Chapter Notes:

Please remember the warnings on this story! Trigger warning for mentioned domestic abuse, rape and torture!

OOO

Seven years before …

"I can't!" Carol huffed, casting her eyes down to where her fingers plucked anxiously at the blanket covering her.

"But you can't live like this either. It's getting worse! Every time you're here it's worse!" The officer - who was sitting by Carol's bedside - insisted, true concern for her well-being twisting his features.

There had been a lot of police officers who had tried to convince her to escape the hell she in which she lived - men and women - counselors, social workers, but Officer Rick Grimes had become a constant presence over the last few months whenever she had to be admitted to the hospital. He'd made it a personal mission to help her whether she wanted him to or not.

Carol hesitantly shook her head, a thundering throb beating behind her eyes at even that small bit of motion. It was painful enough she'd blundered in the already embarrassing situation. She'd hoped never to reveal her personal life to anyone, regarding what went on behind closed doors - her own private hell. What her husband did to her, she guarded carefully, so the words I can't had been the closest thing to a revelation she'd ever uttered.

When the clinic staff had no longer believed her excuses about accidents concerning door frames or clumsiness on the stairs, they'd begun calling the police. It was how Carol had become a case of domestic abuse - God, how she hated to be a statistic - and the questions had become more insistent, just like their solicitations to file a complaint and advice to sue for a divorce. They'd dug more deeply into her medical background, previous hospital stays, adding them to her case file, a documentation of a nightmare which she'd lived for years. Her examinations had become more in-depth, photos taken of her injuries, and that too was added to her growing file. Carol had already lost every speck of dignity she'd once had; this was just the cherry topper. Nevertheless, as long as she refused to admit to the abuse, the police could do nothing, their offers of help falling on deaf ears.

"Carol, please! I can help you … let me help you!" the man offered with a hopeful expression on his worried face. Over the last months, it had always been him who'd come when the nurses had called the police, and he'd always stayed longer than necessary, just like he did now. Rick Grimes had given her his card more than once - he'd even written his private number on the verso - but Carol had always thrown it away before she'd left the hospital.

This time, she was here because Ed had bruised her cheekbone and broken some of her ribs. Not too bad, considering Carol had been grateful the cheekbone hadn't been broken and there would be no need for reconstructive surgery. It had been a blessing in disguise. The nurses had also cared for the latest inscription Ed had given her with his trusty razor blade. The word bitch scarred over on the left side of her bellybutton now had a companion on the right - ugly - which had become infected.

In the end, Carol would refuse their help and go home after a night or two in the hospital - as always - and try to accept her terrible fate as best she could. After all these years, she needed to double her efforts to learn to cope with her situation. Things didn't change for someone like her no matter how much others might wish otherwise.

"I'm fine," she lied. "You should go. It's already late, and I'm sure there's someone waiting for you at home," Carol whispered warmly as she forced a smile to her trembling lips. The officer cared, but Carol's case - she felt - was a waste of time. He should offer his help to someone who would appreciate it, someone who had a chance … unlike her.

Reluctantly, the officer stood up and slowly paced towards the door, waiting, hoping Carol would change her mind. He paused in the doorway, his hand white-knuckled where it held firmly to the knob, his gaze locked on the picture of abject misery lying in the hospital bed. "I'll come back. I'll be here the next time … hopefully it won't be a visit to the morgue, Carol," Officer Grimes said before he released the doorknob, and left in defeat.

"Good night, officer," Carol whispered to the empty room as she watched the door close behind him. Her eyes drifted shut, her fingers closing tightly over the little card in her hand, the pain awash on her face unbearable.

So many people had offered her help, but where would they be once their job was done? Even if she could bring herself to go through with a divorce and the court proceedings for the abuse - which the police had assured her would send Ed to prison - in the end, she would be alone with Sophia, penniless, homeless. She couldn't send her daughter's father to prison and cause Carol to lose the only home her precious child had ever known.

"Mommy, can we find a new Daddy? Can we?" Sophia had asked her once and the question had hit Carol harder than any punch her husband could ever deliver. The memory brought fresh tears coursing over her cheeks. Sophia had barely been four years old at the time, so little, innocent and naive. Carol had only shaken her head with a forced smile and distracted her daughter with a new puzzle. It had been almost eight years since that day, and instead of a better life, things had only gotten harder over the years. The times of healing herself were in the past, and stays in the hospital had become more frequent.

Ed only tried to be a good dad when other people were around, and, at least, he didn't lay hands on his daughter. The alternative would be not to have a daddy at all, because Carol knew if she could somehow rid herself of Ed, she'd never allow another man within two feet of her. Besides, what man would want an ugly, spent, single mother, useless in all ways possible? Carol had no other choice but to stay with Ed and protect Sophia for as long as possible.

Sleep came unexpectedly easy that night in the hospital. Perhaps it was because Carol was exhausted, or the painkillers dulled her senses enough to afford her a measure of rest, but in an odd way, she felt safe there. Sophia was safe as well. Carol had made sure of it.

OOO

Michonne stood in the kitchen, phone in hand as she waited impatiently for the door to open. Rick was late again and hadn't bothered to answer his phone when she'd called. Situations like these had become a common occurrence over the last few months and had left her flummoxed. Every few weeks he would be late - usually on a Friday - with excuses which left more questions than answers. It was beginning to make her suspicious.

"Where the hell have you been, Rick?" she snapped as the door finally opened and she was met with her husband's wide, frightened eyes.

"Whoa, 'Chonne … darling … I was at work. Don't scare me like that!" Rick huffed, his hands rising in the air as if he was a wanted criminal.

"Your shift was over two hours ago," she fumed, "and don't lie to me about an emergency! I was worried and called Shane when I couldn't reach you. He told me you wanted him to knock off early after the last call came in … which you answered and went on alone. Shane's phone seems to be in working order, yet yours doesn't. Weird, huh?" she said, arching one raven's wing brow dubiously.

"I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong," Rick insisted as his hands came to rest gently on her shoulders.

"Who. Is. She?" Michonne replied urgently.

Rick released her and sucked in a deep breath, his head bowing in defeat. He knew he couldn't hide it from her any longer. He had to tell his wife about Carol, the woman he'd come to care for so much. "You wanna know who she is? Fine, I'll tell you." He pressed a kiss to her puckered brow. "Still not what you think, though."

OOO

The next afternoon, Carol had left the hospital - against medical advice - and had driven home. At least Ed allowed her to use the car to make her way to the hospital and back, along with money to pay her medical bills in cash … so as not to leave a trace.

Carefully removing the bandages, she'd taken a shower while Ed had been holed up in the living room in front of the TV, suffering a hangover from the previous night's binge. The house was deathly silent aside from the drone of the television, but she wouldn't let the peace lull her into a false sense of security.

Trying to make herself look as acceptable as possible - no easy feat due to the extent of her injuries - her fingers worked gently to apply a bit of foundation and concealer. She was grateful for the meager cosmetics Ed would condone, thankful for a way to hide herself … or rather hide what he did to her. Carol stared into the mirror, her image reflecting the construction site which was her face. Her eyes were dull and lifeless, no longer holding a bright gleam of hope and vitality. There was no hope for her, hadn't been for a long time. That Carol didn't exist any longer.

Despite the layer of make-up, Carol grabbed her sunglasses, wincing as she tried to put them on. She quickly decided against them, unable to bear the pain they caused. Instead, she tried to hide her face behind her long curls and took more of the painkillers she'd stockpiled in the medicine cabinet. She left the house to pick Sophia up, looking forward to seeing her daughter again. Yet Carol was also afraid of seeing the worry on her little face. The girl was old enough to understand what was going on, and it wasn't possible to hide the bruises on her face.

Over the years, it had become a habit for Sophia to have a sleepover at the Samuels' almost every weekend. The widower who lived a few houses down with his two daughters had always been a great help and a shelter for her daughter. Her best friend was Mika - the younger of the two. Lizzie was her classmate, but Sophia seemed to flock towards Ryan's youngest child. It made Carol wonder sometimes.

Despite being twelve years old, Sophia didn't seem to want to get older. While other girls were thinking of boys and fashion, her daughter still played with dolls and wore shirts with unicorns and rainbows. The way Sophia still clung to her innocence and childhood reminded Carol of Peter Pan - the only kid who never had to grow up. For Carol, it would be fine if this behavior was due to her daughter's personality, but Carol feared it went much deeper than that. She feared Sophia was afraid if she grew older, her father would turn his abuse on her. Maybe the girl also recognized the way her father sometimes looked at her.

Carol was grateful Sophia had precious Mika as her best friend. They were bosom buddies, and the ten-year-old was the sunshine which brought light into her little girl's life. The widower - Ryan - was a good man. Still grieving the loss of his wife, he was nevertheless unflappable, solid as a rock and full of hope. He always took care of Sophia when times were at their worst and Carol could always count on him when she needed to stay at the hospital for one more night. Knowing what Carol had to suffer, he'd also offered her help time and again. But she'd refused him, always smiling and pretending everything was fine.

Carol enjoyed spending time with her daughter, and loved every second they could share without Ed there. Whenever her husband was out of town over the weekend or at the bar, the house would be filled with warmth and safety, enabling them to relax and watch movies or play games. But whenever Ed was home on the weekends, Sophia would have a sleepover at Mika's - it was a silent agreement.

OOO

"The next time you get a call about her, you will let me know, Rick," Michonne said, her jaw set with determination.

"What? Why? Don't you believe me?" Rick asked.

His wife shook her head. "I do believe you, but I want to meet her. Maybe she will listen to me."

A bittersweet laugh escaped the officer's lips, knowing how closed off Carol was. "She's barely spoken more than two words to anyone. I'm the only one she doesn't send packing immediately, which is why the hospital staff calls me when she's there. It took me months to earn just the tiniest bit of her trust. She doesn't even talk to Marie."

"The psychologist?" Michonne asked, her eyes widening. Marie worked at the department, and had the uncanny ability to get people to open up to her with hardly any effort at all. Young and old from all walks of life; they all loved her, and the young psychologist made a difference. "Everyone talks to Marie."

Rick nodded. "Not Carol." He sighed and raked a hand through his unruly hair. "I'm the only one who knows her real name - only her first name - but at least she told me. To everyone else, she is Nancy Miller from Montclair who is just passing through, paying her medical bills in cash."

"You have to let me try, Rick. Please," Michonne pleaded. "At least let me try."

OOO

Carol's face was a patchwork quilt of green, blue and yellow, a macabre testament of what she'd suffered. The injuries slowly healed, but she knew it was only because Ed had left her alone for a few days. Carol's past experiences told her the calm wouldn't last, however; and she was sitting on a powder keg. Ed's tension would build over the week - as always - and would be ready to blow as the weekend approached. Once again, she would be the convenient victim upon who he would unload his fury and bestial cruelty … as always. When the house was empty and clean, Carol took advantage of a rare moment of privacy and allowed herself a cup of coffee before she headed for her husband's computer.

Carol had always been torn between blaming herself for Ed's punishment and the strange feeling something was wrong with him. The insane look upon his face - with every swing of his fist or unwanted thrust into her body - always sent a cold shiver down her spine. He enjoyed what he did and it made her lose hope that times would get better someday, because no matter how hard she tried to satisfy him, every attempt made it worse instead of better. It also seemed to feed his fury, fuel his rage, when she tried to hide the pain he caused her. More than once, he'd demanded her screams, and Carol couldn't comprehend the man she'd married.

It hadn't been the desire to know him better, but rather the need to learn about the monster's intentions when she'd begun spying on what he was doing on his computer for hours every evening. Perhaps if she knew what was on his mind, she would be able to please him and her life would improve.

Ed had forbidden Carol to touch his precious computer, but every morning - after Sophia had left for school and Ed made his way to work - she ignored his rule and switched it on. It had taken a few tries, but eventually, she'd typed the correct keyword and gained access to his personal data. Crushing disappointment had weighed her down when she'd found nothing noteworthy. None of the files had revealed anything pertinent, and even the browsing history had been blank … blank! It was more than enough proof to know he was hiding something. She would continue to observe his browser history, waiting for the day he'd make a careless mistake. Her eyes widened exponentially, and she leaned forward for a closer look, unable to believe her luck.

A hand raised to cover her mouth, trying in vain to stifle a sob. Carol must have arrived at the very end of the internet where there were more perversions she hadn't even known existed. The more websites she visited, the more she felt her grasp on sanity loosening. Tears ran freely down her aching cheeks and burned like fire as pictures and depictions of torture flashed across the screen. Her body trembled and her breath caught, nearly choking her, over and over again. There were videos of sexual torture and pictures of torture instruments she'd never seen before.

Ed had also been on a discussion board to read about torture methods and good practices such as choking to the state of unconsciousness. Ed had done this a few times and every time Carol had been sure, someday he would take it too far. When everything became just too much, she closed all the tabs and took a deep breath, feeling shocked and relieved at the same time about having the melancholy satisfaction of being proved right about her suspicions.

Carol fought to calm down. There had to be more to this, she thought, and turned her unanswered questions to Google. She found websites about role-playing, another article about mutual consent in a dominant/submissive relationship, code words and rules, but that wasn't what Ed wanted. He needed real pain without constraints or limits … her pain. Realizing there had never been anything she could've done to prevent the abuse, her last spark of hope died.

Carol deleted the browsing history - hopefully, Ed wouldn't remember he hadn't deleted it yesterday - and turn the computer off. Taking a calming breath, it slowly became clear to her there was no hope. The horrible foreshadowing that someday Ed would probably kill her, sent a shudder down her spine, but she had to survive somehow. She had to protect Sophia. Carol had to escape with her daughter … before it was too late.

OOO

"It didn't take you long to wind up back here," Rick determined quietly as he sat at Carol's bedside. "I talked to Dr. Lozano. She told me you were still driving?" He shook his head. "This time your breastbone was broken and it caused … a cardiac contusion and arrhythmias," he said the last a bit hesitantly, trying to remember the correct terms the doctor had used. "What's next, Carol?"

Ed had kicked her so hard, this time she would've actually gotten away with the excuse that she had been in a car accident. Nevertheless, she'd driven herself to the hospital, even if she had barely been able to breathe.

"Who is this?" Carol asked brokenly, ignoring his scolding tone as her tired eyes wandered to the strange woman at the officer's side.

"I'm Michonne … Rick's wife," she whispered and took a seat at the other side of the bed, squeezing Carol's hand gently.

"Why are you here?" Carol asked quietly, silently fuming at Rick. She'd trusted him - even if it was only a little - and he'd brought a stranger to visit, divulging her secrets in the process. She felt so embarrassed and more than a bit disappointed in him.

"She wants to help you, Carol. We want to help you and we already have a plan." he explained.

Brows knitted in a frown, Carol's skeptical gaze roamed slowly between the two of them, but her mouth remained firmly closed until Rick broke the silence.

"We have a guest room. I normally wouldn't be allowed to do something like this, but I can't say no when my wife wants to take one of her friends in to help."

"It's not big, but it should be enough until we can find an apartment for you," Michonne continued.

"I have a daughter," Carol whispered, every word an exhausting effort. The strong pain meds fought against the unbearable ache in her chest, but they also made her dizzy and tired.

"Is she safe at the moment?" Rick asked anxiously.

Carol nodded. "She has a sleepover at a friend's house."

Michonne retained her grip on Carol's hand and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. The women couldn't appear more different, but Carol felt a connection with the officer's wife, She felt as if she could trust her, and it frightened her that she couldn't explain why. "It doesn't matter … there will be room for your daughter too. A friend of mine is a lawyer. She specializes in family law, and we told her about you. She would like to represent you in court."

"But I can't pay-"

"She's willing to do it Pro Bono," Michonne added, trying to soothe her new friend.

Overwhelmed by the offer, a genuine ray of hope - which sounded like a perfect plan - tears coursed over Carol's cheeks. The officer and his wife were virtual strangers, but nevertheless, they cared enough to reach out a hand to help her, ready to move forward if only Carol would agree. She knew she had to get away from Ed before he killed her, and if there was a chance to escape, she couldn't refuse.

"Carol? You still with us? Are we gonna do this?" Rick asked when she seemed to get lost in her thoughts. She nodded, her eyes fixed to the white blanket, knowing a simple nod had never meant so much … never changed so much.

OOO

Chapter End Notes:

I know, this is only the first part of the backstory, but I had to introduce Carol's situation at this time. I hope you're not disappointed.

Hugs and kisses to CharlotteAshmore, who's always having my back! I'm so grateful to have you in my life!

Also, thank you to Geektaire for reading this over! Your skills are priceless!

Special thanks to Amanda Hawthorn for being so awesome and inspiring!

And a big thank you to the readers for still enjoying this story and the wonderful feedback! I wish you and your families had a great Christmas!