Hi lovelies! I don't always update weekly, but at the moment I have a few chapters written in advance, so here you go. It picks up right where the last chapter ended, so give that one a re-read if you need to.

Here's a TW for physical abuse. It's retrospective, but wanted to give you a heads up just in case.

I don't own The Brave or any of it's characters... But I wish I did!

Chapter 52

"Tell me about these scars, Jaz."

Dalton hoped that she wanted to share the details with him, but quickly thinking better of it, he didn't want to push her into sharing something she wasn't ready to share.

"I mean, if you want to tell me how you got them, that's ok. But if you don't want to tell me, that's ok too." He clarified.

Jaz didn't respond straight away. She inhaled and exhaled long and deep several times, thinking it over before finally confiding, "I've never told anyone about them. Elijah asked once, but I brushed him off. I've never hidden them away, but I guess it's always been pretty clear that I don't want to talk about them."

"Like I said—"

"I want to tell you." She interrupted him softly. "You've seen all my scars. Every single one of them. You're the only one who has seen them all."

He watched her face and he could see her struggling for the words.

Her eyes dropped down to her hands, she was clenching them so tightly they were nearly white. This was a big step for her. She was about to reveal her biggest shame. She'd never met anyone she had even thought about revealing this to, never met anyone she'd even considered revealing this to.

But she'd never met anyone like Adam Dalton.

"It was my Dad." She whispered finally, her voice shaking as she did so. Her eyes were still cast downward, still staring blankly down at her hands.

Dalton clenched his jaw. He'd always suspected this based on a few details in her file that only he was privy to, and she had alluded to as much when they were in DC seeing Xander, but her confirmation was still staggering… and heartbreaking.

"He hated me the moment I was born a girl, and that never changed. These were all from him, or a direct result of his actions at least," she continued after a breath. "This one," she indicated pointing to circular scar on the inside of her knee, "was from his cigars. He thought it made him look more important by smoking a cigar instead of a cigarette. He laughed each time he did it."

She took a deep breath before continuing, "The first time I cried for hours, it hurt so much. But other than it being cleaned and bandaged by my mother, it wasn't even acknowledged that it had happened. The following times, I cried less and less each time. I learned that the less I reacted, the less pleasure he took from it. It was clear that no one cared."

"Not even your mother?" Dalton asked incredulously, but gently.

Jaz shook her head, "She wouldn't even look me in the eye as she cleaned me up. I think she was worried about what he might do to her.'

Dalton's nostrils flared and his breath felt tight in his chest. Hearing the truth from Jaz's mouth was much worse than just suspecting what had happened.

But she wasn't done yet.

Pointing to the longer scar next to the cigar burn, "He threw his ashtray at me. I was sitting cross legged on the floor, and I was blocking his view of the TV. The ashtray shattered on the floor in front of my leg and a sharp corner rebounded and gave me this gash."

Her hand moved to the outside of her knee, where a longer, deeper scar cut through her smooth, tanned skin. It was the largest scar on her body. The many scars that Arthur's minions had left behind were small, and while they would remain, they would never be as obvious as this one.

"This is from when he threw me against a mirror because he caught me looking in it."

Dalton instantly clenched his hands into fists. He was careful not to put Jaz off continuing her story, but he couldn't completely hide how he felt.

"I hit the mirror face first, and put my hands in front of my face to protect it as it shattered. I had minor cuts on my forearms and I was too caught up in the blood on my arms that I didn't notice the big piece of glass sticking out the side of my leg. My Mom had to take me to the hospital for that one. I needed thirteen stitches."

"What did she say to the nurses and doctors when they asked what happened?" Dalton asked gruffly.

Jaz was looking down at her hands again, and he watched her shaky intake of breath before she answered him, "She said I was running around the house and just tripped. I was still young so they didn't even question it."

Dalton could feel his blood boiling. How any parent treats their child that way is one thing. But how another defends that abuse, or denies it, is just as bad, if not worse.

"After that, it didn't stop, but the visible signs weren't as obvious. There were a lot of bruises, a broken wrist, but it was all put down to just being a clumsy kid. I woke up one morning and my long hair was gone and I was left with hair a similar length to yours. My mother couldn't look me in the eye, and unless he was being abusive, my father didn't even acknowledge my existence. I left as soon as I could and I haven't seen them since."

His heart ached for what she had been through, and needless to say, his own initial thoughts towards her father were of blind rage and fury. What he wouldn't give to be left alone in a room with that man. But he tried to keep a cap on that in front of Jaz.

Dalton unclenched one of his fists to reach out for her hand; unfurling her own fingers from where her nails dug into her palms and encasing them in his. She finally looked up and met his eyes, seeing the simmering anger in them, but also the tenderness of his love and empathy.

"I'm ok. It was a long time ago." She said, wanting to soothe the rage she knew he was feeling.

It shouldn't have fucking happened in the first place—is what Dalton wanted to scream out. He knew little about being a parent, but he knew that was not what family was about, and he had his own issues with family.

Instead he just pulled her towards him and wrapped his arms around her. The thought of Jaz being hurt fucking killed him. It had been bad enough in Tehran, but now knowing what her childhood had been like, tore him apart. And he wondered how ok, Jaz really was. He would bet that some of her nightmares stemmed from her father.

He held her tightly, never, ever wanting to let her go. He felt her cling to him in return and finally relax in his arms, burying her head in his neck.

Jaz had never shared that with anyone before. Not one person, and although it didn't change anything and it didn't make it better, it was a relief. A relief that someone knew. A relief that someone knew her story. That someone was important enough to know her story and that she was important enough in return. When she had first met Adam Dalton, she wouldn't have guessed that he would be the one she would share this with. But here now, wrapped in his warmth and inhaling his soothing scent, she couldn't imagine sharing it with anyone else.

Jaz lay curled up on Dalton's chest, her steady and deep breathing letting him know that she was asleep. He wished the same could be said for him, but he was wide awake.

He could not let go of what Jaz had told him earlier. He could feel his blood boiling under the surface after finally having confirmation of what Jaz's life had been like.

He lay looking at the ceiling, gripping Jaz tightly in his arms, clenching and unclenching his jaw trying to remember what Xander he told him to do when he had these dark thoughts. He could write in his journal, but that would mean putting the lamp on and he didn't want to wake Jaz. He tried concentrating on his breathing, inhaling and exhaling deeply, but that wasn't working either. Instead, he gave Jaz a quick squeeze, kissing the top of her head softly, before easing her off his chest and onto the mattress. He crept out of the bed and bedroom, channelling his inner ninja, and headed straight for the back veranda, gulping in the clear night air as soon as he opened the door.

He walked straight over to the edge, placed his hands on the railing and tilted his head skyward. The blanket of stars shining above him were a catalyst in allowing him to breathe; his breaths having been clipped since Jaz first told him about her scars.

He had his own issues with his own father; even long before the car accident that had killed Jessie, but he had never witnessed his Dad intentionally abusing anyone. He had never laid a hand on any one of them, and even though he knew his Mom had put up with a lot, she had never been tainted by his hands, or his fury. Even when Jessie had been killed, he had been distraught. He knew it was his fault. He accepted blame instantly and had shown regret ever since. That's not to say Dalton had let him back in his life, but he knew with certainty that his father would have never injured someone deliberately. With intent. For his own deluded pleasure.

Dalton was enraged at what Jaz had shared with him. He'd come into contact with some absolute mother fuckers over the years, but in his eyes, none more so than Jaz's Dad—and he hadn't even actually met him.

Closing his eyes against the images of how he wanted to punish him, he concentrated once again on his breathing. In and out. Slow and steady. He allowed the cool night air to wash over him and diminish some of the tension he was feeling.

He had worked with Xander on trying to control this darkness inside of him, and he was determined not to take a step backward.

He wasn't the least bit surprised when five minutes later he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind. Letting her warmth assist in his soothing, he leaned back into her slightly and took comfort in her.

A few moments later, he felt Jaz place a kiss between his bare shoulder blades and she whispered, "Are you ok?"

He huffed out a laugh, "I should be asking you that."

"And yet it's you standing out here staring at the stars. I know you have something on your mind."

His nostrils flared and he took another long breath in. Leaving one of his hands on the railing, he let his other grip the hands joined on his stomach, allowing her closeness to help alleviate his unease.

"Truthfully," he started, "I'm so angry I couldn't sleep."

After a moment's silence, he heard Jaz's raspy voice, "About what I told you earlier?"

He just nodded and felt her arms tighten around him.

"I feel ridiculous, because it was you that it happened to, not me. But just the thought of you having to endure all that… it makes me—it makes me just so fucking angry."

Jaz knew that even just his admittance of his feelings towards this was a step forward from where he had been at the end of their deployment. His signature move was to act first, explain later. But clearly his sessions with Xander had paid off somewhat because here he was, explaining his anger to her.

"It was a long time ago." She tried to allay.

"Doesn't matter. It shouldn't have happened AT ALL." Dalton yelled into the night sky, thankful that they were so secluded up here as he shook with anger.

Jaz let her arms fall to her side hearing and feeling him like this. Yes, him showing his emotion and sharing his feelings was a good thing, but the fury she could feel radiating off him she empathised with and knew well. She had felt it herself numerous times in her life and she knew when she did, she liked to be alone. To work through it herself.

She took a step backwards, meaning to leave him to his thoughts, when he surprised her by spinning around and pulling her to his chest. He held her tightly, crushing her against him as tightly as he could, and it wasn't until he felt her arms wind around his waist to hold him just as close that he let out another breath.

When Dalton had felt her arms slip away, the loss of her warmth jarred him. He needed her in his arms like he needed oxygen to breathe. It was like this was the only place he knew she was safe. The images he had of her in his head, of the childhood she must have had, replayed themselves over and over and he breathed her in, just trying to replace them.

He ran one hand through her silky, chestnut hair, falling in waves down her back. He knew now why she kept it so long; even given the job they do. He loved her hair. He loved when one of her covers required for her hair to be loose, it was such a striking feature of hers, he couldn't imagine her any other way.

Burying his head in that very same apple fragranced hair, he whispered barely audibly, "I'm sorry."

Surprised, Jaz pulled her head away from his, to look up into his glassy eyes, "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

"I shouldn't have yelled. I hope you know that wasn't directed to you."

"I know that."

He nodded, thankful she knew him well enough to know what he was angry at. He's not sure how to deal with these emotions at the moment, but having her right in front of him, safe and under the stars, was as ideal as it was going to get for now.

He didn't want to take away from what it had meant to him that she opened up. Or take away from what it meant to Jaz to finally be able to share it with someone.

That was what was important right now. And they would deal with this as best they could. Together.

A couple of hours later, Jaz now lay awake staring at the ceiling.

She looked over at Dalton who had managed to fall into a sleep, albeit fitful, after admitting his anger earlier.

Now, she couldn't get what she had shared with him earlier out of her head. It had been a relief to actually share it with someone after so long; after keeping it all bottled up for so many years. But at the same time, it brought it all back. The early fear. The pain. The devastation. How she had grown to just expect the abuse. How she had just accepted that that was her life.

She had watched Adam with his sisters and their kids. He may not think they are close, and that may be true, but underneath it all there was love amongst them. He loved his sisters and his nieces and nephews, and they loved him in return.

She had seen it with Preach and his family and even McG had it with his Mom and Amir with his parents. But she had no experience of that to speak of. She hadn't even felt remotely cared for until she joined this team. It had been strange and she had been stand-offish to the point of annoyance. Elijah got through all that, and though she hadn't realised it at the time, Dalton had too.

Now that she had shared some of it with Adam, it wouldn't leave her alone. The memories taunted her and seeing how angry it had made Adam, almost made her regret telling him.

Almost.

Realistically, she knew it was right to share it with him. They were communicating and sharing and this was a big part of her past. He had shared his past with her, she had needed to do the same with her own. She couldn't deny it was nice to finally let some of it out and let someone in. And she knew that Xander would be pleased she was doing just that.

But she was back to now not being able to switch her brain off, and she didn't want to go back to where she had been a couple of months ago.

Laying watching the shadows of the night play across the ceiling, she thought about the best way to deal with that.

It was early when Dalton woke the next morning, and even though Jaz was laying there in his arms, her breathing deep and even, he knew she was awake.

"Hey, did you get much sleep?"

Jaz shook her head softy.

He leaned over to press his lips against her forehead before saying tenderly, "Talk to me."

When Jaz didn't answer other than to snuggle even closer to him, he took it upon himself to try and seek an explanation.

Running a hand up and down the length of her arm, he spoke softly, "You know your scars don't bother me. All that bothers me is how you got them and who gave them to you."

Jaz remained still, just listening to his soothing voice.

"They're scars for a reason, Jaz. They're there to remind you of all the things you lived through, the moments that challenged you. The moments that made you who you are. You're strong. Not many people would bounce back the way you have."

"I've had a few great people to help me bounce back." Jaz whispered softly.

"Yeah, you have. Certainly from Tehran anyway. But what about everything with your Dad. If I'm the only person who you have told, then you haven't had the support you need to deal with that."

"I've survived so far."

"Being able to survive doesn't mean it was ever ok, Jaz." He rolled away slightly and lifted her chin so her weary eyes met his as he continued, "Your past has not defined you, destroyed you, deterred you or defeated you. If anything it has done the exact opposite. It has strengthened you. You're a fighter in every sense of the word, just not for ideal reasons."

She didn't know what to respond to that, but Dalton wasn't quite done.

"If I've learnt anything from Xander over the years, it's that the more you share, the less power it gives to whatever pains you. I think we've both kinda realised that the last couple of months. Like he has continually told us, sharing and communicating is so important in our healing process."

A small smile washed over Jaz's face as she took in what he said, "It's like you read my mind. I've actually been laying here all night thinking and came to the conclusion that I would like to talk to Xander some more. This topic was on my list from my first meeting with him, but we shelved it temporarily to deal with everything else. I think I'm ready to tackle some of this now."

A similar smile washed over Dalton's face too as he gently placed his lips on her forehead once again, "I'm glad."

She looked up into his eyes again for confirmation, "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I think it's a great idea. I'm a big advocate for Xander and the work he does."

"I remember." Jaz stated, remembering how annoyed she was when she first met Xander, knowing that Dalton had sent him over to check on her.

"Surely you've forgiven me for that by now? Look how well it worked out." Dalton teased.

Jaz just laughed that deep raspy laugh that he loved so much. Her eyes looked slightly brighter than they did a few minutes ago and she's glad that Dalton agreed with her wanting to see Xander again.

Sobering slightly, she spoke another point on her mind, "You know you can't come with me this time—to DC that is?"

Dalton nodded, "Yeah, I know."

If he showed up with her in DC, where Patricia, Hannah, Noah and who knows else were lurking, it would be hard to explain why he was accompanying her. There was that giant rain cloud hanging over them, threatening to pour if anything gave it weight.

They still had to play this very carefully.

"I'll be able to see Amir though."

"Let's get some breakfast and then we can ring Xander and see what he has available."

Jaz was happy with this plan. Telling Dalton the history behind her scars had been difficult, but it was the catalyst she had needed to kick start all of this. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but she now knew it was necessary.

Jaz sat on the kitchen bench after breakfast, nursing a cup of coffee and watching Cass swim around happily in her bowl while Dalton was outside clearing away the remnants of last night's fire.

She had her phone in her hand and after another big gulp of coffee, she dialled Xander's number. He picked up within a couple of rings and with a deep breath she launched into what she wanted to ask him.

Just as she hung up the phone minutes later, Dalton came back into the cabin and looked at her expectantly.

"Xander was happy to hear from me. He said he'd been wondering when I thought I would feel ready to tackle this."

"Can he fit you in?"

"Yeah actually, he has time tomorrow and then a couple of days following. I can either rent a car and leave this afternoon or try and catch a flight later tonight."

Dalton was momentarily stunned that she would be leaving today, but quickly shook it off knowing how much she needed this.

"Fly. I'll worry less and then I can spend a little longer with you before you go."

Jaz lowered herself down from the kitchen bench and walked towards him until she was right in front of him, "It's only for three days."

"Right. Just three days."

"You going to miss me?"

"I mean, probably not. If it were three weeks maybe, but three days… that's nothing."

She slapped her hand against his chest and laughing, he grabbed her hand and held it behind her back, ensuring she was flush against him.

Two can play at this game.

"Right. Three days is nothing." She taunted him, while she pressed herself even closer so their hips collided and her breasts brushed against his chest.

Feeling him harden against her hips, she smiled coyly, "Since it's only three days, we can wait to take care of… that." She glanced down to where their hips were fused together before glancing back up to where he was licking his lips, the sudden blood flow to his nether regions making him look a little pale.

"Nope," was all she heard as he crushed his lips to hers. He took full possession of her inviting mouth, massaging it, biting it and making love to it. He guided her to the couch, gripping her tightly so their hips and lips never broke contact, before lowering her down and exploring her; massaging her, biting her and making love to her.

He kissed and cherished every single scar on her body, so tenderly and lovingly, it brought tears to Jaz's eyes. He left her with absolutely no doubt in her mind as to how much he loved her. And the way she responded to him made the depth of her feelings for him crystal clear.

The first man in her life may have let her down horribly, but he intended to make up for that in every way possible.

I obviously took creative licence with the story behind Jaz's scars as we never got to learn more about them on the show - F*** you NBC!

I hadn't been intending on Jaz exploring this part of her story or sending her to see Xander until a bit later on in the story, but after meeting Dalton's family and the kids asking about the scars, it seemed to be the natural progression, so I changed what I had written.

I hope it reads ok, I would love to know what you think.

Thank you for continuing to read this, I appreciate it so much and love waking up to your comments. You're all the best. Much love XXX