dadyl | 𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝙱𝙾𝚇 ;

[ Daryl can't help but find himself watching. He thinks he's probably been given permission to do so and watching Gabe mix the saline is one thing.

Watching him reach up and pull his eyes right out of their sockets is something else. Daryl looks away after the first one and suppresses a shudder. They're damn good prosthetics. They look real enough.

And he's never seen Gabe like this before. When he's got them both out Daryl looks at his face through the mirror and almost can't believe it. He looks so different. He also knows Gabe doesn't need to hear that. ]

Wish I could do somethin' to help.

[ Gabe doesn't know what it looks like with the prosthetics out. Not really. But he's heard enough people react to know it probably looks ghastly. Raw flesh, scar tissue. The hollow places where his eyes ought to be and now where nothing sits. Even the scars can't compare.

At least Daryl doesn't say anything.

Gabe exhales, then drops the prosthetics into the empty cup. ]

You really want to, you can -

[ He hesitates, twitching, then exhales again as he picks up the cup of saline. ]

You can help me hold the towel. This part is messy.

[ He does want to. Daryl hates very little more than he hates the feeling of uselessness so he steps forward without hesitation to pick up the towel. He can assume what the next part of the process entails so he unfolds it and keeps it raised, ready to follow directions. ]

Don't wanna do it standin' in the shower?

[ He would have approached the situation exactly the same way Gabe is about to so he's not sure where the suggestion came from. It just seems like it might be convenient. ]

No.

[ It comes out tired more than anything else. Thomas helped him do this the first couple times, going through things with the same methodical care that Thomas does everything and all the while Gabe stood there stock still, burning with fury and twisting embarrassment. He'd felt weak, ashamed. Broken. Unable to do anything himself, utterly reliant on his team and thus a burden to them. The moment he could manage this part himself, he did. And he's handled it ever since, secreting himself away to complete it alone.

And now, for the first time in a very long time, he has an audience.

He bows his head a moment, then twitches and reaches for the cup of homemade saline.

Stop stalling. Man the fuck up. ]

I'm going to tip my head back. Get the saline in. And then I lean forward, and -

[ He tightens his jaw. Angry suddenly. Mostly at himself. ]

And then it makes a mess, but that's what the towel's for.

[ Daryl can see Gabe's jaw working, can hear the anger filtering into his tone. He doesn't blame him. He thinks he'd feel the same way in the same position but that's exactly what leaves Daryl at a loss for how to fix anything. It's just something that has to be worked through. Just one more thing to deal with.

He steps in close, letting Gabe feel the proximity. He brushes the towel against his neck, touching him without quite touching him. ]

'm ready.

[ He would offer to pour, but maybe there's less of a shock to his eye sockets if he knows exactly what to expect. Daryl doesn't want to hurt him any more than he already has been. ]

[ Breathe out. Focus on your task, sniper, and get it done. One step at a time, a sequence long since memorized. You know how it ends.

The body is nothing. So leave it behind.

He exhales sharply. Then - hesitantly - he bumps his arm against Daryl's. A brief touch. But Daryl's here, and that means something. ]

Okay.

[ No more stalling. Best to get it over with quickly. He steels himself, then tips his head back and just pours the saline into the place his right eye used to be. Easier with a syringe but he hasn't got one, so this has to work. And it stings, like it always does, but what's worse is the pervasive feeling of wrongness - his body rebelling against a sensation his lizard brain knows shouldn't be there.

Some of it spills out, running down his face. He knew it would and he hates that too. The mess of it. But he's not done, not yet.

Second round. And he tightens his jaw and dumps the rest into the left socket. ]

Oh, motherfucker.

[ He sets the glass down almost too hard and then drops his head down, burying his face in the towel to hide the worst of it. This is the part he hates the most. When everything has to drain. ]

[ As much as he'd told Daryl that it wouldn't hurt, that it would just sting, there's something keeping Gabe from getting it done - something about the process that's making him lag. Daryl wants to rub his back, comfort him somehow, but he doesn't. He saves that for after this is done.

He's ready when Gabe finally tips his head back and dumps the cup. He raises the towel, wiping at his cheeks where the water has run down, trying to keep his collar dry, and then Gabe just leans forward and dives into it.

Daryl holds him like that, cradling his face, feeling the saline soak the towel and wet his hands. He doesn't shy from it. ]

There. Almost done, right?

[ He doesn't actually know, but it seems the thing to say. ]

[ Gabe makes a strangled noise, only half-muffled by the towel. It stings but that's nothing. He's taken much worse over the years. It barely even qualifies as pain, on balance. That's never been the part that got to him. But the humiliation of it, yeah. That always stung.

Breathe. You're fine. ]

Yeah.

[ Daryl doesn't shy away. Just stays there, holding the towel. ]

Fuck.

[ He can feel it draining from the sockets. The saline, tears, all that shit. Making a mess. But it's like Daryl said, knowingly or not. It's almost done. It never takes long, in the end.

Finally, he draws back. He rubs the towel at his face, trying to get the worst of it off his skin. ]

So. That's fucking gross.

[ Bitter humor. But what can you do, in the end? ]

[ Daryl is steady throughout. He doesn't flinch. When Gabe takes the towel from him to rub his face himself, Daryl lets it go and casually wipes his hands off on his jeans. He shrugs, hardly qualifying this as gross. To him, it isn't. ]

Not really.

[ He sounds utterly unbothered. Like he'd just helped Gabe give himself a haircut or something. ]

An' believe me, I know gross.

[ Daryl reaches out to squeeze his shoulder. He can't tell if it will help or make Gabe bristle, sensitive as he probably is right now, but Daryl wants to make it clear he isn't going anywhere. He isn't disturbed by this in the least. ]

Try wearin' an old corpse's face like a mask. Ain't nothin' so bad after that.

[ This part, at least, doesn't take long. He needs to leave the prosthetics out for a while longer or everything will get swollen in a way every goddamn sinner in Hell will notice, but at least he doesn't have tears and saline pooling up in his empty eye sockets anymore. Small favors.

Gabe snorts, lowering the towel. ]

Wait, seriously? Why?

[ That wasn't quite a laugh but Daryl is proud of getting that sound out of Gabe anyway. Sometimes distraction is all that helps, so Daryl answers willingly. ]

Guess I haven't told you much 'bout where I come from.

[ Even though Gabe can't see him, Daryl looks him in the face. The empty sockets are spooky and make the backs of his thighs itch a little. But he'll get used to it. ]

There were these... people. Another group of survivors, only they'd found a different way to stay alive. They skinned walkers and wore 'em like costumes. Disguises. Then they walked with 'em.

[ They'd killed a lot of his people that way but he doesn't mention that part. That isn't the part of the story he wants to focus on now. Maybe ever. ]

Had to go in undercover, once. So we killed two an' took their place.

[ He leaves out Connie. He leaves out Henry, so many things he doesn't want to drop on Gabe now, of all times. This isn't about Daryl and his hurts. ]

[ There's a lot they haven't told each other about where they came from. Maybe for some of the same reasons, Gabe thinks absently. Who wants to dwell on the bad shit? And most of it was bad, back home. You fight, you survive, you get up the next day and do it again. Clockwork. Muscle memory. And then what?

Maybe it doesn't have to be like that. Maybe it could be better one day. Maybe they could do that. Build that shit instead of just fighting all the time.

Gabe hums a little, folding the towel in his hands just for something to do. ]

Smart. Gnarly, but smart.

[ It's a distraction, he knows. But it works. He sets the towel down. ]

I gotta leave 'em out for a while. But this part's done. Tell me about it?

[ Or just tell him anything. It's a distraction and he knows it, but Gabe really doesn't care. ]

[ Daryl stops himself from asking about what? as a way to narrow down the conversation before it even properly begins. That wouldn't be fair, not after how vulnerable Gabe has been with him. Is still being.

But he wonders how much to tell him. Carol wouldn't appreciate him talking about Henry at all, he doesn't think. The more Gabe knows, the more he'll be able to fill in the blanks about what she's been through. And if she wants that to be a secret, Daryl isn't about to take that from her. ]

They were fightin' with us over territory. An' one of their kids, who wanted to change sides. Lydia. She was the leader's daughter.

[ The leader and mother who would whip her, who had brainwashed her into thinking her mother had her best interests at heart. Who'd lied to her from childhood. He shrugs, trying not to get caught in the memories of breaking Lydia of her past in the Hilltop cells. ]

I help look after her now. Or... I did, I guess. She can take care of herself.

Edited 2021-11-26 04:30 (UTC)

Lydia.

[ Gabe stills, one hand braces against the sink. It isn’t a name he recognizes and he might know a thing or two about brutality, but he’s never gone out among people who wore zombie skins as masks. Even the Sons of Plunder never did that shit. Their horrors were different, all that talk of warriors dying for their shining, neo-Valhalla. Crazy shit, but nothing like that.

Every place has its monsters, Gabe thinks.

He shifts so he can press his arm against Daryl’s. Just a little. He doesn’t ask why the kid wanted to change sides. He’s got a feeling. ]

There’s a kid I look after, back home.

[ His voice goes soft. ]

Zee. Needed somebody to be my eyes in a tough spot and he was there. And then, after -

He’s not my kid. But he’s -

[ Important. Zee’s important. Gabe bows his head. ]

What’s she like, Lydia?

[ The smile that steals its way onto Daryl's face is soft. He's surprised. He'd have never pictured Gabe as the nurturing type, at least not as far as babysitting was concerned. And it seems like it's more than just babysitting. ]

Sounds like he's yours to me. As much as anyone is anyone's.

[ Judith, RJ... He supposes that they're his now, too. What with Michonne gone, who knows for how long, he's the closest thing they have to family. Uncle Daryl. But they're also everyone else's, too. The whole community looks out for the kids. It's the only way it works anymore. Maybe the only way it ever really did.

Lydia doesn't need him. But he wants to be there for her. ]

She's... tough. So damn tough. Couldn't believe she could still be a teenager under everythin' she'd lived through. But she is.

[ Daryl had stopped being a kid so early because of what happened to him. He'd seen so much of himself in her. He shrugs again, a defence mechanism he doesn't realize he has. ]

We're stronger for havin' her. Her mother didn't deserve her. Some parents just... don't.

Yeah.

[ Like before, his voice is soft. Gabe doesn't know how to deal with kids, really. Never thought he'd have any call to. Eli's the only one of them with siblings he still talks to and those sisters - decent women, both of them - are older and out of reach. Have been for a long time. Even if their team had families once, they don't anymore. It's just them.

But then, one day, Zee walked into Gabe's life. It was supposed to be a practical thing. A trade. Zee acting as his eyes and Gabe offering the kid some protection when they were both trapped in lockup with no other allies. He didn't fuck with Zee, didn't let anyone else fuck with him either, and in exchange Zee made sure he didn't get lost when the guards turned his tech off. But it shifted, at some point.

Fuck, Gabe thinks silently. He misses that kid. ]

No. But kids are tougher than people think. Shouldn't have to be, but they are.

[ He sighs. ]

If she ever shows up here, I'll make sure she's safe. Okay?

[ The offer hits him hard. Somehow he hasn't been worrying about that - about the kids somehow finding themselves trapped here like him and Carol. He's only seen kids running around here the once. He's met some older teens, sure, but...

Now it's a thought. A real one he can't shake. It would be just the sort of trick 'fate' would play on Lydia. Just her luck. ]

Thanks, man.

[ The gratitude in his voice is intense. He moves to give Gabe's back a brief rub as if to try and convince him that they should leave the bathroom. ]

I'll do the same.

[ That's what this is for, after all - this trust. It's useful. ]

But I really hope I don't have to.

Good.

[ It comes out soft. Later, he'll describe Zee as best he can. Give Daryl the sort of details that will matter once the next batch of newbies gets tossed in. There are never that many kids around but he's run into more than a few teenagers. Bad luck all around. One day, Zee and Lydia might be along them.

But not today. Not right now.

Gabe exhales again, bumping his arm against Daryl's. ]

I'm beat. You mind if I crash here for a while?

'Course you can.

[ Daryl doesn't exactly feel like going anywhere right now either. What he does feel like doing is finding a way to sand down the edges of the night. Put away all the memories and worst-case-scenarios he's dwelling on. Find a way to close that door. ]

You still want that drink?

Fuck yeah, I want that drink.

[ He grins. Maybe not as bright as before, but it's real enough. Tomorrow things will be easier. This will be a memory. Day after that, it'll be less. And they'll move on. What that room dredged up, that's over and done with.

Tomorrow it'll be better. ]

Let's do it.

[ That's that. He knows they're both similar in that way - when it's time to just put something away, then do. Just don't look at it. At least now then can do it. They've gotten a little distance from that fucking room. Enough that ignoring the worst is possible.

Daryl retreats to the bed, cracks the bottle open, and pours Gabe a glass. He hands it to him by nudging his arm with it. Then he starts trying to loosen his tie but it doesn't exactly go well. ]

Things weren't always bad, back home.

[ He feels compelled to say it. Compelled to defend his time and place in some small way that will keep him from feeling cold about everything. ]

Sometimes... sometimes we got lucky. You never knew when you were gonna end up meetin' new members of the family.

[ Like Lydia. Like Kelly. Not everyone they run into stays in their lives. But some do. ]

[ It's a little easier to breathe once they're out of the bathroom and there's alcohol in play. Gabe sits down next to Daryl and knocks the glass back with a sigh, letting the alcohol burn as it goes down. Letting it warm him. It's something to focus on, anyway, a distraction from earlier. But not quite enough that he misses the way Daryl's fighting with his tie.

Gabe huffs a little, setting his glass down. ]

C'mere. Let me help.

[ His tech's synched up. He can help. ]

I get that. Dunno what I would've done if the boss hadn't found me. First time we met was in a bar fight. She punched me in the goddamn nuts, I shit you not. 'course that was right after I got her with a bottle. Probably lucky she didn't kill me right there.

[ He snorts. ]

Not the best start. But she gave me a shot, you know? Dunno what she saw in me, but she knew I'd come through. And they had a kid on their squad. Prior, he was - fuck, he was only nineteen then. Barely out of training. Boss said my only job was to watch his back. So, I did. And that was enough. Turns out you can build a whole lot out of that.

[ Daryl pours a few inches into the last clean glass and swallows it in one just before Gabe reaches for the tie currently half-strangling Daryl. He hates wearing this shit and since he hadn't been the one to get the tie done in the first place, he also can't figure out how to get it off. Gabe seems to know what he's doing. Daryl surrenders to the help without much protest. It's hard to be truly embarrassed just now.

Especially when he exhales through his nose, almost a laugh, at the mental image of Gabe getting punched in the balls by some chick. ]

Yeah. You can.

[ He unbuttons just the top of his shirt so he can get a real breath as the tie comes away. The stupid jacket comes off next. ]

My people just... got used to me. In the beginning.

[ His voice has gone quiet the way it always does when he talks about who he used to be. He doesn't exactly sound sad. It's more complicated than that. ]

My brother'n me were campin' outside the city. Atlanta. We were driftin' in to see if the government had set some shit up - to see if anyone knew what was goin' on. If they were dealin' with the walkers, or what.

The people we ran into proved that no one was handlin' shit. Stranded families, an' all. We figured stayin' with a group would be best.

[ But suddenly Daryl smiles, just a little, a wistful sort of fondness in his voice. ]

Then Rick showed up an' handcuffed my brother to a roof. For bein' a ragin' asshole, no doubt. An' left him there. An' instead of killin' him, I followed him. 'Cause that's just the kinda guy he was. Is.

[ Easy enough to loosen the tie up and help Daryl shrug out of the jacket. And if Gabe lets his hands linger a little, well, why not? He hums a little, tipping his head to the side. ]

Sometimes that's just how it starts.

[ Small things. Incongruous moments. ]

Figured the boss would kick me the moment I really pissed her off. Everybody else had. I'd already been on six teams by then. But Prior -

[ He smiles faintly. ]

He was a good kid. Hadn't gotten kicked enough to get mean, not like me. I wasn't expecting that. And Missy, the boss, she had my back. I wasn't used to that. So, I stayed.

[ It's strange, being casually undressed by someone else's hands. It's been a long time since that's happened. It feels comforting, somehow.

It feels safe. ]

You ain't always mean.

[ He reaches out to squeeze Gabe's knee before grabbing at the bottle again. Another few inches for the both of them and Daryl knocks his back like he's trying to catch up with the day they've had. ]

It was somethin', bein' able to count on people. People that weren't my brother, not that he was always reliable.

[ Gone more often than not and when he was around, well. It was always volatile. But it had been what Daryl was used to. What he'd thought life was. ]

We lost... so many. But we always kept goin'.

[ Until Rick. Daryl just hadn't been able to get himself together. Not like Michonne, who'd had to for the sake of her children. She'd been so much stronger than him.

But he doesn't know if he can talk about that. Not even to Gabe, not even now. It's all raw again after Rick's most recent disappearance. ]

Edited 2021-11-28 07:38 (UTC)

𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝙱𝙾𝚇 ;

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