Triggers: Mentions miscarriage, acts of rape, and suicide.

The hand around my throat tightens, mismatched gaze cast up to meet Toby's cold gaze. I can feel him on top of me, his thrusts bruising. I'm numb to it. He can't hurt me, not anymore. My nose and lip are busted and there is a cut under my eye. The sheets on the bed feel stiff and as if they are scratching at my back as he jolts my body. His face is littered with scratches and dried blood crusted on his lip where I threw a punch at him.

The bed creaks under us, his thrusts more frantic. He's getting close and soon he'll fall off and go to bed. I let him take what he wants from me, fighting it does no good. My hands have fallen to my sides, tired and having stropped clawing at his shoulders. There is dried blood under clear painted nails. I truly am defeated and he knows it, it gets him off.

Ducking his head, I feel him lick my cheek and laugh, mocking me as he fake cries.

"No one will ever love you…" He growls.

I feel him bury himself inside me one more time, a groan escaping him as I lay there. I want to vomit as I feel his release, feeling dirty and wanting to crawl out of my fucking skin. My only saving grace is that I can't get pregnant. Losing Aurora and his abuse caused irrevocable damage.

He releases my throat once he's finished, and roughly smacks my cheek as he brings his lips to my ear.

"You're a whore and always will be. Even the redneck knows you're only good for a cheap fuck."

I'm confused. My brain seems to stop like I'm in a haze. That draws me out of my dissociative state, but it's due to now trying to figure out who he's talking about.

He smacks my cheek again…

My eyes fly open at the moment of impact in my dream. The sun has gotten low and I'm staring at the top of my and Abby's tent. Blinking a few times, I take a few deep breaths. My thoughts are a mess, nothing too vivid. The confusion from the dream has found its way into the waking world with me. It almost feels hard to breathe, like Toby's hand is still around my throat and squeezing.

Sitting up, I brush loose hairs from my face and shake my head. I can feel a headache coming on which doesn't shock me. I rub my face with both hands and sigh deeply. The dream is sitting heavy with me, poking at the back of my brain. I know the redneck comment is in my subconscious. That's the only logical reason and was piggybacking off my talk with Joanne.

Leaning forward, I grab my boots and stuff my feet into them, taking a moment to relace them. Over the last few days, I've been just stuffing my feet into them. My hands are a bit shaky as I take a moment to take a few deep breaths. I repeat the same mantra of how I am safe and no one can hurt me.

Once I'm able to swallow down the feelings the dream stirred, I get to my feet and stretch a bit. The sky is a deep orange and I take a moment to appreciate the view as I step out of the tent. I'm met by Abby who is offering me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a bottle of water as she bounces on the toes of her brown combat boots.

"Thanks, babe. I'll eat in a bit." I smile faintly and turn my head to yawn.

"Nap wasn't all it was cracked up to be?" She asks, able to see in my eyes that I wasn't fully there.

"Just bad dreams. I just have to tell myself it's okay. I'm safe." Nodding as we walk over and sit at the makeshift firepit, opting for the black camping chair.

"I'm here if you wanna talk." Abby offers, sitting in the chair next to me, tugging the jacket Shane gave her back at our first camp around her.

"I know. I appreciate it." Nodding as I unwrap my sandwich from the foil that it was wrapped in and take a bite. I tuck the water bottle between my thighs as I eat. "I'll eat and deliver laundry, should be dry by now." Talking around the bite of sandwich I take.

"I think the only thing left is Joshua and Daryl's, they just got back a bit ago." She muses.

"Any luck with Sophia?" I ask, lifting my water bottle to take a drink.

"Daryl found a cottage and said it looked like someone had been there. Also said it looked like a small person was sleeping in the cupboard. I feel like he's getting close." She looks over and we both wave to John and Joanne as they walk toward the lake.

"I have faith in them. We need some good news, she is out there. I feel bad for Carol like every day has to be fucking rough." I sigh and eat, shaking my head a bit.

We sat in silence for a bit, watching the distance. Sometimes Abby and I didn't need to talk, just knowing the other is there is comforting. Plus, Abby knows how I am and the comfortable silence is healing in itself. I can see the worry on Abby's face and I know sometimes she just needs the silence to process a little.

Wiping my hands on my shorts, I lick my lips after polishing off my sandwich and water. I toss the napkin and bottle into the makeshift trashcan and stand up to stretch.

"You get Daryl's laundry and I'll grab Joshua's?" Abby asks as she stands up.

"Sounds like a plan." We head over to the clothesline, grabbing the baskets by the chair.

I laugh to myself as I gather Daryl's clothes off the line. My mind drifts for a moment, shocking me a bit when the question pops into my head "what if I had met Daryl before the world went to shit?" Shaking my head, I look over to see Abby snickering at me.

"What?" Raising a playful brow.

"Nothing. I am not the one holding Daryl's clothes and smiling like a dork." She teases.

While the nightmare is lingering, joking with Abby is helping. It's keeping me from breaking down. It's giving me something to focus on, and Daryl is my friend, so I am allowed to think about him. Friends think about friends dammit.

"Shut up, weirdo." Poking my tongue out at her and snorting.

"Yea. I know the look. Go take Mr. Dixon his laundry." She laughs and walks towards Joshua's tent.

I laugh, balancing my basket on my hip and making my way toward Daryl's tent, which he had set up just a bit away from everyone, which didn't shock me.

"Housekeeping." I joke.

"If you gotta." Daryl jokes as he unzips the door flap to his tent and moves to allow me to step in.

I laugh softly and step in, setting the basket down as Daryl zips back up the flap. He moves back to sitting on his sleeping bag and blankets as I turn to look at him.

"Next time I'm gonna charge you. Three squirrels and one pop tart from your stash." I laugh.

"You drive a hard bargain." He laughs and then motions to my eye. "What happened?" He asks, patting the spot next to him. He had noticed on the bridge, but we were focused on Sophia and getting to safety and this was the first time we have been able to sit and talk.

"Walker got me." Kicking off my shoes, I take his offer of the spot next to him. The top of my right cheek is scrapped and a bit tender. Purple and black rim my eye, the worst of it near the edge of my eye socket. "It caught me off guard and I fell, smacked the pavement hard. Rather this, than getting bit."

"Yeah, don't be going out getting yourself bit." He teases, his rough palm cupping my cheek as he inspects the damage.

"You saying you'd miss me?" Subconsciously leaning into his touch, finding comfort in it. For a moment, the nightmare is pushed back.

"Who else I got to drive me up a fucking wall?" He chuckles, shaking his head. Feeling me lean into his touch, he keeps his hand in place and brushes his thumb against my cheek.

Sighing, his touch with me is gentle, even if his hands are rough. He is rough around the edges and I can't explain how he draws me in, he just does. Maybe I know and subconsciously am not wanting to say it out loud. Bringing my hand up, I place mine over his and give him a faint smile. We are both broken in different ways and the world has dealt us both shitty hands.

"Well, when you say it like that." Laughing softly as his hand falls away from my cheek.

"Need me to grab a map?" He asks, blue eyes watching me. His eyes reflect curiosity like he's trying to figure out his feelings. Something tells me he is more in check with his emotions than he lets on.

"Maybe." Sighing as hazel and green eyes cast my gaze down. Slowly the nightmare is seeping back in and I don't know how to process it. I'm not sure how to say what's on my mind. How do you even say 'oh hey, I had a nightmare about my ex raping me and telling me even you know I'm only good for a cheap fuck?' I hiss a bit when I realize that I'm biting my lip and have snagged a piece of skin.

"Hey, Murph… We started over right? What's going on?" He asks, lifting his hand to my chin, his thumb gently tugging my bottom lip from between my teeth before dropping his hand to his lap.

"I know…" My throat wants to close, my voice seems to have run away from me. I don't think I want to know the answer to the question I have. We did start over, we have been letting things just happen. I've enjoyed getting to know Daryl and realizing he is nothing like I assumed. "Just had a nightmare. Toby. It was violent and it shook me."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" He asks, his tone low with his normal southern drawl. His tone also tells me he's concerned and willing to listen, even if he is not good with words like he has said before.

"Yes and no. It's a lot and it's on top of the other things going on in my head." Looking up at him and rubbing the end of my nose. "I'm afraid if I start talking, I won't stop and then I'll shatter and not be able to put all the pieces together again."

"Good thing I'm a tracker and can help find those pieces." He reassures me, knowing a few things about being shattered. I can see my words resonate and he is doing his best to be present in the moment with me.

I watch him for a moment, his words sinking in. Doubts in my head telling me I'm not worth the trouble. The voice in my head is Toby's. He still has a hold on me, he's still breaking me and he may very well be dead. There is pressure in me, in my head and it hurts. I want to let everything out and it confuses me. Daryl brought it out, even if I pegged him for another Toby. I spent days hating him for no reason and am now sitting here and wanting to tell him everything.

"You don't have to…" I murmur, moving to get up.

"Don't run. Please." Daryl asks softly, taking my hand.

"I can't…" I whimper but don't pull my hand away.

"You don't have to. Just don't run away from me, we've come too far." Rubbing his thumb against the back of my hand. "I know I ain't one to go around spilling my feelings and opening up, so I don't expect you to."

"It's hard. Any emotion got me mocked. Anytime I cried he'd laugh at me. I hate it. I cried that night at the water truck, but this is different." I manage as I settle back down, lifting my free hand to wipe at my eye.

"I ain't gonna do either, not when the same was done to me." He nods, his blue eyes reflecting hurt. He had been through the same, it didn't shock me. He carried himself like a man who was most likely told 'boys don't cry.' "My dad would beat my ass if he caught me crying. Then would take a belt to me and tell me he'd give me a real reason to cry. He'd always say crying was for pussies. Merle was the same, only he never laid a hand on me. Ya know, outside of the normal brotherly scraps. Was relieved the day he drank himself into the grave."

I watch him as he talks. He bites the end of his thumb a few times and looks down. The hand holding mine tightens, not enough to hurt, but enough to show how tense he was talking about his father.

"I'm sorry your dad was a bastard." Nodding softly and squeezing his hand in return. "My parents were never around. My dad was a drunk and my mom a drug addict. I think maybe that's why I fell for Toby. He was an escape, but I just traded one abusive drunk for another… Toby and I would bloody each other and then he'd laugh at me for crying. He'd mock me if I told him I loved him and beg for the violence to stop."

I trail off a bit and sigh, letting my shoulders sag. I can feel emotion building in my throat.

"I have learned to stuff it down. It's how I survived and didn't just step in front of a bus. I don't know how to open up." My tone is a bit frustrated with myself.

"Neither am I and again, I don't expect nothing. Just, don't close me out. I'm here and I ain't gonna mock you or make fun of you. I'll help you find any of the pieces you lose. Friends and all, right?" He asks gently, his hand still holding mine. At the moment we can both understand the other. We both have trouble expressing emotion and are both sitting here with it sitting like lumps in our throats.

"Why? I treated you so badly. I compared you to a vile person and judged you. You should hate me." I know we started over, my mind just needs to come to terms.

"Because I can read you. I knew the day I saw you, you were like a wounded animal. Knew you didn't black your eye and bruise your face. You were hurt and ready to strike. I was your target because I resemble your ex. I'm observant. I never thought it was me you was angry with. Which is why I didn't write you off for being a bitch and wanted to find common ground. Even if it started at the bottom of a bottle of Southern Comfort." He manages to chuckle a bit. "My point is, I was never gonna hate you. Not when I figured out why you were angry towards me and not at me."

His words bring me back to the night in question. 'Even the redneck knows you're only good for a cheap fuck,' echoes in my head. I got drunk and fucked Daryl without even really knowing him. I know better than to think Daryl had the same thoughts as Toby. I know Daryl is a good man, but the words keep circling my brain.

"Do you regret that night at the CDC?" The words fall from my lips before I can stop them.

Daryl looks for a moment, his eyes showing honesty and trust when my gaze finally lifts to his. His head tilts a bit, clearly trying to read me which, apparently he is good at.

"No. I don't regret it. We were buzzed, but we were both consenting. I don't regret it because it kicked off us talking and you not glaring daggers at me." He's honest, one thing you can always say about him. He may not be the smoothest with words, but he is honest with them nonetheless.

"In my nightmare, Toby taunted me and said you knew I was only good for a cheap fuck." I admit, releasing my bottom lip from my teeth when I feel as if I may bite right through it.

Daryl growls, not towards me, but at the things, he was learning about Toby. He was slowly seeing the hell I lived in and his anger was directed toward Toby. His jaw clenches for a moment before relaxing. He was a lot of things, but a woman beater never. He has seen his dad beat his mother many times and swore to never do the same, to any woman.

"I'd love nothin' more than to stomp a mudhole in that son of a bitch." He grits out and shakes his head. Cupping my chin, he lifts it to bring my gaze to his. "I never thought anything of the kind. No man is going to think badly of getting to hold on to a beautiful woman. You're gorgeous, but you're more than that. You're fucking crazy, but a cheap fuck? Nah. I respect you too much for that. Plus, you're my favorite kinda crazy. "

His words bring a teary-eyed chuckle. My cheeks and the tips of my ears warm with a blush. Yeah, he called me crazy, but there is no malice or mocking in his tone. Just honesty and it's not like I can deny it. I like it. Our conversations flow naturally and while some of the things we say to each other may seem harsh and make you think we don't like one another, that is the furthest from the truth. We don't expect the other to be anything other than themselves. Anything other than Daryl and Murphy.

"I hope I don't ever stop being your favorite kinda crazy." I manage a chuckle but hiss when I lift my hand to my eye to wipe it, forgetting for a second about the injury.

"I doubt you'll ever stop being that. I have never met a woman like you. Devil himself is afraid of pissing you off." He chuckles, lifting his hand to tuck loose strands of my hair behind my ear.

I laugh because it's probably true. I have my ways and I know I'm brash, loud, and at times a downright cunt. I close my eyes when he leans forward and kisses my brow. It's a simple gesture, but it means a lot. It lets me know that it's okay. For Daryl it's a simple promise, to affirm his words. I'm stubborn and so is he. We aren't perfect and I'm okay with that.

"There you go sweet talking me." I joke softly, wrapping my hands around his larger one, sniffling at the kiss on my brow.

"Only way to shut you up." Chuckling as he uses his free hand to wipe away the tear trailing down my cheek.

Leaning forward, I rest my head against his and close my eyes. One hand stays wrapped around his, the other coming up to cup his cheek. His breath ghosts over my lips and I can tell he's unsure of the moment but lets it happen. He leans in a bit to my touch and lets my name fall from his lips. I like how it sounds. His drawl makes me smile. I never thought I could like someone saying my name so much.

My lips brush over his, silently asking for this moment. To forget for a moment, just like I did at the CDC. His lips brush over mine a few times, silently making sure it was okay before he claims my lips in a sweet kiss. My hand stays on his cheek, brushing over his rough skin. His kisses are slow and carry spice. Sounds silly I know. I can feel the tears roll down my cheeks, but my kiss tells Daryl that it's okay. I want this moment, just everything that has welled up inside me is bubbling up.

When the gentle kiss breaks, I smile and meet Daryl's blue eyes. He brushes his lips over my cheeks, tasting the salt from my lips. I know it may seem out of character for him, but as I have said, I think there is more to Daryl than he lets on. His secret is safe with me.

"Can I keep you for a bit?" I ask softly and glance at him shyly, my hand sliding away from his cheek.

Daryl grins softly, never having been someone that someone else wanted. He's a lost soul. Just like me. We both know how it feels to be unwanted, to feel it radiating off people, even some you call family and friends.

"Kitten, you can keep me as long as you need." He promises, giving me a nudge.

"Why do you call me Kitten?" I ask as I wipe my cheeks and shake my head.

"You're cute, but have claws. " He laughs, leaning back on his elbows and stretching his legs out in front of him. "Soon you'll move up to biting me."

"Nah, don't think you'd taste very good." I tease, shifting a bit to lay back against the pillows he has stacked. Hey, he said not to leave. I lay on my back, hands resting on my pudgy stomach, head turned to look at him.

"Tasted pretty good a second ago when you was kissing me." Raising his brow.

I chuckle too, looking up at him as he looms over me, still resting on his elbows. We are both still guarded and I like the pace we're at. There is no judgment here, because who are we to judge the other? Even if I had been guilty of it at first. I know he can see the shredded pieces of me I keep locked away, just as his eyes tell me the story of his. We just aren't good at expressing it. It doesn't need to come out all at once.

"Shut up, Dixon." I laugh, reaching up to poke his nose.

"Just tellin' the truth." He smirks and wrinkles his nose in response to the poke. He shifts a bit, laying on his back as well, fingers laced over his stomach.

"Mhm." I chuckle as he turns his head to look at me.

"Stubborn woman. Gonna be the reason I go gray and my hair falls out." He jokes, shifting to his side after a moment in an attempt to get comfortable.

"You're welcome." Wrinkling my nose as I look at him.

I stay quiet for a moment, his blue eyes contemplating. Moving to his head, he reaches out and pokes my nose as "revenge" for earlier. I chuckle and wrinkle my nose. He studies my face for a moment, tucking loose hairs behind my ear. My breath hitches for a moment as his fingers trailed along my cheek. When he hears my breath hitch, he slowly pulls his hand back.

"Just so you know, I would never hurt ya. It's the last thing I want to ever do. You don't deserve it. I'll always protect you." He promises, his tone reaffirming his words.

"Why?" I ask softly. I sigh because my stupid brain can't understand why anyone would want to protect me. I protect myself and never let anyone else do it for me.

"Because I don't want people to feel like I have felt. I grew up rough. My dad didn't give a shit, Merle left when he could. My dad beat me, took all his anger out on me and I took it. I fought back when I could, but some days I just let it happen. I love my brother, but it has always been me. I've felt alone all my life. Have always picked myself up and never relied on no one, because that's how you get disappointed." He explains, his voice is a bit tight like he's trying to hold the emotion in. "I don't want to make no one else feel like that, even if I don't show it. It's why I'm out looking for Sophia. I don't want her to feel alone and that no one is looking for her. I don't want Carol to feel like she can't rely on anyone. I ain't no Rick or Shane, but I still want to help."

"You are just as good as anyone here." I whisper, my hand coming to rest on his cheek. I give him a small smile, keeping my own emotions in check because I have cried too much over the last few days. "My dad never beat me, but he would throw things and threaten me. My mom did drugs to escape him. They both died a few years ago. Mom OD'ed and dad was killed in jail."

I pause for a moment, brushing my thumb under his eye before leaning in to kiss his brow. I'm learning how to comfort people, even if I am still awkward with it.

"You are a good man and I know with you on my side, things will be okay. You got my back and I got yours. I'm sorry life dealt you a shitty hand as well, you never deserved any of it and I get where you are coming from. Minus Joshua and John, the men in my life have been terrible. But I'm glad I got you." Gently brushing a few wild hairs behind his ear.

"Thanks, Murph." He murmurs, unsure how to process but doing his best.

We lay in silence for a bit, just enjoying the peaceful feeling. I just now notice the sun has gone down, I can see Daryl still, there is a shadow cast over his face. I chuckle when I hear Abby pass by and say "sleepover at Daryl's, party on." I roll my eyes and look away from Daryl to say "I will." Daryl chuckles as well, witnessing the relationship between Abby and me, seeing the closeness we have. His eyes show that he may long for that connection. I'll be damn sure to give that to him. Just like he doesn't want to make anyone feel alone, I also don't like making someone feel the same as I have been made to feel. I look back at him, my hand had fallen from his cheek, and reached out to take his. A yawn gets me, chuckling after.

"You need sleep, girl." He breaks the silence.

"I… Yeah. The nightmare woke me up… I just… I don't want to go back to sleep." I admit it because I'm afraid of the nightmares coming. "I use to have night terrors, all to do with Toby and my father. I'm nervous to go back to sleep."

He watches me for a moment before gently moving to his back, tugging me towards him. The uninjured side of my face rests on his shoulder as he brings my arm to rest over his stomach. My hand rests on his side, thumb brushing over the dingy fabric of his shirt.

"I'm right here. I can't protect ya from the nightmares, but I can promise to be here when you wake up." I feel his hand come up and rub my bare arm as he whispers against my hair.

I want to respond, but I don't. My eyes close for a moment and swallow the lump in my throat, fingers curling in his shirt. His arm stays around me, his fingers still trail up and down my arm. His other hand rests on my forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze.

We lay in silence, Daryl's eyes closing as we lay there. We are slowly opening up to one another. Yes, we kissed, but I feel in this moment it was grounding. It was just a gentle promise to say "hey I'm here and I care." Could it be more? Maybe. I don't know where this is gonna go, but I do know I won't mind. This contact is something we both need. Right now, we are the ones who understand the other and that's all it needs to be right now.