After everyone was done with their food, Dr. Jenner started showing them around. No one said anything when they found Rosie sitting on the floor in the hallway. She just silently joined the rest of the group in following Dr. Jenner.

"Most of the facility is powered down," he said, leading them down a dimly lit hallway. "Including housing, so you'll have to make do here. The couches are comfortable, but there are cots in storage if you like. There's a rec room down the hall that you kids might enjoy. Just don't plug in the video games, ok? Or anything that draws power. The same applies. If you shower, go easy on the hot water." The doctor walked away without another word, leaving the group to do what they like.

They all looked at each other, smiles growing on their faces. "Hot water?" Glenn asked excitedly.

"That's what the man said," T-Dog replied with a chuckle.

Everyone began to split off, most of the adults going and picking a room. Rosie made sure to take note of which rooms they picked, just in case she needed to find someone for whatever reason.

Rosie stood still where she was in the hallway, unsure of where to go. She walked around for a bit, making sure she knew where everyone was. She tried to decide where she would sleep that night, but eventually decided it was pointless. She would just have to stay awake.

After wandering around for a bit, Rosie ended up back in the same place. She was standing in the hallway again when Shane tapped her arm. She jumped a little and turned around to look at him. His hair was wet, so Rosie assumed he had already showered.

"What?" Rosie asked when Shane took to long to say anything, looking around the hall to avoid his eyes.

"You can use the shower in the room I'm stayin' in. I'll show you where it is," Shane told her. She gave him a blank stare.

"Why do I gotta shower?" she eventually asked.

Shane laughed a little. "'Cause you're a mess. You got blood and dirt all over ya," he said. He didn't look angry or sound angry, but the words he was saying were angry words in Rosie's mind. She eyed the bottle of wine in his hands. God, she was sick of adults and their stupid alcohol.

After staring for a few seconds, Rosie shrugged and went off to get her bag. She found her bag in the kitchen area everyone was in before. With nowhere else to go, she decided she would have to shower. So after making sure Shane was gone, she took a fast shower. She didn't have any clean clothes, so she had to put the dirty ones back on. She didn't want to ask Carol to borrow any of Sophia's clothes because the neck would probably go too low. That's why Rosie stuck with boys' fit shirts; they covered her collarbones.

With a small sigh, Rosie ventured out into the hallway again. She thought maybe she could get comfortable on the couch in the rec room, even if she couldn't exactly sleep. When she got there, she stopped as the door, which was slightly cracked open, suddenly slammed shut. Weird.

Standing silently outside the door, Rosie listened intently. She heard Shane talking. He sounded different than before. He was probably really drunk, Rosie decided. He sounded a little irritated and his voice was low and scratchy. She couldn't tell who he was talking to or what exactly he was saying, so she pressed her ear up to the door to hear better.

Rosie could hear Shane as he was yelling something about machines and gunfire. His voice kept getting louder and he started talking quicker. It reminded Rosie of her dad when he got really worked up.

She could hear a woman's voice- she thought it might've been Lori. The woman's voice was high-pitched and panicked sounding. She was scared. So, Rosie quietly opened the door the tiniest bit. If Shane was like her dad, maybe she could help Lori. Fraser sometimes used to help Rosie when she got in trouble. Maybe Rosie could do the same for Lori.

When she peaked into the room, Rosie saw Lori sitting on some sort of table. Shane was standing in front of her, bent over a little to reach her eye level as he started talking quietly. Shane started getting closer and Lori started pushing him away.

Rosie panicked a little when Lori started to whimper. She wanted to help Lori, but she was starting to chicken out. If Shane really was like her dad, then would he beat her too? Suddenly, Lori reached up and scratched Shane, forcing him to back off.

Lori pushed him away, and he turned. That's when he saw Rosie peaking through the doorway. When Rosie made eye contact with him, she officially chickened out. Shane's eyes widened for a second before going dark. Rosie's blood ran cold.

"Rosie," Shane said with a low growl of a voice. He stood up straighter, taking fast strides towards the door. Rosie looked at Lori quickly. Her eyes were wide and she looked scared, too. Even more scared than she looked when they were outside with all of the walkers.

If Lori was more afraid of Shane than she was of the walkers, Rosie did not want to face the wrath of the man. So, she backed away quickly before turning around and booking it down the hallway. Her heart thumped hard in her chest and her head felt loud as she ran.

The sound of Shane's boots stepping quickly behind her made her run even faster. Rosie was terrified. She was sure that if Shane caught up to her, he would beat her just like her dad did. So she ran to the room claimed by the only person she knew to go to: Daryl.

Daryl had given her a ride to the CDC when she wouldn't go with anyone else. He was grumpy, sure, but he still let her come with. He also seemed to be the only person who ever understood what she was talking about when it came to her dad. Not to mention that he'd also busted his ass to get her back from the vatos.

He would help her again, right?

Rosie ran as fast as she could and practically slammed into Daryl's door to stop herself. She was glad she took note of which room he went into earlier, or else she'd be screwed.

Looking back at Shane as he angrily marched towards her, Rosie repeatedly slammed the side of her fist against Daryl's door. She could only pray he was awake and could hear her knocking.

She only got to knock for a few seconds, though, because soon enough, Shane had grabbed onto her shoulder and roughly pulled her away from the door. "Stop! Be quiet!" he said to her sternly. He was speaking quietly, but somehow Rosie still felt like he was screaming at her.

As Shane's grip on her arms tightened, Rosie struggled hard, kicking and thrashing, but it was no use. Shane pushed her up against the wall, pinning her there with his hands on her biceps. "You keep your mouth shut. You hear me? You didn't see anything, you didn't hear anything," he basically growled at the girl.

When Rosie gave no response, Shane pulled her closer to him roughly. Rosie flinched when he did, closing her eyes tight and bracing for impact. She prepared herself to feel the old, familiar sting of a fist slamming into her cheekbone.

"Hey!" Shane shook her whole body. "Look at me! Open your eyes and look at me! You listenin' to me?!"

Rosie refused to open her eyes. Her breaths were quick and shaky as she tried not to cry. She wasn't supposed to cry. This was just another punishment. She had no reason to cry.

He slammed her up against the wall again, but a little bit violently this time, and suddenly, Rosie was back at home. She was in the hallway after being caught up past her bedtime. Her dad was pinning her against the wall with one arm as the other reached down to unbuckle his belt. Rosie kept her eyes closed. She stopped her struggling, ready for the beating, but it never came.

"What the hell's goin' on?!" Daryl said, irritation evident in his voice as he stepped out of his room. He had been sleeping, but the sound of someone slamming on his door had woken him up.

Shane looked back at him, but decided to ignore him. He looked back at Rosie. Her eyes were open again, wide open. She was staring at Daryl and suddenly started struggling in Shane's grip again.

"Rosie, I need you to listen to me!" Shane shouted in her face.

His hand started to dig into her arm, and she started whimpering in pain. She tried not to, but it hurt too bad.

"The fuck is wrong with you?! You're hurtin' 'er!" Daryl shouted, suddenly stepping closer to the two.

"This is none of your business, Dixon!" Shane shouted, not even bothering to look back at him. He hoped Daryl would just go back into his room and be drunk enough to forget it. He didn't.

Daryl took fast strides towards them and gripped Shane's shoulder, pulling him up before pushing him back towards the opposite wall. "Sure as hell is my business! I'm watchin' ya scare the shit outta a lil' girl!"

Shane pushed Daryl right back. "I'm just talking to her," he said gruffly.

"Bullshit," Daryl growled out, stepping closer to Shane. "You saw what 'er dad was like! You oughta be dumb as fuck if ya think ya ain't scarin' her!"

"Fuck you, man! You don't know what the hell you're talkin' about! Why don't you just back off!" Shane shouted as he pushed Daryl away.

If any of them knew what they were talking about when it came to the type of dad that Rosie had, it was Daryl.

Just as Daryl was ready to throw a punch, Rick and T-Dog showed up. They quickly stepped in, pushing the two men apart and telling them both the chill out.

By that point Rosie was sitting on the floor, pressing her hands hard against her ears and digging her nails into her skull. Her eyebrows were furrowed, but her eyes were terrified.

T-Dog and Rick looked at the girl, confused why she was even there, but didn't say anything.

Shane looked at the girl and all he could think about was what she saw him doing. Did she know what he was doing? Was she going to tell someone?

Daryl looked at the girl and felt his stomach churn. The way she sat there, terrified, sad, and angry, all at once, reminded him of himself when he was a little kid. He remembered watching Merle get into fights with their dad after he got beat. He remembered being held up against a wall, just waiting to be hit.

All of the adults went back into their respective rooms to calm down, or maybe get even more drunk than they already were. This left Rosie alone on the hallway floor. Each adult assumed that one of the other people involved would take care of her for the night, but since they all thought someone else was doing it, no one did.

Not until about a minute later when Daryl opened his door again, wanting to check and make sure that the girl was taken care of. Instead of the empty spot on the floor of the hallway he hoped to see, he saw Rosie still sitting there. Her hands were no longer pressed against her ears, but were now on the floor at her sides. Her hands were balled into fists. Her left hand was resting on the ground while she banged the side of her right hand onto the floor repeatedly.

"Kid," Daryl spoke up. She flinched when he spoke and looked up at him quickly. "You got somewhere to sleep?" he asked.

After thinking it through, Rosie responded with a simple shake of the head. Daryl backed up a bit to hold the door open before nodding his head inside. Hesitantly, Rosie stood up and walked into Daryl's room.

"You can sleep on the cot," Daryl said, nodding towards a cot that was set up in the corner of the room.

"What about you?" Rosie asked. Her voice was quiet and a little shaky.

"I got the couch. Prob'ly would've crashed on it, anyway," Daryl told her as he plopped down onto the couch on the other side of the room.

Rosie climbed onto the cot, careful to be quiet. She didn't want to make Daryl mad. He already almost got into a fight with Shane because of her. "Thank you," she said after lying down. It wasn't for letting her sleep on the cot.

"Yeah," Daryl mumbled as a response. He reached over to the lamp and turned it off.

It was silent for about a minute before Rosie decided to say what she had been thinking about. "Sorry for callin' ya old," she said.

Daryl scoffed out a laugh. "Don't worry, I didn't give a shit," he said. "Now go ta sleep."

For some reason, after everything horrible that happened that day, Rosie felt like smiling a little bit, but she didn't. She still felt some sort of impending doom.

An hour passed quickly and Rosie still couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned, trying to get her mind to quiet. No matter how many times she tried, every time Rosie closed her eyes, instead of darkness, she'd see her dad.

What Rosie didn't know was that her tossing and turning was keeping Daryl up, too. If she had known, she would've just bared the restlessness and laid still. With a sigh, she turned from lying on her left side to lying on her back for what felt like the hundredth time.

"What's yer problem?" Daryl suddenly asked, making Rosie jump up into a sitting position. She looked over at him as her heart rate fell back to a normal rate. He was lying on the couch, his head tilted a little to look at her. "Can't sleep?"

"Don't know," Rosie mumbled, fidgeting with the blanket Daryl gave her.

"What're ya thinkin' 'bout?" Daryl asked. He sounded incredibly tired, like all he wanted to do was close his eyes and go to sleep. But he couldn't sleep knowing that the kid was still up, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

"Lots a' stuff," Rosie replied.

Daryl scoffed. "What stuff? That's the whole damn point of the question."

"Don't know. This place. Fraser. Shane.... My dad."

Unsure of whether or not to ask about what Shane was doing earlier, or who the hell Fraser was, Daryl just looked at Rosie. She wasn't looking back at him anymore. She was sitting up on the cot, sitting criss-cross with her chin resting on her hand. She stared straight forward, undoubtedly avoiding his eyes.

"What about 'em?" he eventually asked.

"Everyone here thought that they'd have the answers but they didn't. Now they think this place is gonna be good, but it's not. I don't get it," Rosie started to explain.

She paused for a moment, waiting for Daryl to cut in and tell her to shut up and go to sleep, but he didn't. His silence beckoned her to keep talking.

"Everyone always thought everythin' was good. When I was little, Fraser would say it didn't matter if everythin' was shit then, 'cause someday it was gonna be so good. But it was just a bunch a' bullshit. 'Cause it's never gonna get any better."

"They like ta have hope. Makes 'em wanna keep goin'," Daryl said.

"I keep goin' 'cause I have to," Rosie replied. There was maybe a minute of silence after that, and Rosie laid back down, thinking the conversation was over. It wasn't.

With a sigh, Daryl began to speak again. "I know ya feel like... fuck, I don' know. I guess, different from 'em," he admitted.

Rosie furrowed her eyebrows and turned in the cot to look at Daryl. "But I'm not different."

"Yeah ya are."

"What?"

"Ya ain't like them."

"Why?" Rosie asked, her expression less angry and more confused, and maybe even a little disheartened.

"Ya just aren't. And I ain't either. Nothin' wrong with it, though. Ya just gotta accept instead of bein' mad about it," Daryl told her.

She nodded and thought about his words for a moment before coming up with another question. "Is it 'cause of my daddy?"

Daryl glanced over at her from his spot on the couch and saw that her expression seemed kind of... unbothered. So he figured he could answer honestly without making the girl cry or something. "Prob'ly," he grumbled out. "Yer dad didn't care much 'bout ya. But that's different here. It ain't like that no more."

"Oh," was all Rosie said.