dadyl | 𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝙱𝙾𝚇 ;

And now he's here.

[ Gabe isn't sure he believes in Hell handing out kindness, but he hopes - as much as he can - that no one fucks with Dog here. That there are lines.

And if there aren't, he hopes that at least Dog heals like the rest of them do.

He lets the moment stretch on for a bit, enjoying the closeness. Gentle touches, the way that Daryl squeezes his neck without fucking with the ports. And then he hums, and goes where he's asked to. He wants this closeness, he thinks. He wants something quiet in yet another aftermath, and so he lies down next to Daryl and presses close so he can run his fingers through Daryl's hair. ]

Thanks. For letting me borrow your shirt.

[ It hangs big on him, but it's soft. He likes it, he thinks. ]

[ Daryl's body practically thrums when Gabe presses close to him without hesitating and puts his hand straight into his hair. It soothes him in a way few other touches do and he rumbles a soft, pleased sound into the pillow they're resting on. It's easy to get both his arms around Gabe like this so he does, tightening his hold a little more every time those fingers card back through his hair.

God, this is nice. Daryl closes his eyes and swallows, trying to shut out the nerves that always show up whenever he's getting too content. ]

Yeah. Looks good on you.

[ But he blushes a little when he says it because it's actually true. He likes seeing Gabe dressed in his clothes, it turns out, and he has to stop himself from saying something stupid like 'you just keep it'. ]

Mhmm. Most things do.

[ It's said idly, as Gabe runs his fingers through Daryl's hair. As Daryl holds him close. There are times when Gabe can't stand to be held tightly, when the edge runs too close to the surface and he needs to move, but this -

This is good. Steadying rather than a trap, or a trick.

He settles, inch by inch. ]

Shit. Didn't realize how tired I was.

[ Daryl snorts at that and arches just a little more into the touch of Gabe's fingers in his hair. He'd been starting to wonder if they were going to ever be able to get back to this place with each other and now that it's happening, he's finally able to relax.

It's a deep sort of exhaustion that's come into him and before long, Daryl is sunk into the bed enough and against Gabe enough that it's hard to tell where either of them ends or begins. They're just a warm tangle of arms and legs and Daryl finally starts to drift off listening to Dog snore from the foot of the bed. ]

Mmm.

[ All is right for a long time.

Then he starts to dream.

At first, it's shapeless. Formless. He's lost, or not-quite-lost, Dog is there but he's just out of sight. He feels like he's missing important things but he can't remember what they are. It isn't raining, but he's wet. Then he's soaked. Then he can't breathe and the rain has turned to a downpour thicker than any rain has ever been and the storm clouds he can't quite see through the water look just like her face--

--and that's when Daryl gasps himself awake like he really is being suffocated and starts trying to sit up in a blind panic. ]

[ Sleep comes quick. Exhaustion has a weight and it settles in him, and Gabe feels his breathing even out sooner than later. Daryl's warm and solid, and they've learned how to move around each other well enough to settle now. To let the tension slip away. Gabe sleeps like a dead man. There are no dreams.

Until, suddenly, something shifts. And he's awake - like being dosed in water - and reacting, even before his conscious mind can kick in. Something's changed, something's different. He needs to react. Gabe sits up, reaching instinctively for the knife at his side. ]

Daryl -

[ And then he stills. Reflex takes over. This isn't the first time he's woken up next to someone knotted up in a nightmare. Gabe knows there's a good chance he's going to get punched for this - Decker nearly broke his jaw once, in the middle of a screaming nightmare - but he reaches out to put his hand on Daryl's wrist and lowers his voice. Steadies it. ]

Hey. Hey, it's me. Focus on my voice. You know my voice. Can you do that for me?

[ Daryl hears Gabe say his name, he does recognize his voice, but he's furiously disoriented so he tries to jerk away. He had never stayed in his hotel room much before moving out to try and fortify a place in the weird suburbs with Carol, and for a terrifying few seconds, he has no idea where he is. Worse than that, he can't remember who he is. Two sets of memories smash together with the dream he'd just lurched out of and Daryl snatches hold of Gabe by his shirt collar just to steady himself.

There's still light coming through the open door from the hallway and Dog is looking at him in the dark. That, more than anything, helps Daryl orient himself in a time and place. ]

...Shit. [ He almost gulps out the word and exhales in a rush, heaving for breath like he's been holding it. It feels as though he has, like his drowning in the dream had been something sitting on his chest in real life. He feels cold all over, except where Gabe is holding onto his wrist. ]

Fuck, sorry. 'm sorry.

[ It's embarrassing enough to make him feel a little sick but Daryl's heartbeat is going a mile a minute. He tightens the grip he has on Gabe's collar like he's worried he might go somewhere. ]

Easy. It's okay, I've got you.

[ Slow and steady. Give them something to mirror. Gabe leans forward and presses his forehead to Daryl's, careful to slow his own breathing down even as he feels his heart pounding in his throat. Adrenaline up, instinct convinced there's a threat.

But there's not. It was just a nightmare, and now this is the aftermath. ]

Just breathe with me.

[ He hears it but it's hard to accept what Gabe's saying to him in the dark. That things are okay, that he's safe. Daryl can still feel the sensations of the dream, which feels as though it was much longer than it could have possibly been. He senses Gabe start to move close to him and he flinches from him a little, only pacified when their foreheads come together. It's like a Pavlovian response for Daryl - instantly he can feel his breath in his chest, he can catch and hold it, control it. He's alive and he isn't alone. ]

Fuck.

[ It's all he can think to say as he squeezes Gabe's shirt and then finally lets it go, wrinkled where he'd been gripping it. He lays his hand flat over Gabe's chest instead, feeling his heartbeat and trying to get out of his own head. It wasn't real. It was just a fucking dream. ]

Fuck, man. That one was new.

[ That little flinch twists deep. It hurts on some instinctive, soul-deep level. But Daryl doesn't push him away. He puts his hand flat over Gabe's chest and the moment doesn't lessen but it doesn't get any worse, either. Gabe closes his eyes, keeps his breathing steady. In, then hold it for the four count, exhale.

Patterns are good. Patterns keep the world sane.

He shifts so he can run his fingers through Daryl's hair. Slow, like before. ]

You okay?

[ His people have nightmares sometimes. Prior nearly brained himself waking into a dead run. Missy cut him once when he tried to shake her awake. Got him across the arm with one of the little blades she kept tucked against her wrist.

Instinct, again. Fight or flight. You weather it however you can. ]

[ Daryl tries to imitate Gabe's breathing, which is soft and controlled while his own is still shaking and unsteady. The dark still seems like a black hood but the room smells like Gabe and Dog and warm, sleep-soft bodies and he's dry. Safe.

It's the fingers in his hair that finally make him sigh and it comes out smooth, like a release. He nods against Gabe's forehead, slow and measured, and then he rubs the hand pressed to Gabe's chest in a slow, grateful circle. He's speechless for another long moment as he's hit with how glad he is that Gabe is with him. ]

Mhm.

[ His pulse is still jumping but he no longer feels the desperate need to punch something and run. He bites down on his lip, a wash of shame following up his moment of relief and affection. ]

Did I scare you?

No.

[ He keeps his voice low, and steady. Keeps running his fingers through Daryl's hair. It settles both of them, he thinks. Something tactile, something that's only ever been kind between them. ]

Startled me a bit, but we're okay.

[ It's not the first time he's woken up next to someone fighting with a nightmare. Won't be the last, either. ]

[ Daryl makes a soft sound in his throat because it's that nice just to be touched, to be gentled like he's a horse that's just reared and needs to be quieted. He hates that he woke Gabe up, that he's had to see him this way once again, but Daryl knows they've both seen and dealt with worse. Not that it helps his pride in the moment. ]

Dreamt I couldn't breathe.

[ He says by way of quiet admission. Or maybe he's just making an excuse for why he'd woken up gasping so hard. But he doesn't want to tell Gabe the rest of it. ]

Think I'm okay now. S'what I get for fallin' asleep, I guess. [ And he can't keep the bitter exhaustion out of his voice. ]

Not your fault, man.

[ It's really not. These things just catch people. It's the collective toll, Gabe things. It stacks, and stacks, and eventually something has to give or you break under the strain.

Gabe exhales, cupping his hand to the back of Daryl's neck. He squeezes briefly before he goes back to running his fingers through Daryl's hair. ]

You wanna lie back down, or you too wired?

[ Daryl is always prone to feeling like things are his fault, but even he knows he can't hold himself responsible for dreams. Or how he wakes up out of them. ]

Yeah. Yeah, 'm okay.

[ But when Gabe starts to ease back down to the bed again, Daryl doesn't lie on his back the way he usually does when they sleep together. This time he turns onto his side and tucks himself against Gabe's body, head resting on his chest. He likes the way Gabe plays with his head and he wants to tell him so, wants to ask him to continue without actually saying it.

He slings an arm over his belly and sighs. His broad shoulders are hunched a little but he's comfortable nonetheless. ]

Okay. I might still be a little wired.

[ Gabe hums, and keeps running his fingers through Daryl's hair. Rubbing at the pressure points in his neck, skull. Old tricks he learned to release tension, to ease pain. It's something to focus on, something tactile and gentle. It helps him, in the bad moments. Gives him an anchor to hang onto when the ground feels unsteady beneath his feet. ]

I won't ask if you don't want me to. Okay?

[ A low sound starts up in Daryl's chest, a rumble of pleasure at the way Gabe is finding all the right places to pay attention to on his head, and soon he really does feel okay. And he knows that without this, without being held like this, it would have taken him hours to calm down properly. ]

It's okay. No point talkin' 'bout it. It was just a dream.

[ The details of which are already fading, even though Daryl can still feel the broad strokes of it. He recognized the dread in it. ]

But I don't get ones like that one often.

[ He never really has. When Daryl sleeps, it's just to recover enough to keep moving. Keep working. He's managed to outrun bad dreams for a very long time. ]

No?

[ He keeps his voice soft. No edges right now. Not in the aftermath. Prior used to shake and pace after the bad nightmares. Missy got snippy and brutal. Eli and the twins would cry. Gray would reach out to touch people, initiate it, and he never would otherwise. Everyone carries it differently. But there's always an aftermath, isn't there?

There's always something that catches you.

He keeps rubbing Daryl's head. Steady, gentle pressure. He rubs his thumb along the shell of Daryl's ear and then tugs gently on the lobe. There's a pressure point there. He's always had tricks. It helps to have something to do now, in this aftermath. ]

I get them sometimes. The bad ones, I mean. They twist me up.

[ For the moment, for just right then, everything is exactly how he wants it. Daryl realizes with a sudden warm, dizzying feeling that he's never felt like this before. So cared for, so cradled. So comfortable trusting someone to touch him like this. The way Gabe is caressing his ear makes Daryl sigh against his chest and something shudders in his mind and heart, something that's always craved the attention he's getting now but has never known how to ask for it.

He closes his eyes, rolls his face into the shirt he recognizes as his own to hide the fact that a rogue tear has sprung to life in one eye. ]

Got that to look forward to now, then.

[ It's a quiet moment, this aftermath. It ought to be, Gabe thinks. Something gentle in the wake of whatever caught Daryl while he was dreaming. Something always does, in the end. You don't survive this life without enduring a few horrors - without carrying them like scars. And they both have more than their share of those.

He keeps it up, rubbing Daryl's head and holding him close. Steadying his own breathing. ]

Mhmm. That's the life, huh?

[ He smoothes his free hand down Daryl's back. ]

I got you.

𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝙱𝙾𝚇 ;

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