𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝙱𝙾𝚇 ;

[dadyl]

𝚃𝙴𝚇𝚃. / 𝚅𝙾𝙸𝙲𝙴. / 𝚅𝙸𝙳𝙴𝙾. / 𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽.

Comments

icons are being stupid so i only had a handful to choose from

[yeahmagnets]

[ Every answer Daryl gives him just seems to make him think of more questions, but the answers are starting to sound repetitive and after a while, it really feels like he's just trying to buy time he doesn't have. Jesse feels a distinct ache in his chest, worse than the time Tuco kicked his ribs in for daring to question his business tactics and trying to get his money up front. Except this time it's like his entire rib cage is shattered, every drawn breath feeling like someone's grinding broken glass into his sides. He knows that this is the point where anyone should be put out of their misery, but he's too terrified to ask for relief.

Jesse trusts Daryl enough to make it quick and as painless as possible, but it's still a horrifying thought; knowing you're about to be killed, even if it's the merciful and right thing to do. Jesse knows it can't be easy for Daryl, either, in spite of how the guy tries to tell him that this isn't his first rodeo. He's had to kill people he's known for longer (and implied in that, cares about more) than him.

Another coughing fit wracks his already weakened frame and it feels like he can barely stay conscious through it, ears ringing and vision going gray around the edges. His hands and feet tingle like he's losing touch with the world, but Jesse's a tough little shit. Stubborn, too. He should probably be dead already, but he's hanging on. Clinging to reality like a tick on a deer that just won't fall off in spite of being painfully full.

When he goes to collapse back onto the bed, Daryl puts him on his side instead of his back. He notices, but what it means doesn't sink in. All he has the wherewithal to notice is how nice it feels to have something big and sturdy to lean back against when Daryl slides in behind him. His last thoughts are peaceful and relaxed, and Daryl's right--he never sees it coming. Jesse doesn't even have time to react, though his hearing is the last to go and there's a sudden crunch of steel breaking through bone in the darkness. It doesn't startle him, though, and his brainstem is so quickly severed that he doesn't have the time to contemplate what he's hearing. After that, it's just...nothingness. Like going to sleep.

A couple of hours have passed when Jesse startles awake, his hand flying up to the back of his head. There's a scar there now, and he subconsciously knows what that means but his brain hasn't fully kicked on yet. He's still in a panic, kicking at the blankets so carefully tucked in around him, bolting upright in spite of his head feeling like it's going to explode with every move he makes. His blue eyes are wide and lit up like the sky on the nicest day of the year--almost more alive than they had been before. They settle on Daryl, big and pleading; terrified. He knows this man, but how? From where? Where even is he? His body is still resetting, his brain slowly coming to like a lagging old desktop computer. Nothing quite makes sense yet. ]

The fuck is this?

[ Okay, so a piece of him is still there. ]

[dadyl]

[ He'd never figured out exactly how long he'd taken to come back when he'd died shortly after first arriving in Hell, but he's damn sure that Jesse's turnaround is faster than his own was. Perhaps because of the situation, perhaps because he'd only had to recover in a few key ways, Daryl doesn't know. But when Jesse comes to, Daryl has only just finished lying him back down on his bed after changing his shirt for him. His jeans he'd left on, those had seemed alright, but everything else in the room, including the bedsheets, has been turned over while Jesse lay recovering. Clean as a whistle.

Even though he was expecting it, Daryl almost startles when Jesse opens his eyes and practically bolts upright. He moves to sit beside him immediately, not trapping him in the sheets he's fighting, not reaching out to grab him. Just being close. Being recognizable. Being there. ]

Hey. It's me. It's all alright, hey, c'mon...

[ In an immediate sense, anyway he is alright. The kid is still in Hell, something like this could still happen again, but for now? In this room? He's okay. He's just going to have one badass head and body ache. ]

You're back. You... you remember what happened, right? Just- just lay back. You're hurtin'.

[ Because he might need to be reminded of that. Daryl remembers his own confusion. ]

D'you remember me, Jesse? Who am I?

[yeahmagnets]

[ At first Jesse shakes his head, his body instinctively crawling backward in the bed, eager to get his back against a wall. His brain's still resetting, and it's slowly sinking in that he's not at home in his bed like he had expected to be. He looks at Daryl and when he meets his eyes there's something that clicks inside of him. Yeah, he knows him. ]

Yeah.

[ Jesse nods and then wets his lips. He grimaces as a sharp pain stabs at him behind the eyes, but it passes quickly and dies down to a dull throb, and he's able to speak again. ]

You're Daryl and you-- [ You just killed me. ] --it's over, right?

[ His chest is heaving but he can't fully reason why. Maybe it's just the adrenaline still giving him jitters. Maybe his wires are still a little crossed from the whole resurrection thing. Probably a little of both. His shoulders start to drop, the tension beginning to melt out of them but he's not laying back--not taking it easy like he's being told to in spite of feeling like he's been run over by a truck. ]

[ He looks down at his shirt. It's not the same one he had been wearing before and his hand smooths over the crisp, new sheets. It hits him that Daryl must have...cleaned up. Which means he probably bled all over everything. A wave of nausea runs through him, but he breathes through it. Aside from the whole blood and gore aspect, it hits him that it's actually kinda nice that he bothered to get him all cleaned up before he woke up, so he wouldn't have to see the aftermath. He's still imagining it, but that can't be half as bad as actually seeing it. Somehow, he's still feeling a stab of guilt over it, though. That Daryl had to deal with it all on his own in those few hours. That the weight of it was still settled on him, even though those broad shoulders seem built to carry the weight of the world. Jesse suddenly realizes he doesn't want that for him, even if he's built to take it. ]

Can you stay?

[ He feels a little awkward asking, but it's the most direct request he's been able to muster. He's feeling vulnerable and for some reason, this guy's always around when he's feeling his weakest and manages to take care of him without making him feel weird about it. ]

[dadyl]

[ He doesn't react to Jesse's scramble, he just lets the kid get the fear out of his system and when he's asked, Daryl finally nods, hoping against hope that he's right. That Jesse isn't just going to turn right around and sicken again. Dying has to be the end of it, right? Doesn't it? But Daryl's stomach twists on the thought that they can't know for sure. Maybe taking him out the easy way was cheating, as far as Hell is concerned.

Even though mercy killing is never goddamn easy. ]

I think so. How you feelin' here? [ And he points to his own chest instead of reaching for Jesse. He takes a deep breath as another indication of what he means. ] Breathin' okay now?

[ But as he watches Jesse take in the room, his clean clothes, Daryl is reminded of that tent he'd woken up in well over a year ago. Still alone in Hell without Carol, without friends, he'd woken up aching with his head spinning and only an acquaintance happening by to explain to him what had happened. All those horrific memories had rushed back into that gap that death had left. He's glad he could provide better for Jesse.

He feels another painful stab in his chest when he remembers how he hadn't been able to do that for Gabe. ]

You want me to stay?

[ Yeah, he'd heard him, and Daryl feels a little slow for repeating it but he feels like he needs double confirmation. Jesse is still scattered and scared, he can tell, but that will pass in time. Maybe he'll feel ashamed if Daryl sticks around any longer, Daryl doesn't know that he'd even be able to ask for that small comfort in Jesse's place.

But he isn't going to tell him no. Not here and suddenly, Daryl worries, possibly not ever. He's hard to say no to, this kid. Not with wide harmless eyes like that. ]

Yeah. I can. [ His voice is gravel and quiet, never really soft but there's profound exhaustion and compassion in it all at once. ] You wanna talk for a while? Or just sit?

[yeahmagnets]

[ Jesse tilts his head like a confused dog when Daryl points to his chest, but then he asks if he's breathing okay and he furrows his brows, gingerly taking a deep breath like he's afraid it'll hurt. It doesn't, and he sighs in relief that he can finally take in a breath without feeling like he'll cough up his own organs. ]

Yeah--yeah, I can breathe okay now.

[ Jesse's still coming out of the fog, but he's conscious enough to know that when he asked Daryl to say, he'd meant it. It wasnt something that would suddenly go away once the cobwebs clear from his head. If anything, feeling so vulnerable makes him crave company rather than a desire to hide away and stick it out on his own like some others might feel. Jesse does better with company. Sometimes because it's a distraction from his own thoughts, and other times because it just feels good to have a physical reminder that he doesn't have to go through the hard shit alone. Not here, anyway. ]

Yeah...can you? [ Jesse looks to Daryl with those big eyes, a sudden fear rising in him that he'll say no even if he hasn't given any indication that he's trying to get up and leave. ]

Please?

[ Jesse tacks on the word suddenly, as a wave of pain rocks through him, muscles cramping up briefly]

Ah, fuck...

[ He hisses through it, rubbing at one of his arms, trying to ease away the soreness even though it probably won't help. It seems like these things just have to run their course. ]

We can talk, but...I mean, we don't have to. It's enough just knowing you're here...

[ A piece of him wonders if he should feel embarrassed for admitting that out loud, but he doesn't. It doesn't feel wrong to be truthful with Daryl. It feels like the right thing to do. ]