𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔽𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 | Daryl Dixon

31 | BATTLE OF WOODBURY

They weren't sure how long they'd been sat in that room, but Tori, Glenn, and Maggie hardly moved the whole time.

The young couple sat side by side, hand in hand as they waited in silence for whatever came next. Tori sat a few feet away, legs sprawled out in front of her, hand rested over her bruised ribs. Her eyes kept flickering closed, the pain wiping her energy the longer she sat there.

"Tori," Glenn called gently. "C'mon, you gotta stay awake, okay?"

The brunette gave a nod, blinking her eyes rapidly to try and snap herself awake. She still shivered with the coolness of the room biting at her skin, still just in her bra. Her hair was down, tangled at the ends, fanned out over her back and shoulders, right down to her hips.

She hadn't spoken a word since they'd been left in the room. She'd barely so much as looked at the others. Her body exposed, scars of her arms and stomach on full display. She still felt like the Governor could see her somehow through the walls, feeling his grim eyes lurking on her body, his hands grabbing at her, stroking through her hair like she was some kind of possession. A doll to be fondled and played with however he so chose. Disgusting.

The only person she had grown comfortable enough to let see her fully, was Daryl. It took time over their relationship for her to feel better about things like taking her shirt off in front of him, letting him see all the broken parts of her she'd vowed to forever conceal. To let him touch her, treat her with gentleness that came surprisingly natural to him.

She thought about him to keep herself grounded, telling herself that he would come and find her, if she just waited long enough.

Glenn looked from Tori to Maggie, seeing the fear behind his girlfriend's eyes as she stared off into space, hugging her knees. He was covered in blood and bruises, beaten to a pulp, yet the worst pain he'd suffered that day was the moment the Governor had dragged Maggie into the room, no t-shirt or bra, tears in her eyes as the evil man hugged her, then shoved her over.

"Maggie," Glenn softly spoke. "Did he-"

"No," Maggie quickly shook her head, not wanting to even hear Glenn suggest what he was about to. "No. He barely touched me."

Her gaze drifted across to Tori, watching her tremble. Wondering if her experience was any different.

Glenn looked at her too, dread in the pit of his stomach as he remembered that one day. The day he and Tori had agreed to never talk about. To never bring up to each other, or to anyone else. Maybe it was time to break that agreement. But not right now.

"All this time, running from walkers," Maggie uttered shakily. "You forget what people do. What they've always done. Look at what they did to you."

Glenn could feel the burn of his bruises, the swelling around his eye, the blood drying on his skin. "Doesn't matter," he whispered, really not caring about his own pain. "Just as long as he didn't..."

"No, I promise," Maggie said, quiet. She leaned against Glenn, mindful of his injuries, pulling him into a comforting hug.

With his head rested on his girlfriend's shoulder, Glenn's eyes moved across to Tori once again, seeing she hadn't moved, her own gaze stuck to the rotten dead body lying in the corner of the room. A walker killed by Glenn when Merle threw it into the room. Somehow destroying the very chair he was taped to, he'd managed to take the walker out.

Smashed up furniture and clutter all removed, so now, the walker was all that was left in that room with them, its stench making the enclosed place smell of death.

"What do we tell Daryl?" he whispered the question that had been bouncing around his head from the moment Merle jumped them at the parking lot.