dadyl | 𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝙱𝙾𝚇 ;

[ It's a light touch. Gabe goes still, but doesn't jerk away. There's a lot they haven't talked about, that Gabe isn't sure he wants to talk about. But it feels good. Something gentle, an echo of before.

Maybe they haven't lost this after all.

Gabe tips his head back. ]

No.

[ It comes out soft. ]

Not right now.

[ Daryl just nods, rubbing his thumb over the crest of Gabe's hip where he knows the big scar is. Then he lets him go. ]

Good.

[ He crosses the hall to his room, tugging his shirt off over his head in a relaxed way he'd never be able to around anyone else. Not only can Gabe not see the scars, but he's also felt them all already. ]

I'm gonna feed him. You want somethin' dry to wear?

[ There's a moment where Gabe wants to curl his hand around Daryl's wrist, press his thumb to the pulse point, but Daryl's moved away before he can think to. He tips his head back, breathing out slow.

It feels okay, he realizes. Closer to normal. A break in the storm of everything that's happened since they woke up. ]

Yeah. If you've got it.

[ He gives his shirt a faint tug. ]

He got me pretty good.

[ Daryl fishes something clean out of a drawer and puts it on, not bothering with the buttons yet as he looks for something closer to Gabe's size. He can't find anything so the shirt he eventually brings him is going to fit a little big on his slighter frame. It probably also smells like Daryl and his things because he keeps all of his possessions together. ]

Here.

[ He touches the hastily folded shirt to Gabe's chest and waits for him to take it before moving into the little kitchen. ]

You hungry, too?

[ Daryl isn't, but he's always thinking about how he can help. ]

Thanks.

[ He runs his fingers absently over the fabric, taking in the shape of it before he starts stripping his own shirt off. He folds it, out of habit, before he puts the new one on.

It hangs big. One of Daryl's. But the fabric is soft, and Gabe finds he likes the feel of it.

A comfort. Maybe he needed that, too. ]

Not right now. Maybe later.

[ He smiles faintly. ]

You got anything that comes out of a box, I can probably cook it for you.

[ Daryl grins and rolls his eyes at that, then leans into the fridge to see what's least likely to poison Dog. He doesn't like eating a thing here in Hell, not after all the ways he's been dosed and tricked, but they've been okay so far since getting out of the 'burbs. The last of the carcass of what Daryl hopes was a chicken will have to do. ]

What do they teach you in the future, huh?

[ But it's said with equal parts affection and wonder. Just coming from somewhere where packaged food was still readily available seems exotic to Daryl. ]

Staples and pantry shit all ran out years ago where I'm from. Scavenged or rotted. I gotta teach you how to stew up somethin' from scratch.

[ He sets the plate down for Dog then fills a bowl with water. When he's done, he finds himself drifting back across the suite towards Gabe. ]

Even after all this time it still feels strange not havin' to hunt here.

[ Gabe laughs a little at that, doing up the buttons. ]

Hey, Eli always cooked for us. And a lot of the planets we got dumped on didn't have many animals to start with. Gotta eat what you bring with.

[ Otherwise you don't eat much of anything. He tips his head back, humming a little. ]

But you wanna teach me, I'll learn.

Still owe you another crossbow lesson too, once I get the damn thing back.

[ He reaches out to help Gabe finish doing up the last button and then Daryl catches himself smoothing the shirt down a little and he pulls his hands away. He doesn't know which instinct he was feeding there - the urge to touch Gabe or the urge to parent him. ]

You're a pretty fast learner. I'll get you cookin' for me in no time.

[ But he sounds a little distracted, as though he's joking around to cover up his own moment of discomfort. ]

I'd like that.

[ No tease or joke there. Just something he could learn - that he'd enjoy learning. It's useful, practical here - they've had proof positive they can't trust the food more than enough these days - and it'd be a reason to stick with Daryl for a while. Have one of those quieter moments he keeps hearing about. Gabe hums a little, holding still as Daryl smoothes the wrinkles out of his shirt -

And then pulls away.

Gabe tips his head back. ]

What?

[ There's a lot they haven't talked about. There's a lot Gabe doesn't particularly want to talk about. But the way Daryl sounds right now, just a little bit off -

Yeah. That isn't right, is it? ]

Nothin'.

[ Daryl answers quickly, too quickly really, and shakes his head a little. He doesn't want to bring the association up. If they can't fix it there's no sense dwelling because that will only keep the other set of memories churning for longer. And he wants them out of his damn head. ]

Just thinkin' 'bout things I shouldn't be.

[ Yeah. That's going around, isn't it? Gabe scruffs a hand through his hair, noting - not for the first time - that he needs a trim. His hair's getting long again. Scruffy. He used to wear it long, when he was a kid. Pinned up in braids because that was his, that was all him and Gilly, and fuck what the rest of the universe thought.

They shaved his head his first day of training. Ten years in the Wolves or ten years in a labor camp. Either way, he knew he'd be losing pieces of himself.

Gabe drops his hand with a sigh. ]

I do that a lot these days. Used to think I'd be better off burying that shit so deep it'd be like it never happened - and I'd hurt anyone who said otherwise.

[ The smile he gives Daryl is small, and bitter. ]

But it keeps bubbling up, doesn't it? Hits me sideways every time. You're not my father, man. My father got blown up in somebody else's war. You and me, we're just - here.

[ Daryl isn't expecting anything to be unearthed and when Gabe does it, just lays it out plain like that, Daryl purses his lips a little and finds he can only look at him in short glances. He rubs the back of his neck and reminds himself to breathe, trying to take it for what it is. ]

It's goin' away. It is. [ The associations. The memories. Slowly but surely, they're fading. But not nearly enough. ] Just hits me sometimes. Like you said. Comes at me sideways when I don't wanna think it.

[ Or it makes him wonder how Gabe experiences being touched or even flirted with. Who he feels those hesitant advances are coming from. ]

I know I'm not. I ain't anyone's dad.

You've got Lydia.

[ Like Gabe has Zee. It's not about genetics - though he supposes it is about blood in a lot of ways. Blood, and the quiet promises people make to each other to survive.

Gabe toggles his tech, trying to track Daryl. Get a better sense of how he's holding himself. ]

I know it's complicated. But I don't want to lose - this.

[ Again, Gabe nearly knocks him over with just a few words. Daryl blinks at him, somehow still so surprised to be known in this way. Lydia isn't his child but he still feels responsible for her. He's responsible for Judith and RJ too, and so many others, but some are more acute feelings of belonging than others. ]

That ain't the same.

[ It isn't the same as feeling as though someone is yours. That instinctual possession, that easy to understand affection. It had been all he'd known with Gabe and then he'd woken up and everything had turned upside down.

But he'd never really had to fight for those kids. Protect them from something real. Bleed for them. He hadn't chosen them. Not like he'd chosen his family back home, not like he's chosen Gabe here, over and over. ]

I-- [ It feels like a punch for him to hear Gabe be that honest and Daryl reaches out to grasp him by the junction of his neck and shoulder and he squeezes, almost clinging. Then he steps forward and presses their foreheads together, tipping Gabe's head back a little as he rubs against him. At least this gesture is always safe. ]

I don't either. At all. [ He swallows, drags his thumb over the apple of Gabe's throat. ] I just don't want you to feel like... y'know. I'm some creep.

[ Somehow - like so many times before - the gesture floors him. Catches him unawares. From an enemy, the blow would be devastating. Here, it's a rush of anxious energy and then that sudden calm, like stepping into calm, cool waters. Because he knows Daryl, in the end. The feel of his calluses, way he shifts to compensate for the height difference. An enemy would take the opportunity to choke him, to go for the ports in his neck. Slip a knife between his ribs - something. Anything.

The risk is clear. So is his training.

Gabe presses into it. He tips his head back willingly, swallowing hard.

It doesn't hurt. ]

I know what it feels like to be with people who want to hurt me.

[ He says it simply, reaching up to curl his hand around Daryl's wrist. ]

I know, okay? And you don't.

[ The grip on his wrist tethers him, anchors him to the moment and keeps him from pulling away even as he feels Gabe react to the gesture and lean into it. He's missed this so much, the quiet safety of being held like this and holding in return. He and Carol had had no qualms about touching each other in their other lives but that easiness feels alien and unsettling to Daryl now in retrospect. He'd never had any walls for anyone to conquer in that life.

Something tenuous and delicate has been won here, however. And he wants to hold onto it. ]

I don't.

[ Daryl says it like a promise, like a soft little prayer, and just nods against Gabe's forehead. Breathes deep, trying not to tear up. ]

It kills me that I did. When I was your dad. [ When he'd been all tangled up in concerns that seem so outrageously stupid to him now. ] Over shit that don't matter at all.

Edited 2022-02-09 00:03 (UTC)

[ Gabe reaches up and - very carefully - runs his fingers through Daryl's hair, then shifts to cup the back of his neck. Just to hold him there, for a moment. He's already matched his breathing to Daryl's without thinking about it.

Instinct. It feels right. ]

Would it help, if I said I forgive you?

[ It comes out quiet, and tentative. ]

It was Hell. But it was us, too. I trust you here, now.

[ Gabe tips his head back, pressing into Daryl's hand. Offering out his throat because that, at least, is a language they both understand. You don't bear your throat to anyone. You don't.

But he does. ]

I trust you.

[ Daryl shivers when he's touched like that, always so unprepared to be handled with care. He's locked into Gabe and he nods because it does help. He wants to believe he's been forgiven for it, that whatever had woken up in Daryl back then has been deleted and forgotten. That whatever they have in their real lives can outweigh all that.

And sometimes body language is easier for Daryl than words. He slides his hand over Gabe's throat, now offered and unprotected, and closes his fingers around it. Only for a moment, only gently, and then Daryl bends to kiss him there. Once, twice on his pulse. Then full on the mouth, once, desperately focused. ]

That other thing I told you.

[ That admission he's been thinking about on and off since waking up in his own head again. Daryl makes himself say it into the space between their lips. He doesn't want to leave that memory buried. It doesn't deserve to be. ]

I don't-- I ain't takin' anythin' back, I mean. Yeah? It wasn't all... meaningless.

[ This would be the place where an enemy would wreck him. Gabe closes his eyes - an old reflex - but he doesn't flinch. He knew before he moved that Daryl wouldn't hurt him like this. It's gentle. So is what follows.

Gabe hums into the kiss, going up on his toes to deepen it. Pressing close. ]

Good.

[ He squeezes the back of Daryl's neck. ]

Think I need it to matter.

[ Good. So it isn't unwelcome, what that snarled little tangle of leftover feeling has made Daryl admit to. Accept, even. He'd been so sure when he'd said it in his other life, not just to Gabe but to Carol, too. He misses that clarity, that confidence. He's never been able to put what he feels to words before Hellburbia. Ever.

And it's still nearly impossible now so he just kisses Gabe again instead, his other arm snaking around his back to hold him close, palm settling on his spine. His thumb runs over Gabe's pulse, strokes the length of his throat.

It all feels like more than just a kiss and it has him a little lightheaded. ]

It does. You do.

[ It's the first time they've been like this in months and Daryl wonders if that's why he can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage, desperately awake. ]

[ Nothing in Hell feels simple. What's laid out between them hasn't been - and won't be, in the future. But for a moment - for a single, quiet moment - it feels like they could be. Gabe sighs into the kiss, holding loosely to Daryl's wrist and the back of his neck.

He can feel Daryl's pulse against his thumb. Drumming. ]

Good.

[ He presses his forehead to Daryl's, nuzzling against him. ]

I've got you.

[ It's really something, being held until his doubts go away, and Daryl sighs heavily when Gabe nuzzles him. They stay like that for so long, just breathing each other's air, that Dog eventually whines in confusion from where he's been standing just behind Daryl, waiting for what comes next.

He huffs out the softest laugh and turns to acknowledge Dog's impatient stare. He takes his hand off of Gabe's back just to wave him away and Dog goes, suddenly disinterested now that he's been excused. ]

Can we just... be, tonight? Like this?

[ It's something Gabe has said to him before and Daryl is almost aching for it now. Just the quiet company. Just this. Maybe he'll actually be able to get to sleep tonight, unlike the night before. ]

[ Gabe huffs at that, smiling faintly. They have an audience after all. But Dog doesn't seem bothered by it, and sometimes it's good just to have a break in the surface tension.

He squeezes Daryl's wrist briefly. ]

Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that.

[ Something quieter. ]

Good.

[ It's a very simple refrain between them but it's one that means a lot. Value judgement. Confirmation. Agreement. When Daryl finally moves to pull away from Gabe he takes hold of the hand holding his wrist and laces their fingers together, pulling him towards the room Daryl has only ever halfway claimed as his own. He might hate the hotel but his meagre possessions are all collected in that one bedroom. ]

Y'know what's crazy? I sleep better with you.

[ He sleeps deeper, he stays asleep longer. It's unbelievable to Daryl, who has spent nearly every night in his entire life alone. But it's true. ]

But maybe it's more to do with... what we usually do first.

[ They’re holding hands, Gabe thinks - oddly charmed by the fact. It’s not something he does often. And he goes easily, squeezing Daryl’s hand in his own. There’s no one here to see but Dog. ]

Endorphins are a great thing.

[ He smiles faintly. ]

But I always sleep better with somebody at my back. Somebody I trust.

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