The Woman at The End of The World. (Daryl Dixon)

ninetyseven.

He lowers himself down while I start to dig into the salad, "I ain't seen ya, and wanted to make sure ya are okay."

"I am now, thanks to Wren and her brilliant intervention." I speak through bites, "I'm sorry I went into hiding without letting anyone know."

His beautiful eyes search my face, "ya still blame me."

I wince, "a part of me is still angry with everyone." I carefully choose my words. "A part of me I have very little control over. Something happened inside of me while I was in there. I don't know how to explain it. When I have a better way to speak about it, you'll be the first to know."

"I wasn't myself when I lost ya and Rick. I'm still kind of lost," he admits.

"That makes two of us." I offer offhandedly.

"Wren told me ya know 'bout Leah."

I grow still under her name. I put my hand up, shaking my head, "I don't want to hear it, Daryl."

"Nah, ya need to. Ya were all I wanted. I thought I could love her, or that I did, but I didn't. Not in the way I love ya. Is that why ya didn't come back?"

"It's more than that," sighing.

"Then tell me. Please," he pleads.

I nod reluctantly, "Caroline, Kellin, go find Uncle James, tell him I told you guys are done for the day, he'll find something for you both to do."

"Yes, Mommy," Caroline speaks, closing her books, heading out of the office with her brother in tow. Kellin offers his goodbyes to his father in passing. I chew on my lip, waiting for the door to close behind them. I stalk over locking it so we don't have any interruptions.

I walk over to the window, glancing out for the second time today. Daryl watches me carefully and curiously. I decide to be as transparent with him as possible. I force myself to become numb, praying I can get through this without being a blubbery, crying mess. I begin my story of the night of the accident, and ending it when he ran into me on the road after killing Owen. I don't leave out any gritty, dirty details, including how I met Leah, and what exactly Owen told me about her. I run a hand through my hair, offering some details of my six year absence

I allow all the information to settle into his soul while I fiddle anxiously with my fingers, unable to see his reaction. For a few minutes, he remains as silent as possible before I hear sounds of him shifting his position. "Well that explains why she came back so beaten. I should've known right then and there it was the work of my wife. Ya know I thought, some of it seemed familiar. She know it was ya?"

I shake my head, "Owen never told her my identity. Just that I was threat that needed dispatched. I mean that's what he claims."

"I understand now, Blue." He approaches me carefully, wrapping me in his arms. "Ya had to play dead. Ya didn't have a choice. But Owen is wrong. I never felt the way he claimed." His hand cups my chin, forcing me to peer up into his eyes, "ya are a strong, beautiful woman, with or without the scars. I love ya for everythin' ya are and come with. I wouldn't want anyone else at my side, baby. He's lucky it was only ya who got their hands on him. I'm sorry I gave up so easily. I should've believed Charlee and Jesus, but I didn't. I can't take it back. Ya have every right to be angry with me and everyone else. I'm just happy ya givin' me a chance to prove myself."

"Dare, how can you love me when I'm so broken?" I whisper.

"Ya are perfect for me, damaged and all." I bite back the sob that's building at his words. We stand like that for awhile, finding my strength and home in his presence.

The next afternoon, I ended the training session earlier than I had planned. I stalk over with members of the community that joined, setting the weapons down along a table I had James set out for our purposes. Tomorrow, I'll begin with hand to hand combat, not that I want anyone to get close enough to the skins to get injured, or worse. Weapon training will resume when people are no longer tripping over their feet with dangerous items in their hands. So it looks like I'm going to have to start easy before returning into the harder tactics.

I was right; these people grew rusty over the last few years.

I glance over towards the gate, Kelly would be proud, I muse. I'm handing down his training and knowledge of all things violent and bloody to others. The student has truly become the master and teacher.

Last night, Daryl crawled into bed with me for the first time since I returned. I allowed him to sleep soundly away while I dozed off wrapped inside of his arms. It felt like something changed between us since I poured my heart and trauma at his feet. However, at some point, my nightmares found me. He got to witness first hand how badly the night terrors have me in a chokehold. He held me until I was able to find my way back to the here and now.

There's no going back. The redneck and I have seem to have found our footing and are well on the way of mending the brokenness that lies between us.

"Hey Vanessa..." I peer over my shoulder, at the unsure tone dancing through Lydia's voice. I allowed her to stay for as long as she wants before heading towards Alexandria. I promised her I would personally escort her over, knowing I'm completely capable of protecting her. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

I nod, crossing my arms, facing her curiously. "What's up, kid?"

She peers down at her feet, shifting her legs uncomfortably, "you were hurt like my mom hurt me, right? That wasn't some story?"

Sighing, "yeah, it was my authentic self, unfortunately. However, not all abuse is the same, while not all scars are the same."

She chews on her lip in thought, digesting my words before meeting my gaze, "how did you heal?"

I smirk, "I haven't, if I'm being honest. But I did see a therapist before the world fell. She gave me advice that I never took." My stubbornness is truly my weakness.

"What was it?" She inquires.

I survey her face before grinning, "tell you what, kid, I'll give you her secret as long as you promise me one thing."

She cocks her head, baffled, "what?"

"We will do it together." I rest my hand on her shoulder, "we heal together." I confess the secret - writing everything down, no matter how small it is - feelings, thoughts; negative or positive. "I have several notebooks for the twins, I'll steal two. Every night we sit together, in silence at a designated time. We write everything down. Once it's done, we will have a bonfire."

She matches my smile with one of her own, nodding. "Okay," she wraps her arms around me.

"One more thing, I'm here if you ever need to talk. Night or day. You know where my room is. I won't ever let you think you're not welcome here."

"Thank you," I grin, observing her take off. I rest my hand against my heart, noticing something inside of her seems lighter after our conversation. Little does she know, I might need her as much as she needs me right now. I meant what I said, we will heal together. If I'm to lead this community, I need to mend the brokenness inside of me; and my marriage.