Winnie pressed her face into his shoulder, despite the pressure it put on her eye. It wasn't an that bad as it was mostly the opposite side connected with his body, but everything hurt anyway, so what was the difference?

Sobs wracked her body, everything pouring out into his shirt. Winnie tried to focus on the sound of his voice, the feeling of being safely pressed up against him. There was no safer place for her right now, Dory was making sure of that, but she couldn't rationally wrap her head around it for a long, long time. It was the exhaustion that finally overcame her and subdued the tears into quiet sniffles.

"I soaked your shirt," She managed in little more than a hoarse whisper, feeling the damp fabric against her cheek. They were in such unfamiliar territory for their relationship that she didn't know what else to say.

---

  

---

The few tears of his own that fell into her brown waves went wholly unacknowledged as she sobbed. In all their years of friendship and more he had never held her as she cried. Winnie was a rock, a solid post in the storm that everything blew right off of. She was courageous, a brilliant lioness ready to fight off any foe. To see her so broken broke his heart in turn.

He continued to murmur reassuring promises and hold her snug against him until her sobs turned to quiet whimpers. Even then, it was only her whisper that had him pulling back to see her face. "It doesn't matter. It'll dry." He told her confidently. That he would now have to try and rest with a wet shirt on his shirt was unfortunate, but he still refused to make any move that could be taken as an advance. The last time he'd come to talk wound up with them and her neighbor tangled up in the sheets, Dory simply didn't want to be accused of trying to manufacture a similar situation.

---

  

Winnie wiped at it uselessly, as if the heat of her hand could dry it. "Oh just lose it, you hate sleeping in clothes anyway." That was normal, routine for them; she desperately needed their ordinary right now. Teasing was easy for them to fall back on now that she had cried herself out.

Blowing out a shaky breath, she realized the headache was worse than ever and closed her eyes against the dim light from the window. She was starving and achy and emotional, but didn't know what to do about any of it. She pressed a hand to her temple away from the bruising and tried to think, but her brain was too foggy. She felt like she needed a drink, but the thought of eating or drinking also made her a little nauseous too, so that was a bust. "Thank you," She settled on instead, still trying to sort of figure out a way to make this all make sense, but still coming up short.

---

  

---

He lingered for a few seconds after her instructions, unsure of whether or not to follow through. After all, t would be just as easy to dry his shirt with a spell as it would to disrobe, and if she was willing to separate for the minute it would take then there was really no sense in removing his shirt. Well, no reason except for the fact that she had asked him to. Denying her anything was impossible after listening to her cry it seemed.

He moved to the edge of the bed and abandoned his shirt off the side of it, so his back was turned when she next spoke. There were promises he could make — eager ones that would reveal just how far the depth of his feelings went for her — or he could shrug it off as she seemed eager to do. It wouldn't be fair of him to push her into an emotional conversation right now, and even if he could get past that hurdle he was no longer sure of what exactly he wished to say. The promises would have to wait. Or, better yet, they could stay within him forever so that they might preserve what little was left of their relationship.

"Anytime," Dory said as he rolled back onto his back. "It's nothing you wouldn't do for me."

---

  

Winnie backed away enough to let him decide what to do about this shirt, laying back against the mattress and staring up at the ceiling in the dim light, provided by the street lamps through the window. Gently she prodded the bruises on her neck wincing at the pain. That had been the scariest part...

Then he was sliding back into bed with her and Winnie automatically reached for him, curling into him gratefully, trying to banish the memories of last night. "Still, with the way things have been..." Which she'd hated by the way, but had to let him have his space. "You are always just what I need and I appreciate that." More than words could truly express, at least tonight.

---

  

---

The way things were wouldn't continue, not after tonight. They still needed to talk — both about his leavings and her attacker — but regardless of the outcome Dory wouldn't be staying away for months on end. He'd unknowingly come within inches of losing her permanently. There was no more time to waste.

"I love you." He said softly into the darkness of her room. "I'll be there for you always, whatever the circumstances." He meant it, too. Perhaps that was part of why he'd been shocked by her decision to have an abortion without mentioning it. Perhaps not being seen as an option laid a deeper wound than he wished to admit. "Always." Dory repeated lastly.

---

  

---

beautiful set by lady

Winnie had started drifting off to sleep, the steady beat of his heart and regular rhythm of his breathing had lulled her into feeling like she could finally relax. There were nowhere better for her to be than snuggled against him.

Even his admission of his feelings wasn't quite enough to fight off the exhaustion. "I love you too Dory, always have." She mumbled, echoing the sentiment in a whisper laden with sleep. Despite the damage to her lip, she pressed a kiss to his shoulder, snuggling further into him so there was truly no space between them. Her grip tightened and slowly loosened as she drifted off, focusing once more in his heartbeat to keep her thoughts from wandering.

---

  

---

The wait for her to fully drift off into peaceful sleep was frustratingly slow. While Dory had no intention of leaving the room, he absolutely meant to find out who could act with such cruelty. Knowing what he did of Winnie meant understanding that for her to share the secret would result in another argument, and after six months of silence Dory couldn't stand another disagreement.

He waited until she was snoring softly to slowly edge towards the side of the bed. From there, he beelined to her desk and carefully shuffled through the papers scattered upon it. The countless letters from clients were easily discarded, as were the ones from her family members and known friends. At last, he'd narrowed it down to two suspects, one of whom he knew to be a violent drunk from past run ins. Fuck. Dory could've warned her to stay away from him had he known it was a concern.

He sighed heavily and sank against the edge of the desk. What had she gotten herself into?

---

  

For Winnie, who could usually fall asleep at the drop of a hat, this was a slow, painful process. Her mind kept wandering, and she had to force herself to refocus, to count Dory's heartbeats, to inhale the familiar scent of him and remind herself she was safe and home.

Finally she'd found the right rhythm, succumbing to the overwhelming exhaustion both physically and mentally. She wasn't sure how long she lasted, but it didn't feel so long enough however. Her sleep was fitful and restless as she tossed and turned. Dark images, the feeling of hands on her throat, her consciousness fading... Win woke with a start, sitting bolt upright, crying out for Dory in the dark.

---

  

---

He had only been attempting to calm his racing heart when she suddenly awoke with her broken cry. Immediately, he returned to his side of the bed and reached for her hand. "I'm here, I'm here." Dory murmured. "You're safe."

Merlin. How was she to sleep now if he (or some other reliable, safe lover) wasn't present? Sleep deprivation was just as dangerous as a physical attack, if not worse. Dory knew from experience the paranoia and stress that crept in after days of fitful rest. Winnie didn't deserve that, no one did.

---

  

Winnie hadn't been paying attention to where he'd been, other than he hadn't been next to her. Gasping for air, she frantically reached for him, hands searching for anything she could get ahold of as she pressed her forehead into his shoulder.

Fuck. She wasn't this girl. She didn't whimper and cry because of nightmares; but she also hadn't been slapped around and strangled half to death before this either. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She kept muttering, eyes squeezed shut tight, body shaking, as she tried to dispel the thoughts plaguing her mind.

---

  

---

Rage towards her attacker grew infinitely as she clung to him and apologized. He couldn't fathom ever laying a hand on a woman like this, nor could he picture what might have provoked it. Unless Dory was the victim of direct attempted murder, the worst he could see himself doing was restraining a woman's wrists to prevent her from causing further injury.

There was nothing to be done about it now, though. Not when he couldn't be further than five feet from her without her feeling terrorized once more. Instead, all Dory could do was shift them both so that she was settled on his lap and embrace her. "You have nothing to apologize for." Dory murmured before placing a gentle kiss to her temple. "This isn't your fault."

---

  

It took a few minutes, but again the steady (albeit fast) rhythm of Dory's heartbeat against her cheek managed to bring her back down from the rising panic. She knew this wasn't her fault. Sure she had made a mistake getting involved with the prick who did this to her, but she had no way to know he was an aggressive monster either. No man had any excuse to put his hands on a woman like this.

Still, the unexpected layer of change that had settled over her relationship with Dory wasn't something she could ignore either. Their relationship had never been anything like this. They had lighthearted fun, mixed with mutual satisfaction. Or had, until the whole abortion fiasco. It had changed then too, but now this was altogether different and she didn't know what to do about it either. Not wasn't the time though. All she had room for now was to be grateful for him and the fact that he didn't seem to mind being here.

Her whole body was exhausted, she just wanted to pass out again, but was too anxious that the dreams would return. She had to have something in her bag that would help. Or a strong drink. Either. "Want a drink?" She settled on in a hoarse whisper. He probably needed one just as much as she did.

---

  

---

Several was the reply ready on the tip of his tongue. A drunken stupor was surely the less painful situation to be in at present, especially when he added in the stress of what he'd originally come to discuss. However, Dory knew he couldn't alert her to how her predicament had alarmed him, not when she was likely to blame herself for it.

Nodding once, Dory disentangled himself from her and inched over to the edge of the bed. "Have anything on hand you'd prefer?" He asked. There had to be some shop still open at this time of night, but that then meant leaving her alone. Distantly, Dory wondered how she would now cope on her own. "I can get it for us."

---

  

Wrapping herself up in the afghan from her bed, Winnie felt the need to be securely covered at the moment as Dory moved away form her. It was weird to feel the panic rising simply because her body was no longer touching his. Win forced herselef to take a couple of deep breaths. "Bottom of the wardrobe, need to hide it." Emelia had sent her a bottle for her birthday, good stuff too. "It's gin I think." She honestly didn't care what it was, as long as she could have half the bottle. The glasses were on her desk, but he could easily see those, so she didn't feel the need to point it out. Fuck, they didn't even need them, the bottle would be fine, she just wanted him to come back.

Merlin this was already pathetic.

---

  

---

Any other day, he might've rolled his eyes at her having to hide anything within her own space. It was lodging that she paid for and worked hard to earn, why did some miserable spinster get to dictate whether or not she had gin available in her room? Perhaps some day in the future he would be able to successfully convince her that she deserved more than this. Dory doubted it, though.

It took him only a few seconds to find the bottle and glasses before heading back to the bed. "I have cheaper stuff at mine if you'd rather savor this." Dory said as he poured them both a healthy measure. "Vodka for sure. Might have some gin hiding somewhere."

---

  

---

beautiful set by lady