place not long after chapter 4 and after M remembers his name.

~O~

There is a perfectly straight, two inch long scar in the middle of his chest from where Julie had stuck him with a knife. There are two round puckered scars on his left shoulder from gun shots delivered by Perry and General Grigio. There are other similar scars on his upper body from unremembered altercations. His face has several thin scars across his cheeks and nose that are barely visible now, and his hands are littered with the tiny marks from god knows when and what. Needless to say, R is not unfamiliar with scars, he pays them little mind and care and they tend not to bother him on a day to day basis. Julie, on the other hand, gets a faraway glazed look in her eyes whenever a particular scar or two catch her eye. She'll run her fingers other them, lips gently parted and he can see her memorizing the change in skin texture. It's endearing and sweet to him, that she would care enough to want to memorize marks on his skin that even he doesn't bother with.

There is one, however, that he's never let anyone see, in fact, he himself hadn't noticed it until long after his heart started beating and he slowly became more aware of his body.

It was in the crook of his right elbow, usually hidden by long sleeves and hoodies, he barely noticed it under the spray of water in the shower. He hadn't noticed it until one day, one day when the sun was beating down and the house was boiling even with all the windows open and he wished for just a moment to be dead again so he wouldn't feel like he was melting. He had removed his button up shirt and lay down on the floor in the living room, planning to hide in the shadows and read a book until the sun decided that the earth –or maybe just their little corner of it- was crispy enough. He was stretching his arms above his head when he saw it.

It wasn't altogether impressive or gruesome; barely two and a half inches in diameter maybe, faint against his skin flush with life and crescent like in shape. What was important, what made his heart lurch, was the fact that he could count each individual place where teeth had punctured the skin.

It was like getting punched in the stomach the sudden lurch, like the floor had dropped out from under him suddenly and he was free-falling. His view got hazy and his breathing became shallow and…

R was pretty sure he had passed out because when he came to the temperature had dropped and the sun was setting. In fact, it was rather pleasant, but all he could feeling was his skin crawling and his stomach churning and tightness in his throat that wouldn't go away.

He had hidden in the closet. It had seemed like a valid idea at the time, he still had no idea why, but the cramped space, with his legs tucked to his chest, arms wrapped around them and face buried in his knees seemed to make everything easier to manage…god he was a nutcase.

If there were still therapists he was sure he'd make one very, very rich with the amount of help he probably needed.

He had stayed there for what was probably a good couple hours until Julie and Nora got home from the school where they'd been teaching the kids all day. He had left the closet, splashed some water on his face and gone down to join them as if nothing was wrong.

That had been two days ago, and he was back in the closet after a nightmare had him fleeing the bed he now shared with Julie. Everything was too exposed, too easy to get to…here, in the dark, he was safe.

"R? R, where did you go?" he could hear Julie's sleep slurred voice. He'd woken her up without a doubt and he itched to climb back in bed and wrap her in his arms, but his limbs were lead and refused to react. He heard her huff and the squeak of bed springs before the sound of bare feet on carpet reached his ears.

"R, if this is some zombie thing, can we do it in the morning?" when he didn't respond he heard her voice pick up slightly, "R?"

He took in a deep breath through his nose, but every time he tried to get up, the scar in the crook of his arm seemed to burn and flashes from his nightmare –which he was getting more and more sure about being memories- came screaming back and it was all he could do not to hyperventilate.

Every muscle in his body went tight as a bow string when the closet door opened, catching on that pesky corner of the carpet before Julie forced it the rest of the way open.

"R?" she sounded puzzled and he knew he would be too in her place, as it was he was fighting every instinct in him screaming to get up and run until he couldn't run anymore. Logically, he knew he was safe, not so logically, he was trapped in the land between waking and dreaming where his nightmare ran amok.

"R, what's wrong?" her hand was a balm as it settled on the back of his neck and he felt that this was becoming too common an occurrence, he did have a penchant to completely lose all sense of reality sometimes. He was sure Julie and Nora were sick of it…

"Remembering." He breathed out between clenched teeth.

"What are you remembering, R?"

God he hopes he doesn't lose it as he looks up to see her watching him, it's still warm out and she's in a thin blue t-shirt and shorts so short it's sinful. Meanwhile, he's hiding under long sleeves and boxer shorts. It doesn't take a genius to figure out he's hiding something and Julie knows him too well to believe any thin lie he may spin.

"H-how…how I…" he shakes his head, a very zombie like growl building up in the back of his throat without his control. Still, Julie waits patiently, her fingers threading through his sweaty hair and he focuses on that instead of the fear clawing at his insides like an animal.

"I remember how I…died." That last word comes out through pure stubbornness alone. Talking about his time as one of the Dead was easy, but it seemed even thinking about how that came to be physically hurt.

To her credit, Julie didn't even seem to pause when he spoke, her fingers kept up their gentle caress, even when her eyes flashed with something akin to sadness and fear.

"Is that what you were dreaming about?" of course she knows about his nightmares, she's right there after all. Still, R only nods, unable to speak through the tightness in his throat that makes him feel like he's drowning.

"Do you want to tell me?" she's sincere and that alone makes him want to spill his guts, but looking in her eyes, he sees that she also is terrified to know. She's scared, she doesn't want to know what it's like to die, at least she doesn't want to know the fear of being eaten alive.

With the memory of gore spattered teeth and the fire of poison in his veins and the steady, but terrifying sense of your entire body shutting down fresh in his mind…well, he wishes he didn't remember.

So he lies, "Not really."

And Julie nods, but he can see the relief in her eyes and he knows he'll talk to someone about it, maybe M…er, Marcus. He'd know, or any of the other former undead he's gotten to know like the trio from the zombie neighborhood he'd met a few weeks ago, Green Eyes, or Abby, the little Asian girl Mary and the tall bear like man Robby.

Julie…he could get away with keeping her from those horrors from his past. After all, he promised to keep her safe, even if he was keeping her safe from his own memories.