TRIGGER WARNING: Description of rape/sexual assault/violence

To be clear, it is more recounting events/discussion of, as opposed to these events happening in these chapters (although there is some violence).

The next 3 chapters will contain description of/reference to these triggers, so if you have any reservations whatsoever, please just don't read them, and meet me back in the story in 3 chapters time in The Clearing.

This is the dark part of the story I mentioned a couple of chapters ago. This fic was never intended to just be happy fluff (although there is more of that than anything else!) but more of a rollercoaster, so I hope you'll stay with me for the ride.

Chapter 36 - Russian Roulette

She was going to do it.

She was going to tell him how she felt about him.

Pick her moment, casually bring up their closeness, mention that she was feeling a whole lot more than friendship, keep it light, move on, leave the ball in his court. No awkwardness needed, friendship still intact regardless of the outcome (although, if the outcome was that he didn't feel the same, then she'd have to take a little step back from their friendship because this continued level of closeness and intensity would probably kill her).

This was something she was good at, after all.

Coming straight out and addressing stuff, saying what was on her mind without making a big deal of it. But she needed to do it soon, because the more they were all up in each other's personal space (which was increasing on the daily) the less she could rely on her already wavering self-control to stop her from throwing herself at him.

And she absolutely did not want to do that.

It was one thing to have an adult conversation about feelings and figure out if you were on the same page and another thing entirely to come on to someone and blindside them. With the former, she could still walk away with a relatively undamaged friendship and some dignity, whereas the latter left a mess that was a lot harder to clean up.

So.

She was going to do it.

Just... not today.

Things had been so relaxed and easy between them that she was loathe to throw off the balance. But also, it was such a hot and humid day that, while on the bike, the cool air streaming around them had felt so good they'd just kept going and going, much further out than they normally would, all the way to where the woods thinned leading to the settlements beyond. She didn't want to risk pissing him off in case he ditched her - she'd have a snowball's chance in hell of finding her way back to the prison without him.

So, just not today.

"Ok, ok, I'm ready, go again!" Tahlia turned around as she walked, tipped her head back and opened her mouth as a few yards away, Daryl lobbed a berry towards her which she missed, then he followed up with another.

"Got it!" she crowed, chewing on the berry. Then, "Argh!" her arms were up shielding her head as he pelted a handful of them at her face.

With a low chuckle, he tossed two berries in the air to catch in his own mouth in quick succession.

"And that's how it's done." he boasted, giving her a playful shove as he sauntered past.

She laughed and shoved him right back. "Show off."

They had been meandering aimlessly through the woods that day, not doing much of anything, happy to just be in each other's company. There was a small glade ahead, and Daryl tossed his pack down at the edge of it.

"Wanna just hang here for a bit?"

"Ugh yeah, I'm melting."

There was a light breeze at the fringe of the tree canopy, and Tahlia threw herself gratefully down to lie on her back in the cool grass.

"Here." Daryl took off his leather vest and rolled it up before sliding it under her head as a pillow.

Then he stripped off his shirt.

"Too fuckin' hot." he muttered.

He caught the appreciative arch of Tahlia's brow as she unashamedly stared up at him, and he rolled his eyes, balling his shirt up and throwing it at her.

"Fuck outta here." he chuckled.

Tahlia grinned but that quickly morphed into an envious frown as she looked at him and imagined how good the breeze must feel on his bare skin. She tugged at her tank top that was sticking to her in the humidity.

"I want to take mine off, too."

Dropping down on the grass next to her, Daryl shot her a severe look and pointed a finger in warning. "Naw! You ain't allowed to do that."

"Why not?" she asked coyly, tucking one hand behind her head.

Daryl caught his bottom lip between his teeth as his gaze flickered over the curves of her body before alighting back on her face.

"Like I said before," he drawled, his eyes darkening and a devilish smile tugging on his lips. "Too fuckin' hot."

A little laugh of surprise escaped from Tahlia at that and her cheeks coloured immediately.

"Shut up." she muttered shyly as she tossed Daryl's shirt back at him then quickly dropped her gaze.

He found it curious that she was normally so unflappable, yet could get so flustered by allusions to how gorgeous she was – when that was the undeniable truth, and surely she knew that. It made him wonder what other things he could say to bring that cute pink flush to her cheeks, elicit that little gasp, make her duck her head bashfully then gaze up at him through those long, dark lashes. He could certainly think of a few.

Only just realising he was still staring, Daryl busied himself digging around in his pocket and found his pen, popping the lid.

Tahlia wrinkled her nose. "I'm probably too sweaty to draw on today."

Daryl shrugged. "Just gimme your hand, then."

He was lying on his stomach, propped up on his elbows, so she slid her hand across the grass towards him and he took it in one of his, and started drawing patterns on the back of her fingers.

God how she loved the feel of his hands, rough, warm, enveloping.

Needing something to take her mind off the sensations sparking through her body, Tahlia rummaged around in her pack to find her book, propped it up against her bent knees and started to read, quickly becoming engrossed.

After a while, she realised that the pen was no longer moving on her skin, and when she glanced over, she saw it was discarded on the grass and Daryl's head was now resting on his forearm, eyes closed, his other hand still curled around hers, the sunlight through the trees casting dappled shadows on his marked, muscled back.

She couldn't tell if he was asleep or just resting his eyes, but either way, he looked so peaceful that she didn't want to disturb him. Just needing to shift a little to get more comfortable, she moved as carefully as she could, adjusting the jacket under her head, unintentionally sliding her hand in his slightly and his fingers immediately tightened over hers. Reflexively or on purpose, she didn't know, but a clear indication he didn't want to lose contact.

Maybe now would be a good time to tell him. Or maybe it would be a terrible time because she was so charged up from having half-naked Daryl holding on to her.

She sighed. Goddamn. She really didn't want to mess this up.

So, she resigned herself to her earlier decision: Not today.

Focusing back on her book, she read for a long while, then glanced back over at Daryl whose blue gaze was now firmly fixed on her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed softly. "Thought you were asleep."

"Was, for a bit." he replied huskily, not moving his eyes nor his hand from her.

His expression was deep and unreadable, and she swallowed hard, needing to swim to the surface before she drowned in it.

Tahlia raised her eyebrows and said lightly, "You really should let me know when I'm meant to be on watch coz I haven't been paying any attention to what's going on out here at all."

"I know." he replied, his voice low and slow. "Been watchin' ya and y'ain't taken your eyes off that book in least 20 pages."

A little delicious shiver ran through her at the thought of him staring at her for so long, but she managed a playful smile and a pointed look as she said, "Well, it sounds like you haven't been paying much attention to what's going on out here either!"

Daryl chuckled at that. She had him there. Releasing her hand he rolled onto his back and stretched his arms above his head, taking a deep breath.

"Alright." he pushed himself to his feet and pulled his shirt over his head. "It's gettin' on. Better try hunt somethin' to take back with us."

"Yeah, guess we should." agreed Tahlia as she stood up and handed him his vest. Gazing skyward, she pointed in the same direction. "Hey, where do you think that smoke is coming from?"

Daryl followed her gaze and shrugged. "'Lot closer to the road here than usual. Lotsa houses dotted 'round this area. Probably some camps. Settlement just up the way, too. Could be comin' from any of 'em. Probably shouldn'ta come this far, maybe not that safe." he realised, frowning, suddenly annoyed at himself for not being more careful. "Y'good? Let's go."

They had only been walking a short while when Daryl stopped abruptly, cocking his head to one side as Tahlia ambled past him, humming quietly to herself.

The hair on the back of Daryl's neck stood up, and his skin prickled in that way it did when he was tracking and could sense something nearby. He wasn't sure what was out there, but they were definitely not alone in this part of the woods.

Suddenly Daryl leapt forward, closing the gap between him and Tahlia, and clapped a hand firmly over her mouth, his other arm wrapping tightly around her shoulders to still her. She stopped obediently, freezing against his urgent grasp, her own hands lightly closing over his forearm across her chest for reassurance. Slowly he edged behind the cover of a large tree, then dropped his hand from her mouth and pointed into the bushes several yards ahead. Nothing happened for a few long moments, but then came the sound of gruff male voices arguing and laughing. Daryl held Tahlia firmly against him with one arm as they both stood completely still, while his other hand closed over his crossbow hanging on his shoulder, waiting to see if he needed to draw it, although they were in the thick of the trees and he was confident they wouldn't be seen.

Three rough-looking sturdily built men appeared in their line of sight, sporting beards, leather jackets and jeans, swagger in their step and brag in their voices. The second and third man were arguing loudly. "... can't believe you strung up my catch. I was gonna have her before you bulldozed in!"

"You and ya damned blue balls, you'd have been done before ya got your pants down, I did you a favour! Stop ya embarrassin' yourself!"

"Well, I got me a sweet little piece of ass – her momma nearly killed my buzz, screamin' out like that!" The first man cackled. "Felt nearly as good laying her sorry ass in the dirt after. Felt good laying 'em all down and burning that shithole to the ground!"

Daryl narrowed his eyes at the trash talk, his stomach tightening in disgust, and subconsciously pulled Tahlia closer to him, his every nerve ending firing in fierce protective mode.

"None of ya got any game at all, surprised you haven't taken to tryna fuck the biters!" came the cocky drawl of a fourth man, just emerging into their line of sight. "Bet you mangy fuckers would love a bit of rottin' dead pussy! Better than the shit you woulda had before the Turn and all!"

At the sound of his voice, Tahlia gave an involuntary gasp, and Daryl's hand dropped from his crossbow to clap over her mouth again as he frowned at the slight noise. Her hands tightened on his forearm, her fingertips digging into his skin, and he felt her body stiffen and begin to tremble, her heart stuttering a wild beat in her chest. Daryl watched as the man appeared in full view now - walking with a self-important strut, he was average height but solidly built, a pot belly evident under his leather jacket and low-slung belt. His thin lips were curled into a mocking snarl in his ugly face, and his dark, curly, unkempt hair couldn't hide a long, twisted ropy scar that marred his face all the way from his hairline down his neck, a mark left behind from something sharp and jagged.

Tahlia was now shuddering so violently Daryl could practically hear her teeth rattling. He shot her a questioning look, but her eyes were firmly fixed, unblinking, fearful, on the scarred man in the bushes ahead. Dropping his hand from her mouth again, he wrapped her in his arms as tightly as he could, and she pushed back against his body like she wanted to sink right through him and disappear out the other side. Suddenly, he had a visceral flashback to the only other time she'd been terrified, shaking in his arms.

The gun. This must have something to with the gun.

"S'alright, I got ya. S'alright, I got ya." Daryl pressed his lips to her ear and breathed a low mantra over and over until the men had long passed by.

When he finally released her, her knees gave way, and she stumbled, just managing to catch herself and stand upright, wrapping her arms protectively around her waist. There was no trace of the usual playful smile around her eyes, instead they held a haunted look he'd never seen before.

"Y'alright?" he murmured, giving her a soft shove on the shoulder to bring her back to the present.

Tahlia eventually managed to meet his gaze, nodding faintly.

"We should get out of here. We should go. We really should..." She broke off, her eyes darting wildly around her like she was the hunted.

"Uh-uh." grunted Daryl, concern on his face. "Tell me what's goin' on."

Shooting a nervous glance behind her, she shuffled anxiously from foot to foot, an explanation the last thing on her mind.

"Hey!" he barked, trying to shock her into focusing. "I seen ya hold ya shit together in a field full of walkers, yet one look at some ugly asshole in the woods got ya shakin' like a jelly?! Tell me what the hell that's about!" he demanded, anger starting to steam from the hissing pit of fear inside him.

"We should really be getting back to the prison." she deflected, tentatively stepping around him, but he blocked her, and took a breath to calm himself.

"Ain't goin' nowhere 'til ya tell me what's goin' on."

Something was eating her, and until he found out, it would eat him too. Devour him alive.

"Ya know that guy? He the guy with the gun, the one just like Rick's? He hurt ya, Tahls?"

Tahlia bit her bottom lip so hard she drew blood. She wanted to run, wanted to run so bad that she could barely stand still. But being near Daryl was the only thing that was holding her together.

He caught her hands in his and held them firm.

"Please, Tahly. Ya scarin' me." he implored quietly.

Tahlia's eyes flicked up to his at that admission, then she sighed uncomfortably.

"Ok." she nodded, then continued, her words soft and unsteady. "Ok. So... that guy with the scar... his name is Rosco." An involuntary shiver of disgust ran through her body at that. "Back when Michonne and I were... out there, Rosco and two other guys ambushed us. Not any of those other ones just now, I don't recognise them. They jumped us, they beat Mich, so badly... then walkers were coming, a lot of them. There were too many for them to handle, so they left Mich for dead and... dragged me along with them."

"That what ya mean when you and Michonne say you were 'separated'?" questioned Daryl, brow furrowed.

Tahlia nodded.

Daryl waited.

Tahlia stalled.

"Then what, Tahly? Then what happened?" he pushed gently.

Pulling her hands from his, Tahlia wrapped her arms around herself again, then snuck a nervous glance up at Daryl. "They... kept me for a few days - then I had a chance to escape, so I did. I... I killed Rosco's buddies, but I didn't... couldn't... I was too afraid of him. So I ran. I really thought I'd never see him again... but..." She shrugged helplessly.

Daryl's face contorted into a mask of fury. "You're tellin' me that motherfucker held you hostage?!" He started to pace angrily back and forth, an outlet for the sudden surge of rage inside him. "I'ma fuckin' kill him!"

Then he stopped and pointed a finger at her, his anger needing somewhere to land, and misplaced, landed on her. "Why y'ain't never told me 'bout any of this?! Fuck ya keepin' this to ya'self for, huh?!"

"Doesn't really make for pleasant conversation." Tahlia replied shakily.

Registering her affliction, he quickly crashed back into his senses and immediately softened towards her as he drew a hand over his face, hard.

"Shit Tahls, no, course it don't. Just... just wish I hadda known, is all." He started to pace again, but less aggressively than before. "Ain't just gonna let 'em walk, though. Not after knowin' that. Not after hearin' how they were talkin'."

Tahlia looked like she might throw up. "I... I don't think I can..."

Seeing her like this was absolute torture and Daryl clenched his jaw. "He ain't gonna hurt y'again, Tahly, Ain't gonna let him. I swear it."

Studying the girl cowering in front of him, the fear washing over her was something he'd never seen on her before. But there was something else hanging heavily on her too, some other emotion that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He caught her shoulders and held her at arm's length.

"Did a real number on ya, Tahly, didn't he?" he said gently, and then with trepidation, "What... happened to ya? When you were with 'em?"

Her eyes were wet and wide as she whispered, "You don't want to know."

At that, a spear of dread twisted in his gut. "I do." he said sharply, dropping his hands from her. "I wanna fuckin' know what he did to ya, then I'm gonna rip his fuckin' head off."

"Can't. Can't tell you, Daryl. Not you."

"Ya can." he told her firmly. "Ya can coz it's me."

"But that's what I'm afraid of." She shook her head miserably. "I'm afraid that... if I tell you, you won't... be able to look at me the same again."

Daryl managed a small hollow smile despite the chill in his blood. "Ya kiddin'? No matter what ya tell me, I'm always gonna look at ya like you're a giant pain in the ass."

A tiny laugh bubbled from Tahlia at that, a momentary respite from the churning dread inside. "Daryl Dixon. You always know just what to say." she murmured fondly.

His tone grew serious again. "Y'know - it's just words." he said assuredly. "Whatever it is, it's already done. Already part of your story. So, you tellin' me about it now? Just words. And more often than not, words feel better when they're outta ya."

She looked at him in surprise, touched by his reassuring advice, but then she just shook her head wretchedly.

Daryl shifted in agitation. From the way those pricks were talking, he thought he could hazard a pretty good guess as to what might have happened to her, but for some reason he felt like he needed to know for sure, needed to confirm exactly what she had been through, needed to see every single mark that life had left on her, no matter how painful, because every hurt of hers was his now too.

"Alright, ya don't gotta say it. I can guess." he started quietly. "Three fuckin' assholes who like to beat up on women?" He felt bile rise in his throat as his mind conjured up images of what she could have suffered. "They do that to ya? Hurt ya? Rough y'up?"

She nodded, and that thought alone was excruciating, but he forced himself to continue, forced himself to keep it together for her.

"And the shit they were talkin' just now... maybe they... did they...?" He screwed his face up in anguish over what he was trying to ask. He couldn't bring himself to say the word rape so gave a vague hand gesture instead. He hoped like hell he was wrong on this one, but assent was written all over her face.

"All of 'em?" he couldn't help but ask, aghast. Her look conveyed the affirmative.

Equal parts pain and fury tore through Daryl's gut, at an intensity he'd never felt before, like his insides were being shredded and burned. A low ferocious growl escaped from deep within him, and he gritted his teeth as rage fizzed inside him and his fists clenched.

"I'ma tear them to pieces." he vowed vehemently, knowing that, as sure as the sun would set, those men would die today.

But then he caught the tormented knot of her brow.

"There's somethin' else?" he breathed in disbelief. How could there be more? How could she have endured more?

Squirming, Tahlia tipped her head back and took a few long, steadying breaths. Then finally, she met his gaze again, drawing strength from him, and nodded hesitantly. "Yeah. There was all... that. But him... Rosco? He was next level. He liked to play games. His favourite was... Russian Roulette."

Daryl drew in a sharp breath. "What?" he questioned incredulously. "Like..." he held his fingers up in the shape of a gun. "Like, one bullet, see if it fires?! Sick fucker!" he cursed in fury, ready to run down the asshole right that second and rip his insides out. No fucking wonder she'd been terrified when he'd handed her Rick's gun with one bullet in the cylinder.

"But..." Tahlia's soft voice cut through his ire. He froze at that word, staring at her, a wretched look on her face. "But..."

That still wasn't even it, the thing that was eating her.

"Tell me." he breathed, feeling like he was teetering on the edge of a precipice. "Just words, Tahly. Just words."

With an audible swallow, she continued, holding her voice as steady as she could manage, but unable to hold his gaze. "But... he wouldn't just hold the gun to my head. He would..." her eyes flickered around, searching for the words that she'd never said out loud before. "... he would also... assault me... with it, then pull the trigger, when... when... it was inside me." She squeezed her eyes shut in humiliation, the words heavy and grimy as they crawled from her, and she was consumed by a sudden wish for the earth to swallow her up right then and there, close over her and crush her into dust.

And then everything she'd said caught up with him and Daryl was cold, so cold, the painful kind. Like he'd been submerged in water so icy that he couldn't draw a breath, and tiny daggers stabbed at his lungs when he tried. And he could hear her, but she sounded so far away, worlds away. Then, all of a sudden, his rage, red hot and earth-shattering, exploded and propelled him back to the surface like a rocket launcher, and there was only fire and brimstone and he would burn the world to the fucking ground for her.

A primal roar ripped from inside him, and he launched himself towards the nearest tree, punching it violently, rivulets of blood snaking down between his knuckles, then proceeded to slam his foot down on a rotting log on the ground, smashing through the side with his boot. He caught hold of himself and whirled around to face her. There was so much fury pulsing through him, he felt like he could have taken on an army of walkers. He had never felt bloodlust like this before, he so badly wanted to kill, maim, destroy... but the sight of her standing in front of him, staring intently at the ground, looking deflated and small, quickly doused his fire.

Right now, she needed him.

In a voice so tiny, she then said, "The worst bit was that when he'd do that I'd wish so hard for death, for it to all be over, then... when the gun didn't go off... I'd be crying with this huge wave of... like... gratitude-" the word felt dirty on her tongue, "-towards him because I was still alive. It was really messed up." She shook her head and heaved a sigh, then continued. "It was such a long time ago, more than a year now, I thought I had left it all behind me. I just never thought I would ever see him again... I let myself believe he was dead."

"He will be. Real damn soon." vowed Daryl, his tormented eyes searching her face.

He recognised it now, that thing hanging around her. Shame. She was ashamed of what had happened to her as if she were the one at fault. That recognition knocked him heavily back into the memory of his own demons, because he'd felt the same before. When his daddy used to beat him. He'd hide the bruises, the marks, as if they were stamps declaring his own shortcomings. Shame clinging to him for days as if he'd brought it all on himself, as if he deserved it.

"Don't look at me like that, Daryl. Please don't look at me like that."

"Ain't lookin' at ya like nothin', girl." he said quickly, dragging her into his arms, squeezing her tight, feeling her shakily clutching him in response. "Ya still the same to me. Still Tahly. Ain't nothin' changed. And... ain't none of that your fault. All that mighta happened to ya, but not coz of ya. Ain't none of that on you."

Gently releasing her, he swiped a rough thumb down her cheek, even though she wasn't quite crying.

"Ain't nothin' different, nothin' at all." he promised. "'Cept... 'cept now I got somethin' I gotta go take care of."

Tahlia gazed at him. She had hoped that she'd never have to speak about her ordeal again, especially not to him, and the words had felt like shards of glass in her mouth, each one sharp and slicing, but they were out now. And out of all the people that could have been here with her, that she could have had to tell, she was now glad that it was Daryl. He was so damned strong, it made her feel stronger, too.

"Ya don't gotta come. Stay here, I'll come back for ya when it's done."

Tahlia's chest constricted with emotion. That might be the sweetest thing that anyone had ever offered to do for her. "I want to come with you."

"Don't gotta." he repeated, although he'd prefer it if she stayed close by his side at all times from now on until forever.

"I do. Have to do this."

"Yeah?"

She gave a decisive nod. "Let's do this. But, Daryl, can we just make it quick? I didn't know those other guys... And him... I don't want to draw that out either, I just want to get it all over with."

"Ya sure?" Daryl would have preferred to slowly peel the flesh from that piece of shit's pudgy body and listen to him scream for mercy.

"I'm sure. I don't want to play any more games with that asshole."