A/N: The story could very well end there, but I couldn't resist an epilogue! :D

Epilogue: Truths and Consequences

Daisy handed Tim a cup of tea, smiling at the simple pleasure such an ordinary, mundane action could bring her. She would never again wish for a more exciting life. All the excitement from now on could be on the pages of the novel she felt suddenly inspired to write, a first foray into science fiction, which may involve zombies. Daisy placed her own tea on the coffee table, dragged the bean bag over to the sofa, so she could be beside Tim, and flopped down on it. Tim was kneeling on the floor, still wearing his torn, bloodstained clothing and with streaks of vivid red on his face. He was leaning over Mike, who lay shirtless on his back on the sofa. Tim's hands, the only bit of him he had taken the time to clean, were stroking tenderly over Mike's body. He was cleaning his wounds with swabs, gently rubbing in antiseptic cream and applying bandages and dressings. Mike drew quick, sharp breaths when Tim had to apply cream to a particularly sore gash on his shoulder.

"Sorry." Tim said, wincing in sympathy. "It'll feel better in a minute." Tim comforted him with his touch, caressing an uninjured part of his head, running his fingers through his hair to distract him from the pain.

"Mmmm Timmy." Mike murmured in response to the gentle pressure of Tim's fingers on his scalp.

"Is that alright? Not hurting you am I?"

"Uh, no! S'nice. Don't stop."

Tim smiled and continued lavishing his attention on Mike. Daisy sat on the beanbag, cradling her cup of tea. The TV in front of her was on quietly, but just to provide the background noise that she knew made Mike feel secure. The flat was warm and cosy and familiar. She was exhausted but blissfully happy as she watched Tim and Mike. She felt none of her previous jealousy, understanding and respecting their relationship now she had her own special place in Tim's affections. She raised one arm to prop it behind her head, and Mike reached out to slide his hand into hers. She smiled at him, and gave his fingers a little squeeze. She observed Tim for a moment, dealing with one injury after another.

"They really hurt you, didn't they?" Daisy said, her voice soft and sorrowful. Mike screwed his face up, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, as though trying to block out the memories of what he had endured. Tim noticed his reaction and frowned.

"You can tell us about it if you want." He suggested. "Or not. Totally up to you."

Mike seemed to consider this for a moment and then nodded, taking a deep breath.

"It was... horrible." He started so uncharacteristically quietly, Daisy had to lean in to hear him. "There were about four of them... at least I think there were. All a bit hazy if truth be told." Daisy squeezed his fingers again, encouraging him to continue. "I... was... chained up... to the wall... and they used cricket bats and... whips... and their fists and their boots." Mike mumbled. Neither Tim nor Daisy moved a muscle, their breaths unconsciously held to prevent distracting Mike from his, hopefully therapeutic, recollections. "It hurt so much, Tim." Mike's voice was starting to crack. "I tried to be strong. I tried not to show the pain. I thought about you. I was trying to mentally take myself out of the situation. Standard technique for withstanding interrogation." His tone strengthened as he spoke of the military procedures in which he was confident. "I do remember thinking, though, that I was glad they weren't trying to get information out of me. Because I would have cracked for sure." He sounded morose, now, and defeated. "I'm weak. Not fit for service as it happens."

Tim was evidently not willing to remain silent while Mike berated himself like that.

"That's not true. You weren't Sergeant Watt in there. You weren't even human." Tim ducked down to get in Mike's line of sight. "I wish I could have stopped it, but you were brave, Mike. You're not weak, if it was me I probably wouldn't have survived what they did to you. I just wish I had those bastards here now, then we'd see how brave they are!"

"That was pretty cool how you took out those guards with the axe!" Mike perked up.

"An axe, eh?" Daisy asked, raising an eyebrow at Tim, remembering the Philippa Forrester moment. Tim waved his hand dismissively.

"It was nothing, You distracted him with the flaming torch, which made my job easy."

Daisy's eyes widened.

"There were flaming torches?"

"A lot of shit went down, Daisy." Tim said solemnly.

"Sounds like it. What happened after the collectors came for you?"

"Were you here? When they took Tim?" Mike asked.

"Yes. But we knew they were coming so I hid in Ti... the bedroom."

"Hang on, you knew they w..." Mike gasped as realisation dawned on him. He looked at Tim in horror.

"Did you eat those biscuits... on purpose?"

"It was the only way I could get you out of there."

There was a silence as Mike absorbed this.

"You did that... for me?"

"Well that and I've always wanted to be a zombie, haven't I." Tim laughed, trying to make light of it.

"Timmy... thank you... I..."

"Don't be daft, you'd do the same for me."

Mike nodded resolutely.

"Yes... Of course I would."

"Well then. You don't need to thank me, do you."

"But how did you find me? How did you get into my cell?"

Tim looked uncertain for less than a second, but Daisy saw it.

"Oh that! I found the key! Lucky eh?" He babbled too quickly. "Don't worry about it any more, Mikey, it's over. D'you want to go to bed? You must be knackered."

"That I am, Timmy." Mike hesitated, clearly having something else to say. Daisy looked away, hoping to make him feel comfortable enough to voice the problem, but evidently Tim knew instinctively what it was.

"You can sleep in my room. No need to tackle all those stairs, is there." And then he added in a low voice. "And I'll be right out here if you need me."

Mike nodded his businesslike nod. Tim stroked his hair one last time then stood up, helped him to his feet and steered him towards the bedroom. Daisy tidied up in the kitchen whilst Tim settled Mike in his bed and sat with him for a while. She could hear Tim talking quietly, and Mike's drowsy replies becoming less and less frequent. She caught a glimpse through the open door of Tim holding his hand and stroking his forehead, as though soothing a frightened child. Once Mike was finally asleep, Tim took some clean clothes and, leaving the bedside light on behind him, he headed into the bathroom. Daisy watched him strip off his torn t shirt to reveal long, deep scratches down his back. The reddened, swollen skin looked extremely painful, yet Tim had not uttered a word about his own injuries for the entire time they had been home. All his attention had been focused on easing Mike's pain, both emotional and physical. She felt another stab of affection for him, her stomach flipping at the thought that he could be so sweet and gentle when taking care of Mike but, by the sound of it, equally vicious and brutal when protecting him during the escape. And then there had been that tiny awkward moment when, she was fairly confident, Tim had lied about how he got the key to Mike's cell. That warranted investigation, as she suspected he may be covering up even more selflessness, the knowledge of which might have made Mike feel guilty, or indebted to him. As she sat back down on the beanbag, Tim emerged from the bathroom having washed the blood off his face. He was wearing clean jeans and, in what she could only assume was an attempt at ironic humour, his 'Dawn of the Dead' t shirt.

"Budge up, then." He nudged her arm with his knee, indicating he wanted her to make space for him. Daisy shifted over and he sat down carefully, gritting his teeth as the bean bag touched his back. He raised an arm to wrap around her shoulders and she moved in against his chest, breathing in the delicious smell of him, luxuriating in the warmth of his body. Tim heaved out a long breath and tightened his arm around her, pulling her in closer.

"You were amazing tonight." He said, turning his head to kiss her temple. She smiled at the touch of his lips and the brush of his facial hair. She snuggled into the crook of his neck and wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms. But the question had to be asked.

"You know earlier, when Mike asked you about getting the key to his cell?" She felt Tim's body stiffen slightly.

"Mmmm?"

"You didn't tell him the whole story, did you?" Tim did not reply, but she felt him swallowing nervously. "You can tell me, you know, if something happened to you that you don't want Mike to know. I wouldn't blab to him, or anyone else for that matter."

More silence. More gulping. Possibly a stifled sniffle. She waited, staying cuddled against him, avoiding pulling back and pressuring him with eye contact. When he eventually spoke, his voice was shaky.

"You're right. Something did happen." There was another long pause. "Sarah had Mike and she was telling the guards to... do things to him. Horrible things. Things no doctor would be able to make right, things that would affect him his whole life." Daisy shuddered, but did not ask for specifics. "She said..." He broke off, his voice strained, and took a deep breath. "She said she wouldn't hurt him if I... I had no choice, Dais, I promise you. I would never... She showed me him on a screen, all chained up and terrified! They were going to burn him with red hot metal! Brand him! And then... worse! I had to... do whatever she wanted!" Tim's voice finally broke and he gave a strangled sob. Daisy gasped, horrified, as she realised what Tim was trying to say.

"She made you..." She searched for the most sensitive way to put it but decided plain speaking would at least avoid confusion. "Are you saying she forced you to have sex with her?" She felt Tim's whole body cringe at her words and he nodded, unable to say it out loud himself. She finally pulled away to look at him. His thin veneer of strength had collapsed. All his usual confidence, cockiness and male pride had vanished. Tears were running down his face. He looked broken, miserable and humiliated.

"I'm so sorry, Dais." He gasped. "I would never do that to you... you know... voluntarily." He wiped his face on his sleeve. "I couldn't let them... Mike... They were going to... she said to... castrate..." Tim struggled over the word. "...him. Like he was an animal or something!" Daisy was speechless, horrified and furious, which Tim obviously saw in her face. "I'm so sorry. I know you won't..." He took another gasp of air, seemed to force himself to be resolute. "You won't want to be with me any more and I understand that. I hope we can still be friends, but if you want me to move out..."

"Tim!" She admonished, even more horrified now. "I do not want you to move out! And of course I still want to be with you! This was not your fault! She threatened you! She made you! She... she... urrghhh! I want to rip out her spine!" Daisy cried. Tim blinked in surprise.

"You're not angry at what I did?"

"Not with you! And it's like you said to Mike. He wasn't himself in there and neither were you. So she didn't even get you. Not the real you. Not the one with me now." Tim was looking at her in astonishment.

"You... you still want to be with me?" He asked.

"Of course I do." She confirmed. "I'm only going to say this once so listen up. You are the bravest, kindest, most loyal, most selfless man I have ever met." She paused for effect. "And I love you." She leaned in and kissed him slowly. When she pulled back they were both breathless. Tim swallowed, still looking slightly bewildered.

"You're pretty amazing yourself... and I love you too."

She smiled at him and then snuggled down onto his chest again, nuzzling into a comfortable position. She felt Tim wrap his arms tightly around her and rest his head on top of hers. She sighed heavily. Despite the horror of what he had just told her, Daisy was happy. Tim and Mike were safe, that was all that mattered. She suspected there might be further repercussions from this, as Tim came to terms with the reality of effectively being raped. But Daisy hoped he now knew that she would be there to help him recover.

The quiet of the flat and the warmth of their bodies cuddled together was immensely soporific, not to mention the fact that neither had slept properly for two days. Eyes drifted closed. Breathing slowed. As they fell asleep in each others arms, neither of them noticed the heel of Tim's left sock was stained with a slowly expanding patch of red...

THE END

AN: I always think epilogues are kind of optional, so if you don't like the twist, pretend it doesn't exist! :) (Ooooh, that rhymes! Lol!)

Please let me know your thoughts, and huge thanks to those of you kind enough to have already written reviews and added this story to your favourites, it is MUCH appreciated! xxx :D