Between the Thorns

Chapter 9

**Nothing is graphically described but there is some implied sexual violence in this chapter that might be upsetting for some people. If you would prefer to skip it and wait for the next update feel free to do so.

Big thanks and love to everyone that left a review.**

Sleep had come quickly the first time around. But after his strange confrontation with Jean, Daryl lay awake in the dim light of the room for what felt like hours. He tried to occupy his mind with other subjects, planning his escape from the sanctuary being the favorite among them. But each time his mind and body started to relax, thoughts of the woman that was lying with her daughters in the next room kept creeping back into the corners of his mind.

He could hear her crying. It was obvious Jean was trying to muffle the noise. But Daryl could still hear her short gasping breaths that came in between the sobs she was trying to muffle with her pillow. He threw the blankets off and swung his legs down off the couch three different times with the intent of going in to check on her. Each time Daryl forced himself back onto the couch by telling himself that whatever problems Jean was having were none of his business. He was escaping this place the first chance he got. After that he would never see Jean again. He couldn't allow himself to get attached to her. Even if she did smell like toothpaste and lavender body lotion and have the softest skin he had ever felt under the calloused tips of his fingers.

Morning came with a jolt. Daryl woke up disoriented, a feeling that was common for him when he slept in a place that didn't have any windows. The lights were on but both bedroom doors were shut, leaving him alone in the living area of the apartment. Daryl's bladder forced him up and off the couch. He headed for the bucket that Jean had indicated was to be used as a makeshift toilet. As his bad luck would have it, just as he was taking his dick out of his pants to do his business Jean walked out of her bedroom. The noise she made sounded like a cross between the yip of a fox and the caw of a frightened bird. The small pile of folded clothing in her hands fell to the floor with a quiet thump.

"I'm so sorry," she gushed, clamping her hand down over her eyes and quickly turning her back to him. The door to the girls room started swinging open and Jean was quick to put her hand out, keeping it from opening the rest of the way. "Hold on a second," she cautioned her daughters. Not only did she not want her girls to embarrass Daryl by walking out on him while he was relieving himself, she didn't want them to see how beet red her face was. She had seen Daryl's body before. When Dwight and some other idiot stooge dragged him into her apartment and dumped him in her bed she had gotten a good look. But seeing him at full attention was a different matter entirely. From just the small glance she had gotten it was obvious that his manhood was as well built as the rest of him.

"Mornin'," Daryl told her. Jean mumbled good morning back to him but it was on the tip of her tounge to say that good god yes it was the best morning ever. Thankfully Daryl finished up rather quickly and tucked himself back into his pants. Jean's daughters were released from the bedroom. A few moments later they were all sitting down at the table together. Jean and Daryl were both trying to pretend the awkward encounter had never happened.

"We only do hot breakfast once or twice a week," Jean explained as she handed Daryl a granola bar. He nodded, noticing with some amusement that her girls both broke their different flavored breakfast bars in half and then split them so that they each had the same thing. Jean didn't make much more conversation except to tell him that the small pile of clothes she had brought from the bedroom were for him if he wanted to change. He didn't. She kept her eyes on the granola bar she was picking at, the color still rising in her cheeks. Her shirt was cut low enough that he could see a hint of her clevage. And the tops of her breasts were just as red as her face. Not that Daryl was looking. He just happened to notice she was looking a little flushed. He told himself to stay away from her. If she was hot, she might be getting sick. And he didn't want to catch a cold from her.

Before they were even done eating the meager breakfast in front of them, there was a knock on the door. Both girls leaped up from the table and started grabbing for their shoes. Jean swung the door open to reveal the same woman that had come for the girls the morning before. Jean stuttered and stammered for a minute, hesitating in the doorway.

"I was going to take the girls to work with me today," she finally told the woman.

Daryl didn't speak up but he could guess Jean's reasons for wanting to keep her daughters close. She was afraid of that creeper that hassled her and the girls the day before. It made him angry and he pushed down the strong urge he had to find the man and beat him into a bloody pulp. Daryl thought her keeping the girls with her was for the best. And though he didn't really want to admit it, he was glad his job didn't start for another day so that he would be with them. Daryl wasn't going to go looking for the man, even though he really wanted to, but if that prick so much as breathed in their direction again he was going to get a fist to the face and a boot up his ass.

"MOM!," Rose complained, eager to protest. "I'm going to lose my points for the day if I go with you!"

"We were supposed to make pasta today!," Lily whined, adding her voice to her sister's loud complaints.

"You know I'll keep an eye on them for you," the woman in the doorway added.

Jean sighed as she looked back and forth between her two girls. She felt torn. At the moment she didn't want to let them out of her sight. But not only did they earn points working in the kitchen, they got to eat for free while they were down there too. That was really the only reason she agreed to let them work in the kitchen in the first place after John died. Feeding two growing girls was a full time job. As a mother, it felt wrong letting them out of her sight. But Jean reminded herself that there was always an armed security guard on duty in or near the kitchen area. So the girls might even be safer there than they would be alone with her.

"For the morning only," Jean finally agreed, "After lunch you have to come to work with me or come back to the apartment." Most of the guys that were on hiatus from the outposts slept in late since they weren't required to work while they were visiting the Sanctuary. So letting the girls go to the kitchen for the morning felt safe enough.

Rose and Lily hugged their mother. Both girls were practically bouncing with excitement. They yanked their shoes on and hurried out the door before Jean could change her mind about letting them go.

TWD

"You might have to sit outside for a while," Jean cautioned, "I have a few people coming in today for massages and I think it might be a little awkward for them if you're in here." Daryl simpy nodded his head. Jean had noticed that he didn't speak unless he had something to say. She had been actively trying to avoid staring at him. Because every time her eyes met his she started blushing all over again. But as she pulled the corners of a clean fitted sheet down over her massage table she watched him out of the corner of her eye. She didn't know how it was possible but he looked even better with his clothes all rumpled up than he had with them freshly laundered.

"You ever had a massage before?," Jean asked. She told herself she was just making conversation. But as soon as the words were out of her mouth she was already thinking about getting her hands on his body again. She sighed at herself, thinking that she was so lonely it was actually quite pathetic. Jean tilted a small glass candle to the side to make it easier to light as she waited for Daryl's response to her question.

"Nuh-uh," he grunted. Daryl had recieved a few massages, but not the type that he figured Jean was talking about. And he had certainly never gone to a spa or a salon or wherever people went to get something other than their dicks massaged. Daryl didn't even really like people touching him, though having Jean rub her gentle hands over him sounded more appealing than he was willing to admit. His back was still sore from the uncomfortable position he had been forced to sleep in while Negan kept him locked up.

Jean smiled at him as she tucked her dark hair back behind her ears. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out an elastic band and started to gather her hair up into a ponytail. When her arms lifted, the shirt she was wearing lifted up to reveal a slice of her stomach. Her jeans hung low enough on her hips that the top corner of a small tattoo was visible. Daryl was fairly certain that it was the top half of a purple and teal butterfly. And he was also sure that he was now going to have the lyrics to that annoying Brad Paisley song Ticks stuck in his head for the rest of the day. Because like the song said he wanted to see the other half of that butterfly tattoo. The best thing Daryl could say about that was at least he wasn't repeating the lyrics to Easy Street over and over again in his mind anymore.

"How much d'people pay fer somethin' like that," Daryl asked, lifing his hand and gesturing towards the massage table.

"First time's always free," Jean quipped. Daryl didn't laugh at her joke, but he did smile. The corners of his mouth turned up just slightly before he broke eye contact with her and started picking at a loose string on his jeans. "I can tell your back is bothering you," Jean added. Her tone was more serious now, the words filled with concern that Daryl was surprised to hear. She sounded genuine. Her words and the fact that she had noticed he was having a problem made him feel warm inside. No one had taken the time to worry about him in as long as he could remember.

When he didn't speak up right away, Jean turned around and began poking through a shelf of lotions to find the one she was looking for. Her face was getting hot again and she felt silly and stupid for offering up a free massage in the first place. Daryl didn't exactly look like the type of man that would want any sort of beauty treatment. She was getting angry at herself for even asking when he finally spoke up.

"I'd like that," he said. His response was like everything he said, simple and to the point. There was no teasing or sexual innuendo in his tone. Jean was so used to the men around the Sanctuary coming on to her. Some of them were more subtle than others but the invitation of a sex was always present in their words and the posture of their bodies when they spoke to her. It felt good to be spoken to like she was an actual person instead of being no more than choice piece of meat.

Jean turned around, her hands nervously fidgeting with the lotion bottle she was holding. She wasn't sure what she meant to say. But before anything could come out, she was startled by a loud noise outside. The door of her salon swung open, pushed with so much force that later Jean would find the doorknob had left a hole in the wall behind it. Lily's face was red and she was breathing fast and hard.

"Momma!," the girl cried. Jean ran for her daughter and grabbed the girl by the shoulders.

"What's wrong?," she asked. Jean could already feel her heart beating in her ears. "Where's your sister?," she asked the girl.

"He was waiting for us in the kitchen!," Lily cried, " That bad man! He hit Miss Lynn over the head... Then he grabbed Rose!"

Jean felt the ground pounding under her hightop sneakers. But everything passed by her in a blur. She had made it down to the kitchen running on pure adrenaline. And she supposed she must have dragged Lily with her because the girl was there and Jean had a death grip on her hand. Miss Lynn was sitting on the floor in the kitchen, a little rivulet of blood running down the side of her face. Two of the other women were holding onto each other, watching in horror as the man that was supposed to be on guard tried to get the door to the supply closet open.

"I can't shoot it open or I might hit her instead," the man hollered, looking as helpless as he probably felt at the moment. Jean shoved him out of her way and started pounding on the door. As soon as Rose heard her mother outside the door the girl started screaming for her. The terror in her daughter's voice sent Jean into pure hysterics. She yanked at the locked door handle. When that didn't work she started pounding on the heavy door with her fists and screaming. She almost turned on Daryl and attacked him when he grabbed her by the waist.

"Move back!," he told her. It was not a request. As he spoke he physically yanked Jean away from the door. Then he lifted his leg and started kicking the door. He kicked as close to the knob as he could. Jean was screaming behind him. Her younger daughter had rushed into her arms and the girl was crying so hard snot was bubbling out of her nose. Daryl gave the door one more hard kick, hearing the satisfying sound of the wood cracking under his boot. The door opened out, but he had managed to crack the doorframe enough that when he grabbed the doorknob and yanked hard, the door pulled open.

The only part of Lily that Daryl could see were her feet, since the man was lying on top of her on the floor. Daryl grabbed him, one hand grasping his shirt and the other grabbing a handful of his greasy hair. He yanked the man up and away from Jean's daughter and slammed him down as hard as possible onto the kitchen floor. Daryl didn't wait for the man to try and get up. He slammed his boot into the man's stomach. He grunted, his arms moving up to try and protect his head and face. The coward was brave enough to attack a little girl but was too scared to fight a grown man.

The man's shirt hung open and there were red scratches on his chest and face, where Rose had tried to fight him off. His pants were pushed down around his thighs, revealing what passed for his dick along with his hairy white ass. It made Daryl sick to think about what that man had either already done or had been getting ready to do if he hadn't shown up. He pulled his leg back and kicked the man again, this time in the crotch. The man groaned loudly and doubled over, his hands moving down from his head to cup his now throbbing genitals.

Daryl kicked the man again, aiming for his kidneys. Then he stomped down hard on him a few times. Once he was good and softened up, Daryl kicked the fucking pervert right in the mouth. Blood and a few of the man's teeth scattered across the floor of the kitchen. Somewhere in the background Daryl could hear Jean's daughters crying and he could hear her screaming. Not for him to stop, but for him to kill the man he was beating.

The loud crashing boom echoed through the kitchen, reverberating off the walls and the large metal sinks. Daryl stopped mid kick, the sole of his boot squeaking against the tile floor as he pulled his foot to a hault. Negan was standing in the kitchen. A few of his goons and the guard that had been trying to push the door in were hovering around behind him.

"What in the fuck is going on down here?," the big man barked. Daryl turned to look at Jean. She was clothed from the waist up in only her bra. Rose was wearing her shirt. Jean had both girls wrapped in her arms, holding them against her chest. Her face was streaked with tears and her hair had pulled loose from the elastic she had tied it back in.

"That fucking pig was raping my daughter," Jean screamed, pointing at the man that was lying bloody on the ground. Negan crossed the small distance between himself and the man. At first Daryl was nervous that the big man was coming for him. But Negan leaned down and began screaming in the bloody man's face.

"RAPE IS AGAINST THE FUCKING RULES!," he screamed. Not only was rape against the rules. Jean's daughter was just a little girl. And that was worse than against the rules. That was some sick shit. "YOU ARE ONE SICK FUCK!," Negan added.

Negan was pissed because a child got hurt. Really fucking pissed. But he was even more pissed that the stupid sick pervert made him look bad. Everyone was going to find out about this. People were already gathering in every doorway of the kitchen, trying to see what all the noise was about. Shit like this made Negan look like he didn't have any control over his men. Because of that, now everyone needed to see what happened when someone disobeyed the rules. Negan stepped back.

"Carry the fuck on then," he told Daryl, motioning toward the man on the ground. Negan knew Daryl was a tough mother fucker when the man had the balls to take a swing at him. But even he was surprised when Daryl didn't hesitate at all to follow his instructions. He went right back to kicking the life out of the disgusting pervert on the floor.

Negan turned towards the man that was supposed to have been keeping control of the kitchen and the common area. The young man looked scared. He probably thought he was next. But Negan would just knock him back down to working for points for a while. "When Daryl is done with that fuck, string him up out on the fence," Negan ordered. The man bobbed his head and dropped to one knee, still looking like he was ready to piss his pants.

That was done. Now Negan just needed to figure out a way to get Jean and her girls out of the kitchen as fast as possible without making an even bigger scene. He handed his bat off to one of the men behind him. Then he walked towards the woman, skirting around Daryl and the man he was kicking to death. When he reached towards Jean she recoiled from him.

"S'alright," he told the woman. She reminded him of a frightened animal. Her eyes were wide and she looked ready to claw him like a feral cat if he tried to touch her. "We need to get your daughter somewhere safe. Get a doctor for her." Jean nodded but she didn't release her death grip on the girl. "Give her to me. I'm going to pick her up so she doesn't have to walk." Jean nodded again, but she also jerked the girl away and put her body between them when Negan reached for her.

"Don't touch her!," Jean cried out, the hysteria and panic showing in her voice and the way it broke and squeaked. Negan took another tentative step towards them, trying to decide if it would be better to try and coax the woman until she allowed him to help her or if it might be best to drag them away as fast as possible even if it meant making Jean scream. As he paused, trying to make his decision, Negan felt a hand on his arm. People made every effort to stay out of his personal space. And they certainly didn't touch him without permission. If he hadn't been so grateful to see Daryl there, ready to help him with Jean, he might have gotten seriously pissed.

Daryl moved towards Jean slowly, leaving bloody bootprints behind him. Her younger daughter was quick to accept his help. Lily rushed into the man's arms and hugged him around the waist. He patted her head, then told her as kindly as possible that she would have to let him go so he could help her sister. Jean's eyes were still wide with fear. But she allowed him into her personal space. When he pulled Rose away from her to pick the girl up Daryl saw Jean had a smear of blood across her breasts. Rose had either a bloody nose or a bloody lip. Maybe both. Daryl lifted the girl into his arms and held her against his chest. Then he turned back towards Negan.

"Where am I takin' her?"