[ It's exactly the sort of touch that would normally have helped to put Daryl at ease, but the guilt and the fear boiling in him are too strong for it to make much of a dent, now. He just shakes his head against that hand tightly and swallows, finally coming back to himself when he pulls out of the hug self-consciously.
He isn't okay. He isn't going to be okay until he can do something about this. ]
It's my fault.
[ His voice is a croak and he can't look at Gabe. ]
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He isn't okay. He isn't going to be okay until he can do something about this. ]
It's my fault.
[ His voice is a croak and he can't look at Gabe. ]
I left her there. Missin'. I left.