Triggers: Mentions miscarriage, rape, and suicide

T-Dog was on the mend, and Carl was as well. Learned the farm we were on belongs to a man named Hershel Greene. A Veterinarian, but he was able to save Carl. High daughter Maggie along with their family friend, Patricia was able to stitch T-Dog up. I admit I wandered off by myself, choosing to sit on the porch til the late hours and Hershel allowed me to sleep on the couch in the living room. He patched the corner of my eye, telling me I'd had a hell of a shiner in the morning.

I admit, the night did not give me much rest. I would sleep for a bit, then wake up panicked and it would talk me a minute to gain my bearings. My eye throbbed and then times I did sleep, it was haunted by Toby. I finally gave up after a few hours and spent the rest of the early morning hours sitting on the porch swing, lost in my head.

The rest of the group arrived this morning and set up camp. Daryl and Joshua were out looking for Sophia, Abby was with Shane for a bit as he told us about him and a man named Otis who went on a supply run and were attacked by walkers. The story he told, I admit, sounded a bit outlandish. Like something you'd see in a movie, but Shane has not done wrong by me, so I am not going to judge. Plus, we all experience grief differently. Abby had decided to check on him and to be honest I don't want to know what they were up to. Not judging, I just rather not think about Shane fucking around with my best friend. Carol was hole-up in the RV, waiting for any news.

Joanne and I had taken dirty clothes down to the lake, Maggie was nice enough to provide us with baking soda to get them somewhat clean. We offered, and Johanne is the mother hen type. She always wants to look out for everyone. So she demanded dirty clothes from everyone, including Daryl, and had come down to the lake. It's peaceful, I can't remember a time I have felt this way. It's certainly helping calm my mood, it had turned sour this morning and I was trying to fight it.

The sun is high in the sky and the heat has kicked in, but my khaki shorts and tattered pink tank top are helping. My hair is pulled back in the braid I made the other night, dreading when it comes time to brush it. I left my guns back at our makeshift camp, Hershel asking that as long as we're his guest, we don't carry guns. Yeah, that was a bit of a debate, but in the end, we agreed. Many of us had knives and machetes.

Sitting on the wooden dock, Joanne and I sorted clothes to simply ensure everyone gets back what belonged to them. Joanne is dressed in light khakis and a light blue shirt, her gray hair pulled back into a braid similar to mine. She's one of the strongest women I know. Over the past few years, she has helped me learn to survive and has always encouraged my leaving Toby.

"We haven't had much time to talk recently. How are you holding up, sweet girl?" She asks as she dips one of John's shirts into the water and brings it back up to work a small bit of baking soda into the fabric.

"I'm okay, for the most part. Worried for Sophia and Carol, I can't imagine how Carol is feeling and Sophia must be terrified." I nod, already working baking soda into a pair of Abby's jeans. "How about you and John?"

"We are the best we can be, outside of worrying about Carol and Sophia, which Daryl seems intent on finding the girl. That boy is determined, and I know if anyone can find her, it will be him. I have faith in our two boys being out there, between him and Joshua, I like to think chances are good." She smiles.

"I think so too." Dunking Abby's jeans into the water a few times and wringing them out.

"John thinks he and Rick can form a game plan. I think today is good to get settled and reconnect. I know I would like to spend an evening with my husband. We may be older, but I am still a woman in love." She chuckles.

"Hey, let's keep it PG here." I tease.

"Oh honey, if you only knew me back in the seventies. I had just met John and he was a looker. That man took my breath away. Three-day fling as teenagers at Woodstock, been inseparable since." She chuckles as she wrings the water from the shirt she was washing.

"Almost four decades later." My tone playfully swooned.

"I couldn't imagine life without him. He spilled his beer on my lap that first day, then gave me that crooked smile of his. Knew then I was hooked." She laughs fondly. Her tone conveys that she and John are very much still in love and I see them show it every day with little touches and John always kissing the top of her head.

"You guys are perfect for one another. Makes me kinda jealous." Picking up Daryl's shirt and dunking it into the water a few times to repeat my scrub with the baking soda.

"Ah, I love him don't get me wrong… but that man can be infuriating. We took a trip to Yellowstone one year… that fool got us lost for two days. Didn't want to listen to me about the map. Love of my life and pain in my ass." She smiles fondly, tossing the wet shirt she was washing into the clean basket.

"Aren't most men like that? Can't tell me Rick or Shane either one has asked for directions. That trip Joshua, Abby, and I took to New Orleans that one year, Abby was going to finally slug Joshua if he didn't stop and get directions after getting us an hour off course." Shaking Daryl's shirt in the lake to rinse before wringing out the water.

"You three make us happy. Like the kids, we've always wanted. You may not be blood, but you've always been ours." She pats me on the leg before grabbing a pair of her jeans and starting the washing process.

"I'm glad to have had you both in my life. Pretty sure I wouldn't have made it without you, just sorry I didn't listen to you about Toby sooner." Shrugging as I toss the clean shirt in the basket and get another clothing item.

"You're stubborn. I can't fault you, especially when he was your first love. We were never going to give up, we're a family. Even now, it's extended, but at the end of the day, family is what matters. That boy will get his and even though I'm a God-fearing woman, I hope he burns in hell." She states with conviction, never one to hold back.

I stay quiet for a moment as we continue our washing, biting my lip in thought. She was right. Toby deserves to burn in hell and quietly I'm hoping he already is. Hoping the devil takes pounds of flesh for atonement, even if I know Toby will never be worthy. I shake my head, grab Joshua's Pantera t-shirt and get to washing.

"I'm almost over being upset about leaving him to rot." I admit.

"Good. Ain't no reason to feel bad about leaving a pile of shit where he belongs." Joanne nods, always one to say whatever is on her mind. "You are better off. I can see your eyes getting that sparkle back."

"I'm getting there. It's still tough. Getting through all the years of abuse and anger. I don't want to live with it anymore, but don't know how to let it go…" I admit.

"You lived in torment for over a decade, it'll take time. I can assure you though, you're on a good path." She nudges me. "You smile more. Even with the world taking a nosedive, I have seen you smile more. That's a beautiful thing."

"Thanks. I guess it's funny in a way. Only took the end of the world to get me to leave Toby and try to heal the trauma." Looking down at my hands for a moment, looking over the thin scars on my fingers where the glass had to be dug out of them.

Joanne smiles softly and reaches over to give my hand a gentle squeeze before getting back to washing. There isn't much, but we wanted to get as close to clean as we can.

"You've got good people. Plus, I know a certain man you've been eyeing looks like he doesn't mind looking out for you." She muses.

"Daryl?" Like I have to ask. "He's different. He kissed my forehead the other night." I say without thinking. I am really happy about the small gesture.

"A woman's weakness. John knows it's the way to calm me down, and also gets him outta trouble at times." She laughs, wiping her hands on her shorts and looking out over at John standing with Rick in the distance.

"It made me cry… then he told me someone with eyes like mine shouldn't have tears. It was the first thing he noticed about me back at camp." I admit, biting my lip and looking down again.

Joanne looks at me with a brow playfully raised. I blush, no one but Abby knows about the CDC one-night stand. I'm not ready to admit it to anyone else. Part of me doesn't want to taint it, even though it was a one-night stand, it still made me feel a slew of emotions. I admit to sobering up a bit in the middle of it, I feel as if Daryl had too.

"That boy is smitten. You and he are a bit alike. I don't have to look hard to see he has some hurt too. I think you both will be good for each other. Even if nothing comes out of it, you seem to understand each other." She explains.

"How are you so sure?" I chuckle, well aware of the small blush I have painting the tips of my ears.

"I've been around a long time. He talks about his brother, Merle a lot. The way he talks about him. I can almost bet those boys raised themselves. Daryl has the same guarded look you do, my dear. He doesn't open up and he gets angry, but part of it is most likely because he doesn't want to show anyone he's bothered." She nods. She has always been a good judge of character. "Like I have a feeling Shane isn't telling the whole truth about what happened with that man, Otis."

"I had the same feeling, but I've chalked it up to stress and maybe he isn't good with processing trauma." I suggest.

"Perhaps. John and I have PTSD from overseas, John has trouble dealing with his and I have told myself Shane probably does as well. He doesn't seem like the type to accept help or seek it out. I told Abby to be careful around him, but she has always been a caregiver." Joanne nods, worried about both Abby and me for different reasons.

We continue washing, occasionally glancing across the field back towards camp. Lifting my hand, I scratch at my nose for a moment.

"I've told her the same. I have tried to remain optimistic, not let my fears hold weight in advice." Sighing. "Speaking of fears… Can I admit something?"

"Of course, darling." Stopping her washing for a moment, Joanne gives me her full attention.

"Daryl doesn't know everything… When we were talking the other night, I told him about Toby, but not everything. I didn't tell him about the extent of the abuse from Toby and I'm ashamed to even admit it, and terrified of him judging me on me going back even after the times Toby raped me." I admit and look down at the water, fingers subconsciously wrapping around the fabric of the shirt I was washing, which just happens to belong to Daryl.

"Oh, honey." Joanne tosses the shirt she was washing into the basket and wraps an arm around me.

She kisses the side of my head, tugging me a bit and causing my head to rest on her shoulder as my eyes close. She, like Abby, knows it all. She knows all about my trauma.

"I don't believe Daryl will judge you. He may just shock you. He seems like a lot of things, but I feel in my heart that he won't judge you for that." She assures, kissing the top of my head with a sigh.

"I believe you. Maybe one day I'll be brave enough to tell him." Nodding against her shoulder before lifting my head and offering a smile. "I'm just not ready to bare my soul just yet, I'm enjoying the friendship, and to be honest, the voice in the back of my head is strongly warning me."

"I know you will. Just make sure you don't compare Daryl to Toby. My honest opinion, Daryl is a true southern good ole boy, and those are the kind of men who don't take putting your hands on a woman." She assures me before we get back to washing the last few pieces of clothing.

"Thanks. I will try not to because Daryl doesn't deserve it, I was a complete bitch towards him and he gave me a second chance." Offering a faint smile.

It's been hard. Is it Daryl I'm questioning, or is it myself? I stayed, I allowed the abuse, and my self-worth has taken a hit. Part of my brain is always questioning myself and perhaps it's why, to some point, I can be honest about my abuse. Because no one can use it against me if I make people aware of it. No one can hurt me with it, when they know I'm aware of it and have made peace with being broken and ashamed. No one can hurt me if I beat them to the punch. When I fall into autopilot, that's how I protect myself. Like a security blanket.

"That should tell you the kind of man he is. Trust me. There was a rough patch between John and me. I had a miscarriage." Laying her hands in her lap for a moment, looking out at the water. "I blamed myself and I couldn't understand why he didn't blame me. He would take my anger, my crying and yelling. During those months, he could have walked away, but he stayed. He assured me it wasn't my fault and he loved me. I knew he was the one for me." Looking at me with a gentle smile, her eyes a bit glassy.

Her eyes tell the story. She and John were never able to have kids. She jokes sometimes that is why she and John refer to Abby, Joshua, and me as their kids. They have always been there for us. We've always been a family. I remember she talked about her miscarriage, but she never got into details.

"I can see how much he loves you. I'm sorry you've had to go through that." Placing the last piece of laundry into the basket. She knows I have issues with my emotions and expressing sympathy. Looking down, I bit at the skin of my lip.

"And I love him, but just as I didn't let it define me… don't let the loss of Aurora define you." Placing her hand on my cheek.

Aurora. The little girl I would have had if not for Toby. She was a product of a drunken ending to a fight. Grimly fitting, my loss of her was due to a similar fight, this time ending in extreme pain, glass being dug out of my hands and arm, and being told my little girl didn't make it. As much as I tried to hold back, as I leaned into her hand the tears started.

She pulls me into a hug, my head falling forward to her shoulder. She rubs my back, whispering that it'll be okay and that letting it out is good. The self-loathing is building, and the disgust and hatred in my heart hurt. Like someone has put their hand through my chest and gripped my heart. I admit it's almost suffocating.

"Let it out, sweetheart. It's okay. I promise we'll get through." Joanne soothes me, knowing my pain, but believing in me and that I can heal.

I know she's right. I know it will be okay, but fuck it hurts. Like I'm losing her all over again like the walls I built are shrinking. I'm able to pull myself together, sniffling when I sit up and wipe my eyes.

"Thanks… I know it will. Sorry…" I murmur, using the hem of my shirt to dry my eyes. "Let's um, let's get these clothes hung up." Nodding, swallowing down the sorrowful feelings as I stand up and pick my basket up.

Joanne offers a smile, used to me not being comfortable allowing myself to be too open. I've even withdrawn from Abby at times. Broken record here. Again, survival. Toby would laugh at me if I got "too emotional." Joanne stands as well, resting the basket on her hip.

"Don't forget we love you and you don't have to do this alone." She assures. She places her free hand on the back of my neck, which habit has me bowing my head and letting her kiss the top of my head.

"Thanks, Joanne. I love you guys too." Smiling.

Slowly we made our way back toward our makeshift camp. I bottle things back up, not wanting to let anyone see proof of my being upset. I just want to swallow it down and let it simmer. Right now, I have things to do. Hang laundry, eat, and attempt to feel somewhat normal. Quietly I go about hanging laundry from the baskets on the line, smiling when Rick passes me.

"Thanks again, for taking care of that." Rick chuckles and motions to the clothes. I can tell he is a bit worn out and is trying to keep busy as I can imagine he is worried sick about Carl.

"Of course. I want to help however I can." Nodding as he places a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"You are, more than you know. You kept T-Dog going." He motions gently toward my eye, concern reflecting in his eyes. "How'd that happen?"

"What?" My eye, it dawned on me. My right eye was bruised and scraped from the walker on the highway. Things have been hectic and it has been the last thing on my mind. Maggie had doctored it a bit last night and Joanne asked me about it as well. "Oh. Walker in a car. My face really wanted to meet the pavement." Chuckling.

"Well, may I suggest admiring it from afar next time?" He jokes.

"I will take it under consideration." Chuckling in return as I hang up a few tank tops. "How's Carl?"

"As good as can be expected. He'll pull through… It was an accident. Otis the farmhand, the one Shane was speaking about, his bullet went through the deer and hit Carl." He recounts grimly. "But what matters is, he's okay."

"He's a fighter, I'm glad to hear it." Placing a gentle hand on his arm. "He's lucky to have a father as good-hearted as you."

"Thanks, Murphy." Nodding, I can tell he is still worried and perhaps blames himself for Carl.

"Just remember, none of this was your fault." I soothe, placing my hand on his arm for a moment.

"I keep telling myself that." He chuckles, but it lacks humor.

I hear Lori call for Rick and give her a wave. She smiles and waves back as Rick tells me he will talk to me later and walks to meet Lori. I would be lying if I said I wasn't getting tired. I yawn as I hang up the last piece of clothing and set my basket down by the tree. Camp is set up under a few oak trees with laundry lines tied between them. It kind of feels like home. We can take a breath, for the moment at least.

Looking up, I smile as Abby comes up behind me, arms crossed and nudging me a bit.

"How're you feeling, Murph?" She asks, concerned but in good spirits.

"Tired." I chuckle as we walk towards our tent.

"You deserve a nap." She nods, unzipping the flap to the tent.

"Maybe." Yawning again, sighing as I kick off my boots.

"How's the eye?" She asks, motioning to my face.

"Eh, I've had worse. Kinda stings." Shrugging as I settle on the blankets we have made into a rather comfortable bed.

"Even more reason to rest. I'll wake you up in a few. I am gonna see about making something decent to eat." She nods.

"You want help?" Already knowing her answer, but still asking.

"Nah, Maggie and I have it handled." Chuckling, Abby points. "You rest."

"Yes, mom." Playfully rolling my eyes.

Abby laughs softly, flipping me off before walking from the tent. I know she's right. Even if I feel guilty. I feel like there is something I should be doing. I've never been good at resting. As I lay on my back, I rest one arm behind my head and the other over my stomach. My eyes drift closed and my body starts to relax against the blankets. I calm my thoughts as I focus on slow, deep breaths and continue to allow my body to rest, telling myself I don't need to feel guilty. I'm allowed to simply exist.