dadyl | 𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝙱𝙾𝚇 ;

Okay.

[ Thing is, he knows that anger. That helpless sort of rage that bubbles up in the aftermath when you can't avenge the hurt done to your people and that need to move, to commit to a course of action, to tear the goddamn world asunder for daring to fuck your people over. He gets it, knows it, has ridden that ride a thousand times before. Hell was hardly the first time. He's been fighting nearly his entire goddamn life. It goes in predictable ways. And that means he understands this, just like he understands that one of them needs to keep their head and focus.

Gabe tips his head back, toggling his tech to scan Daryl for injuries, for anything that's still bleeding. ]

Hey. Hey. Eyes on me. You wanna punch something, I'll punch you in the goddamn face, but I need you here.

[ Sure enough, Daryl is still injured and while he doesn't consider the wounds serious, he hasn't done a thing to take care of them. He hasn't been able to consider himself yet, not even for a minute. He has a shallow knife wound on one upper arm and another right along his cheekbone, both less dire than they were thanks to Hell's accelerated healing, but neither is closed.

He does turn his glare on Gabe when he's told to and being threatened makes him want to throw a punch, but he doesn't - because he's being told that someone needs something from him. That is something he can always hear. ]

I am here! That's the fuckin' problem.

[ He should never have left without her. It's all he keeps thinking. ]

She-- I shouldn'tve...

[ A dry, sobbing sound escapes him and he turns away fast because he can't cry in front of Gabe. ]

[ Okay. That's better, that's Daryl at least halfway focused on him and not whatever shit went down on the island. If they get into a fistfight, fine, that's whatever, Gabe can field that. So long as it keeps Daryl here and not spiraling out. He exhales through his teeth and makes a decision, marching up and putting his hands on Daryl's face. He presses their foreheads together and he slows his own breathing down deliberately.

There's a job, so he'll get it done. He always does. ]

Eyes on me.

[ Stay here, stay in the moment. Don't go off somewhere he can't follow. ]

I get it. I do, Daryl, I fucking do. But I need you to breathe for me, and stay here.

[ Daryl jerks away on instinct when Gabe's hands move for his face, but after that first flinch, he lets himself be grabbed. He's taut as a bowstring but he allows it, doesn't shove him away, doesn't snap again because it isn't like Gabe making him slow down is keeping him from something. He's been pacing the beach precisely because there's nothing else to do.

Slowly, slowly, Daryl's breathing starts to match Gabe's. He reaches up to hold onto him by the elbows with both bloody hands and he keeps his eyes closed until he can open them without tearing up. ]

I am.

[ He doesn't answer until he's sure. He nods against Gabe's forehead but it's still a stiff movement, and then he's trying, almost shyly, to pull away. ]

I'm here.

[ Even though he shouldn't be. ]

[ There's an equal chance this will snap Daryl into focus or provoke him into landing a blow. A risk either way, but Gabe's never been one to worry or second-guess himself. When he moves, he commits. This time, it pays off. Daryl settles in small ways. Breathes with him.

Good. He can work with that. Gabe exhales slowly and lets Daryl go.

Nice and steady. That's the way. ]

All right. First things first. How bad are you fucked up? And don't tell me you're not. I know.

[ When that sure touch falls away it's both a relief and a loss and Daryl sniffs hard and swallows. Looks away out at the water like it can steady him. He squeezes his hands into fists to stop them from shaking and huffs a dismissive sound at the question.

But when Gabe reads him like a book, Daryl's defiance breaks with a sigh. ]

It ain't bad.

[ For him. ]

Uh huh.

[ Sure, buddy. Because that's a tone he knows, and that's a line he's used almost verbatim. Gabe exhales through his teeth, calculating out the odds in his head. ]

You would've fit right in with the team back home. I found Prior trying to walk off a broken collarbone one time. That little shit kept it up for three hours before I caught him.

[ But then, little brother's always been stubborn. It runs in the blood, in this trade, this life. In people like them. Some things bleed true regardless. ]

I'm gonna patch you. And you're going to help me, yeah? Then we're going to figure this shit out.

[ He doesn't know why but Gabe's little story about his friend makes Daryl snort. It's too dry to be a laugh but it's a tiny release that Daryl wasn't expecting and it leaves him a little more open to listening - just open enough that he nods at the directives.

Then we're going to figure this shit out.

His shoulders finally sag a fraction of an inch with that reassurance. He knows Rick is just down the beach on a fact-finding mission of his own, probably, but having one more person he can rely on helps. It helps a lot. ]

Okay.

[ He's agreeing with the second part more so than the first part, but he isn't going to fight it. He has nothing else to do and that's what's killing him, but following the right person's orders has always felt good. ]

Okay.

[ They're agreed. That's step one. The rest will fall into place with enough forward momentum. Gabe hums a little, motioning Daryl forward with his hand. ]

You got medical gear here, or we heading back to the hotel?

I ain't goin' anywhere.

[ He answers too fast and too gruffly, as though Gabe is trying to lure him away from where he should be. He shakes his head a moment later, catching himself, a stab of guilt making him try again. ]

They're lookin' after people, down the beach a bit.

[ He looks in that direction, considering it for the first time. ]

The ones that could make it through the boat ride, anyway.

[ The rest, the ones with life-threatening injuries, had been triaged on the boat itself. Daryl himself had waved any attention off like it was an accusation. ]

You're getting patched up.

[ Location matters less than the tools at hand. This part isn't up for debate. Gabe hums to himself, toggling his tech again. Scanning the area as he considers his options, and how much he needs to push. They have to be smart about this. ]

Okay. Let's start there. If they're triaging, they've got gear. And I can take care of the rest if it isn't too complicated.

I said it ain't that bad.

[ He hears himself sounding petulant and sighs again, reaching up to rub at his face with his dirty hands to try and calm down. He's exhausted - he hadn't been sleeping much on the island while he had people to look out for and he certainly hasn't slept since. Every nerve left in him feels frayed. ]

It's just a couple cuts. I swear.

[ But he knows he wouldn't drop it either in Gabe's place. It's as comforting as it is frustrating. ]

You almost put your thumb in the one on my face.

Uh huh.

[ It sucks being the responsible one. But somebody has to do it. There's a job, a mission to complete. They made a deal to look after each other's people. First step to that is making sure Daryl's patched, that he slows down enough to assess the situation clearly.

First part of that is dealing with the wounds.

Gabe clicks his teeth. This is going to be fun. ]

They need stitches? My tech can scan for that.

[ Daryl huffs like he's been caught and looks away, then turns his arm to try and examine the cut on his bicep. ]

Probably.

[ He isn't going to lie outright, at least. He doesn't like sitting still for medical attention, even less when he feels like he should be doing something, but neither does he like punishing people for giving a shit about him. At least not anymore. ]

You tellin' me you can take care of that, too?

[ He has to admit - it's much easier to accept the help from someone he knows. ]

[ Gabe hums a little. He's patched others before. Brothers, sisters, himself. And a few people here. It takes skill, practice. He's got both. ]

If you help me a little. Yeah.

Never done it on my own. But I can help.

[ He's been stitched up enough that he knows the drill. He isn't going to flinch and he's miles from squeamish. ]

C'mon, then. It's this way.

Cool.

[ He motions for Daryl to lead the way. The ground is relatively even here so he's unlikely to get tripped up, and he's leery of anyone seeing Daryl guide him. Not here, not with so many potential witnesses. Though if anyone notices the careful way he'll have to patch Daryl up, well. That's going to raise some questions.

One thing at a time. ]

Need to clean everything first. Still don't know if we get infections here but I'd rather not test that.

[ Daryl leads, but he goes slowly. He keeps Gabe in the corner of his eye and watches him that way, ready to steady him if he needs to and hoping that he won't have to. He can see the cluster of people down the beach but it's still a bit of a walk. ]

I wouldn't put it past those freaks to coat their weapons in somethin'.

[ He practically snarls it, though there's fear in his tone as well. It's those freaks that have Carol and the others, now. ]

But I don't feel anythin'. Not yet.

[ Poison could come and fuck them right up, and there wouldn't be much any of them could do about that. They'd need the right antidote and who the fuck knows what that means with literal goddamn magic in play? But they have to keep moving, preserve the forward momentum, otherwise they'll get bogged down under the weight of all this shit.

First, you must survive. That's always been the rule. ]

Good. Let's keep it that way.

[ And if it turns out there is poison, well, he'll suck it up and find a healer. Someone with magic, see if that makes a difference. They still have options.

Gabe hums to himself, scanning the beach. ]

It's gonna take too long with me groping around for shit, so you're gonna need to get the kit. Okay?

[ It hadn't exactly come on immediately, the last time Daryl had seen warfare like that. It had taken overnight for their people to start dying and turning. But it's been long enough since he's taken these wounds that Daryl isn't devoting much thought to it. He's pretty firmly distracted and he's never been one to add hypothetical worries to his current concerns. ]

Doesn't work so well with little stuff?

[ He still doesn't really understand Gabe's tech and his ignorance has been a bit of a hindrance when talking to Tech. Daryl has passed on as little about Gabe as possible but he still has to give Tech the directions he needs to make something worthwhile. ]

Do you stitch by touch, then?

No.

[ It's said simply. He figures they've gotten to that point. This level of honesty. ]

And it doesn't do letters. It picks up blood, though. Penetrating wounds. Combine that with touch and muscle memory, and I can get it done.

Cool.

[ He isn't dismissive. It's sort of fascinating, but he knows if it were him he wouldn't want it focused on. He wouldn't want multiple questions asking to explain it more. It would be only his business, for the most part.

Even though now Daryl is now terribly curious how Gabe reads the books he said he has. ]

Wait here. I'll be back.

[ They're close enough to the group now and Daryl doesn't want to be in the thick of it. Around the chatter. Even those he'd helped survive and those who want to go back for the rescue aren't people he wants to talk to. He heads straight to the little medical tent, gathers what they need, and heads back to Gabe. ]

You need a place to work? Or can we just sit?

We can sit.

[ This part, at least, is route. He’s done it a thousand times before. Patched his family, complete strangers, got it done. At least this time they’re not under fire and nobody’s in danger of bleeding out. There’s time to do it right. Gabe toggles his tech, scanning their surroundings. There’s a bit of what reads like driftwood a little ways back from the crowd. Good enough. He jerks his head at it. ]

That thing work?

Yeah.

[ There's relief in Daryl's voice. The farther away from the crowd, the better, and being forced to sit will take some of the exhaustion away from the forefront of his mind. Even if he knows there will be pain.

He touches Gabe's arm gently before walking over to the log and sitting down heavily. He tries not to groan but a bit of a grunt escapes him anyway. Every part of him aches so much that the wounds themselves have been barely registering. ]

Arm or face? Dealer's choice.

[ He hums in agreement, moving with Daryl. The touch at his arm is light. Not so long ago, Gabe knows he would have snarled at Daryl for daring it. And now -

Well. Things changed on him. There's trust between them.

Gabe sits down next to Daryl, toggling the sensitivity on his tech and considering his next steps. First things first, he reaches for the kit and gloves up. ]

Arm, to start. I'm guessing there weren't any painkillers?

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