Triggers: Miscarriage, mentions of rape, self-harm, domestic violence, and suicide. Heavy emotional confessions.

Maggie had told me to take a shower, saying I was looking a little worn and the hot water would do me and my muscles good. I wanted to protest but Carol had been sent on a mission and had returned, shoving my duffle bag at me and Maggie shoving shampoo and conditioner at me. Told me to take a minute for myself, both saying I deserved it. So, that's where I'm at, standing under the warm spray of water, working conditioner through my hair. I admit I feel better. Lighter almost. My tanned skin no longer has a thin layer of grime on it and my hair is somewhat manageable now. I am still pondering cutting a chunk of it off. It's a hassle. My eyes gaze down, taking my body in. Starting with the heavy swell of my breasts. Not perky in the least. My body is thick. My stomach is a soft curl of pudge that does indeed jiggle and is a canvas of scars and stretch marks. My arms jiggle a bit, my wrist and forearms painted with long scars from self-harm and attempting to take my own life. I am thankful no one has asked about them. My thighs are thick, also marred with scars and cellulite. My body tells my story, one I want to hide from. I tried more than once to check out. God had other plans.

A deep sigh escapes me as I rinse my hair, letting the water run over my face as well, glad the scrape around my eye is well on its way to healing so there is no sting. After I give a good rinse, I shut the water off and stand wringing my hair out before grabbing my towel. After a minute or two of vigorous towel drying, I start on my body. My mind is blank for the moment, in the sense of no impending doom or fear. I want to bask in the feeling as long as I can.

Once dry, I step from the tub and stand in front of the mirror. I lay my towel over the sink and grab my brush and hairband from my bag. I hiss only a few times as my brush catches a few snarls then do a quick, messy bun. I don't want my hair to dry and stick to my head. I towel dry my skin once more before slipping into clean clothes, which were a pair of khaki shorts and an old Pantera t-shirt that hangs off me. I keep my bra stuffed in my bag, forgoing it for the night as I didn't want to sleep in it.

After slipping my feet into my boots, I grab my bag and exit the bathroom. On my way, I knock on the door to the bedroom Daryl is occupying, only entering when I hear him instruct me to come in.

"Hey, wanted to check on you before I headed to bed." I offer a faint smile. He had eaten and Abby had taken the dishes from earlier back down.

"Still livin'." States, sitting up in the bed against his pillows and sighing.

"I'm glad. I sorta like you being all alive." I joke. "Need anything before I head outside?"

I can see him ponder, the vulnerability from earlier still lingering in his eyes as he looks up at me. I can tell he is weighing something.

"You're gonna sleep outside?" He asks, testing the waters.

"Only place to sleep, Dixon. Unless you plan on budging over and sharing the bed." I joke.

"I mean…" His tone is low and gravelly. He scoots over a bit and lifts his hand to chew at the skin around his thumbnail. I have come to note this as a nervous or shy tick. "Don't mind. If you didn't want to be alone."

I set my bag by the door, slipping my boots off by the door. I know Abby is bunking with Shane, for reasons I ain't asking. I trust Abby, and while Shane may be a wildcard, I know Abby can handle herself and wouldn't hesitate to defend herself. I remember in fifth grade she broke a guy's nose. He had grabbed her ass and she decked him without hesitation.

"How's your side?" Sitting on the edge of the bed, opposite his injured side.

"Tender. Abby came up while you was in the shower and helped with a bandage after she took the dishes down." Lifting the sheet to show the white bandage on his side before laying back down against the pillows on his uninjured side. "Took a few of Merle's painkillers."

"And the head?" I ask softly, lifting my hand to gently touch his hairline where Abby has placed a small bandaid where he was grazed.

"Eh, about the same." He nods.

"I just don't want to end up hurting you." I caution.

"Gonna hurt either way. Ain't you suppose to be a doctor or was schooling to be one? May need medical attention during the night." He chuckles, shaking his head a bit at me.

"Med student." I smile and slide up onto the bed next to him. "Thank you, for coming back to me."

I can tell my words catch him off guard. I also can see this is all new for him, people caring and wanting someone to be happy he came back. From what he has told me, his parents were shitty and Merle doesn't seem like a peach. He seems to be the good one in the family, which is why he shies away and masks his emotions with anger and sarcasm. It was how he learned to survive.

"You're the first person to ever say that. Normally, there ain't no one caring about where I'm at." He admits, looking over at me as I settle in the bed next to him and rest my head on the pillow next to his. "When I was little, I got lost in the woods for nine days. Was a little younger than Sophia. No one ever knew I was gone. Found my way home, went in, and made a sandwich."

"I'm sorry your parents were so terrible." Placing my hand on his cheek. "I know it can be hard to accept, but the people here, we care about you. I care about you."

"Yeah." He nods closing his eyes for a moment.

"I know being vulnerable is hard because we both had to survive. We were both told we were weak and people exploited our vulnerability. Just know you're safe, no one here is going to hurt you. And I'm saying this and trying to convince myself of the same thing." Trailing my fingers along his jaw.

"I'm working on it." Opening his eyes, gazes at me, his blue gaze reflecting his struggle.

"That's all you can do," I assure.

"How's your eye?" He asks, his hand coming up to brush his thumb gently over the purple skin under my eye, careful of the healing scrape.

"Better. Doesn't hurt much. The only irritation is the scrape, but even that is barely noticeable." Biting my lip with a sigh.

"We're a pair." He chuckles as he takes my hand from his cheek and holds it, hands resting between us.

"Worse things to be." Humming softly before wrinkling my nose. "Today scared me. For that split second, I thought Andrea had killed you and my heart stopped for a moment. Then finding out what happened in the woods…"

"Hey." His hand releases mine to rest on my chin long enough to use this thumb and tug my bottom lip from between my teeth. "Can't no one kill a Dixon, but a Dixon. I'll always come back, especially since I gotta reason to."

"Oh?" Almost biting my lip again.

"Yeah. Got this crazy woman who is turning me gray before I'm fifty. She's a pain in my ass, but I don't mind'er." He pokes my nose causing me to wrinkle it a bit.

"Glad to be of service. You are a pain in the ass too." Nodding, sniffling a bit.

I was scared. I admit it. I was scared I had lost him when I saw him being carried by Rick and Shane. That moment of panic made me realize that Daryl is someone I've come to care a great deal about over the last few weeks. He may not show it, but I can see he cares about people. Hell, he was out looking for Sophia when no one asked him to and no one expected him to keep looking. Like he said the other night, he didn't want her to feel like no one cared. Like no one was out looking for her. He's been there for me, he protected Abby and me at the CDC.

"You're a good man, Daryl." Taking his hand back into mine resting them between us again.

"I'll take your word for it." He mutters.

"Good. Because you are. You're far better than you know. You could have left us the moment you got here and you have never given up on Sophia." Offering him a smile.

"As I said, ain't nothing Rick or Shane wouldn't a done." He sighs, having trouble accepting that he is a valued member of this group and that people cared about him.

"One day you'll see yourself the way others do. And yeah, this is coming from someone who thinks the same way. We're both learning." I smile.

I watch his eyes close for a moment and the tiredness in them. His body is probably finally wearing down and he is probably feeling the pain.

"Rest, you deserve it. Let me handle things for a bit." I murmur and kiss his forehead.

I can feel him sigh, keeping his eyes closed as his body relaxes against the bed. I hold our linked hands against my chest and sigh.

"No finishing me off in my sleep." He muses sparing me a glance.

"No promises." Snorting at him.

He chuckles and closes his eyes once more. I only let go of his hand to lean over and turn the bedside lamp off. I let him settle in, doing the same after and taking his hand back in mine. The past few weeks have changed me a bit. I'm still guarded, but I'm learning I don't have to live in a constant state of either pins and needles or autopilot. I'm allowed to feel things. Just like I told Daryl, no one here is going to hurt me and they do care about me as I care about them. My head settles on the pillow, relaxing next to Daryl. My eyes closed for a bit, deciding to just rest as I didn't feel too sleepy.

I can feel his hand around my throat, squeezing as he pins me to the wall. I whine, my hands trying to pry him off me. Nails dig into his skin, drawing blood. I'm staring into Toby's unforgiving blue eyes right before he slaps me across the face. He pulls me away from the wall for a moment before slamming me back.

"You're mine, you stupid whore. You'll always be mine. No one else wants you. Not even that fucking redneck. He knows you're mine." Toby growls out.

"He's not you! You don't fucking own me! Not anymore!" I scream at him.

I feel myself being yanked from the wall and thrown to the floor. Getting to my knees, I cough a few times before I'm met with Toby's boot to the side of my head.

"You're damaged goods, you stupid bitch." He growls.

He's right. I am. I won't ever let him know that I believe him. I've been used. Raped and abused for over a decade. Who would want me?

"Fuck you." Falling to my back. I try to push away from him just as he rares his foot back to kick me again.

"Murphy."

The voice invades as suddenly Toby is gone. I lay on my back, looking around confused.

"Murphy."

There it is again. I can't place it.

"Murph."

This time my eyes open, glassy with the tears I'd been crying in my sleep. I whimper when I realize there's a hand resting on my cheek. My eyes try and focus, a bit of fear washing over in my disoriented state.

"Hey, it's okay."

The voice says as I grab the hand, ready to push away. The way the hand curls around mine stops me for a moment… Daryl. I finally registered where I'm at. Sitting up in the bed, I release Daryl's hand and hide my face in my hands and lean forward. I hiccup a few times as I try to stop the tears. Daryl moves next to me, sitting up to turn the bedside lamp on. I can feel his hand resting on my back, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb.

"I'm sorry." I murmur from behind my hands as I sniffle. Fucking hell.

"Nothing to be sorry about," Daryl whispers, doing his best to comfort me even if he's a bit unsure.

Lifting my head, I look at him with red-rimmed eyes and drop my hands in my lap. Slowly he sits up a little more, reaching over to brush the tears away from my cheek, pulling back when I cringe.

"Sorry." Letting his hand fall to his lap.

"Don't be. I just… another nightmare." Nodding as I bite my lip, knowing talking about it would help, but I don't know how.

"I figured. You was talking in your sleep, you said Toby's name." Leaning forward a bit.

I laugh, but it lacks humor. It's more of a release because I don't know how to stop crying. I don't know what to say. I don't think I know anything at the moment. My head is swimming and I just want to run. It's taking everything in me not to run, Daryl can see it. He can read me like a book and that scares me a bit, knowing someone can see most of what I try to hide.

"I'm sorry. I'm gonna… you need your rest." I nod and go to stand up, but am stopped by Daryl taking my hand.

"Hey, no running remember? You was telling me earlier, it's okay to let someone help… so let me help." Keeping his hold loose to allow me to pull away if I wanted. He wants to help. He understands my want to run away.

He was right. I'd feel like a hypocrite if I got him to open up and then ran because I was too afraid to. Looking at him, while I can see the bit of vulnerability in his eyes, I know he wants to help.

"I hate that he still has power over me…" Sitting back beside Daryl. "I hate that I allow it. I allow it like I allowed him to rape and beat me."

I said it out loud. Admitted to some of what he did to me. I don't look back at Daryl, keeping my eyes down, fingers brushing the frayed spots on my shorts. He doesn't let go of my hand as he watches me. He doesn't speak, wanting to allow me to get all of this out so maybe I can feel a bit freer from it.

"Ten fucking years. I let him abuse me for ten fucking years. I was a fucking idiot." Shaking my head, at this point not bothering to stop the watering of my eyes.

"You didn't let him do shit. He did that, he chose to do that. You loved him… just like I loved my family. Even when they didn't know I was missing." He soothes. His voice carries his own heavy emotions.

I release his hand and turn a bit, shifting so my legs are crossed and I'm facing Daryl. He watches me, placing a calloused hand on my knee. I need to face him, I need to see how he reacts and brace myself for him wanting nothing to do with me. I know the logical part of me knows better, but my mind is not in a logical state at the moment.

"The first time it happened. He said I owed it to him." My mind played my conversation with Joanne the other day where she told me to let Daryl in and remember he isn't Toby. "After prom. He said he deserved it. I left him for a bit… told myself I would never be one of those women who took men like him back… I was so fucking stupid."

"I don't call that stupid. I call it surviving." Reaching up, he brushes loose hairs from my face.

"Yeah… he was in an accident a few weeks later. Called it karma for hurting the one good thing in his life. Got on his knees and apologized. Abby tried to talk me out, but I took him back." The laugh that escapes me reflects the disgust I have with myself. "I let him back in and things were good for a while. Until they told him he wasn't going to be getting into the college he wanted. He got drunk and yeah… That time I blamed myself, and told myself it was my fault for causing him the stress and the accident. He told me he had the accident because he hadn't wanted to live without me. I was a fucking idiot. The second time he raped me, he convinced me it was my fault…"

Shaking my head, feeling Daryl give my knee a gentle squeeze as his hand rests there, but I can feel the tension in the room. It's too late to turn back now. I pull back and stand up, shaking my head. Daryl has anger in him, but it is clear to see his restraint.

"I'm not running… I just. I need to get the rest of this out or I will end up running." I promise. I need to stand up, need to release this nervous energy in me before I explode.

Daryl watches me, his hands in his lap as I start to pace across the end of the bed. His blue eyes show he wants to be here and be present. I want to run and say I'm sorry for letting this all out when he needs to be healing. He doesn't need to be saddled with the issues that I should be dealing with on my own. I feel selfish.

"Get it out. You'll feel better. Get it out and remember what I said… I'll help with the pieces." He assures me and sets me with a look that tells me not to argue this. He's here and he is willing to protect me, to defend me. Just as I am him.

"I know and just… I don't deserve it." I shake my head, the look Daryl gives me is raw and while he has underlying anger, none of it is directed at me.

I wring my hands a bit and flex my fingers as bare feet move across the wood floor. The look Daryl gives me reflects that I should not even try and argue with him. He can read me like a book, he has said and proven.

"I got pregnant the second time. A little girl. I was going to name her Aurora. She was the one good thing he ever gave me. A few months later he threw me through a glass-top table and I ended up miscarrying. He laughed at me and told me it was for the best, my baby didn't need a whore for a mother. We had been fighting because he was cheating on me, he accused me and said he wasn't even sure the baby was his. He was the only man I had ever been with." Shaking my head, crossing my arms over my chest to subconsciously protect myself. "By then I was broken. I started fighting back and bloodied him as much as he did me. I thought there was no point in leaving. He'd broken my heart and my body, robbed me of my little girl."

I stop my pacing as I hear Daryl get to his feet. While he doesn't reach for me, his presence towers over me slightly. Like he is there to protect me from everything I'm revealing. His jaw is set, but his gaze comforts me. While many may think it odd to just spill your guts, I'm the opposite and if I don't get this out now, it is going to eat me alive. I have been letting this fester since I realized the past few weeks that I care greatly about Daryl and feared him seeing the disaster I am. I feel small under his gaze, but also like nothing can hurt me.

"I told myself what was the point anymore? We'd fight and he'd force himself on me. We'd fight, then drink and pass out. I'm by no means a saint, but I tried to be decent. I tried my best to love him and stupidly thought I was enough." Hiding my face in my hands.

"Maybe it was him who wasn't enough? You didn't force him to rape you. You didn't force him to put his hands on you. He was a grown man and fucking knew better. Don't matter how bad it gets, you never put your hands on a woman." His tone was low, keeping to himself that half of his beatings from his father were from protecting a mother that willfully neglected him.

"Yeah. Everyone tried to tell me. But no one understood. Who was going to want me? Who would have wanted someone like me? I'm bruised and broken." Holding up my arms to show him the scars across my wrist and forearms. Long, raised scars that ran from my wrist, up my forearm a few inches. Jagged, faint lines further up where razor met skin.

"I slit my wrist twice. Abby found me the first time after I lost Aurora and the second time Toby took me to the hospital, I'm guessing because he was there when I woke up in the hospital. I started cutting after because I needed a release and to feel something. I've been numb for a long time and have learned to turn off my emotions." He knows the rest, me explaining how I went into autopilot the other night. Which I am fighting against doing at the moment because if there is a chance at anything between Daryl and me, I have to trust him.

He takes my hands in his, holding my wrist for a moment before pressing his lips to the raised skin of my scars. This is where I shatter. I let him release my wrists and pull me to him. My arms wrap around him, careful of his stitches and my forehead rests on his chest. His hands rub my back as I sob, shoulders shaking. This man has proven a million times over that he is nothing like how he is perceived by others. I am still guilt-ridden over comparing him to Toby, of ever thinking he could ever be like the son of a bitch. I know I will pay for it, but I hope Toby is dead. I hope he's burning in hell where he belongs.

I feel Daryl press a kiss to my hair, my eyes closing as I hold on to him as if he were my lifeline and I'm afraid if I let go I'll fall and never stop. This is hard for me and Daryl senses it. It's why he has stayed mostly quiet and allowed me to let this all out.

"I want you, Murphy…" He confesses.

"Why?" I pull back a bit to look at him, red-rimmed eyes meeting his gaze as I swallow thickly.

"Because you don't make me feel alone. You give me a safe space and I like having you close." Wiping my cheeks, he kisses my forehead.

My eyes close when he kisses my forehead, tears having slowed as I sigh, my fingers pressing into his shoulder blades.

"I'm broken." I admit.

"So am I. But you make it better and I'll make damn sure to find all them pieces and ain't no one going to hurt you. I'll end them before they can even look at you funny." His tone carries a growl of possessiveness and instead of shying away, I lean into it. I welcome this energy he gives.

His eyes tell me all I need to know. His lips find mine long enough to press a gentle kiss to him. His forehead rests against mine as his fingers trail down the middle of my back. I've bared my soul to him, telling myself it wouldn't lead to violence. It wouldn't end with us beaten and bloody and him mocking me. He has bared himself as well, even now opening up because he feels as safe with me as I do with him.

"Can I ask you something?' I murmur, hands still resting on his shoulder blades.

"Anything you want, Kitten." Giving me a gentle squeeze as he sways a bit with me.

"Kiss me?" Pulling back just a bit to look up at him. "Just like the night at the CDC. As silly as it sounds… I need to feel something other than my heart breaking."

One hand stays on my back, the other comes to cup my cheek. We're both vulnerable, both exposed and this is new for both of us. For me, it's raw and real. It's new and I'm not afraid to explore it. I remember hearing him talking to Josh about relationships, how he'd never given much thought past meaningless hookups.

When his lips meet mine, it's sweet and soft. While not as rough as the other night, I can feel the emotion in the kiss. The tip of his tongue brushes my bottom lip as if asking for entrance. Mine responds, sliding over his and tasting the sweetness and spice that lingers with his kiss. He is easy to get lost in as we stand in the silence of the bedroom. It's been an emotional day for us both.

The kiss lingers for a moment before breaking. My cheeks are wet with tears, and I hate that I've done more crying in the last hour than I have in years.

"Let me take ya to bed, Murphy." His thumb brushed my cheek. "Trust me?" He asks.

"Always." I respond softly.

He guides my back into bed, pulling the blankets back and letting me settle in, resting on my side as he settles in as well. Laying on his side, we face one another. He takes my hand, kisses my knuckles, and rests our joined hands on the bed between us.

"Are you sure?" My eyes conveyed how I questioned his comment about wanting me.

"Wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it." His eyes displayed the conviction in his words. "We're both broken, but that don't mean we gotta stay that way. You're my kitten, I'll always want ya, Murph. I ain't gonna leave and maybe while I'm finding some of those lost pieces for you, I'll find some of my own"

"When'd you get so smart, Dixon?" My tone is light as I sniffle away the last of my tears.

"Fallin' down that cliff knocked some sense into me." He chuckles.

I can feel the weight lifting off me. I bared it all for him, fearing rejection and he soothed my tattered soul. I'm still hurting, still raw with emotion and I am struggling not to retreat into myself, even if on the outside I'm fine. It was only fair though, I asked him to trust me earlier and he had asked me tonight to trust him, even though I doubt he is keeping score.

"Come'ere." He tugs me so I curl against him.

My head tucks under his chin, nose buried against his chest. I feel like I can hide here like there is nothing in the world that can hurt me. I feel him rub my back as he tells me to sleep, that we both need it. There is more time to talk in the morning. I can't help but sigh in agreement as one arm slides around him, resting above his bandaged side to not hurt him. He continues to rub my back, lips pressing to the top of my head as we lay there. This is new for me. I have never allowed myself to be as open as I had been and let someone in. I admit part of me is still afraid my heart will end up broken into more pieces, but I have to trust Daryl. I have to stop being afraid. Trust him as he trusts me.

Better said than done.

I just let Daryl hold me for the night and return the favor. At the end of the day we are just both products of our pasts and both trying to survive. We have a long way to go, but part of me knows we will get to where we need to be.