[ It's like following an excited kid downstairs and out the door and Daryl is struck silent by the sheer difference between this young man and the one he'd met on their first day in the woods. The one that had shaken and cried and clung to him, who had smelled like the world had forgotten him. Something soft in his chest aches when he thinks about it so he pushes it away once they're outside in the sun.
It isn't an accident, he thinks, Jesse bouncing back like this. He's a survivor.
But of a different type from Daryl, evidently. That's also been clear from the very start. ]
You don't know the first thing 'bout huntin', do you?
[ But there's such fondness in the question because Daryl knows what the offer really is. He wants to do what Daryl wants to do. It's sweet. It scares him a little. ]
I dunno. [ He hesitates, not sure if he wants to admit what he'd really like to do. ] I saw a place that looked like it was full of books.
[ Nope, he sure doesn't. Jesse grins shamelessly, shrugging his shoulders. It's true. He doesn't really care what they do, as long as they're out here. As long as they're walking in the sunshine, spending the day together, and Daryl's happy.
Bu even so, the suggestion Daryl does offer is so unexpected, so the last possible thing Jesse would ever have either expected from him or thought to look for himself, it yanks him back a step. ]
Books?
[ He says the word like he's never heard it before. Daryl might as well have suggested they go find a store full of eels, or sawdust shavings. But he catches himself almost instantly, before Daryl can get self-conscious or try to walk it back, and nods enthusiastically, his expression clearing. ]
Yeah. Oh, yeah, I think I saw that one. It's down this way.
[ Definitely a bookstore down this street, definitely not somewhere he'd ever so much as slowed down in front of up until now. But he leads the way confidently, shooting a curious look at Daryl. ]
[ He doesn't seem like the hunting type, Daryl had of course not needed that confirmed for him, but a second later he can almost hear the sound of a record scratching -- that's how obviously Jesse does a double-take beside him.
He feels a little self-conscious stab in his chest, something that he'd thought he'd left behind a long time ago. Other people's opinions of him, assumptions. It's uncomfortable, unbalancing. He knows what he looks like, but does he need to be reminded? ]
What? You got somethin' to say about it?
[ It's only a little accusing. Mostly he sounds disappointed, though he can't get a handle on the feeling. Maybe he's even a shade of hurt. ]
I spend plenty of time alone. [ He shrugs, watching the street instead of Jesse now. ] It's nice.
[ Had Daryl thought he was judging him for reading? No, Jesse realizes a beat later, catching the unhappy look on Daryl's face, the way his shoulders have hunched slightly upward defensively. He'd thought he was just...judging him. Like someone like Daryl couldn't possibly have hobbies like reading.
It's enough to make him stop in his tracks in front of Daryl, turning to face him so he has to stop too and meet Jesse's eyes. ]
No, man. It's not that. It's just - [ He shrugs, and now it's Jesse's turn to feel self-conscious, looking away. What if Daryl thinks he's stupid, or not worth his time? Just a worthless druggie, with no interests beyond chasing the next high. ]
I just...always thought it was kinda boring.
[ "Kinda" is an understatement. He can't think of anything he'd like less to do with his time. Reading. For fun. ]
[ Daryl's only strategy is to avoid uncomfortable confrontations like these but Jesse rounds on him and brings him to a stop like he's a damn cop cruiser. Daryl pulls up short and straightens up, blinking at him when Jesse looks down the street right after calling a halt to traffic.
He relaxes, rolling his eyes because yeah, he hadn't made much of a thing of it before the the walkers had changed everything. Drinking was better, drugs were the best, and if Merle had ever caught him with a book, that would have been it for Daryl - all he would have heard about for a year. Darlina, the book worm. On and on.
Nah, he's learned to enjoy it. So he just shrugs. ]
You learn to like a lot of borin' stuff durin' the end of the world. And after, when there's nothin' left.
[ And then he just steps past him and walks on, like he hasn't just opened an insane door wide for Jesse to walk through. ]
[ Jesse's already trying to justify it to himself. He doesn't know a ton about Daryl's past, but he knows, or can assume, he hadn't had a lot of money growing up. He probably hadn't had a Playstation in the house. Or...a Nintendo? Would those have been around when he was a kid?
He might not even have had a TV. So yeah, in the lack of any real entertainment options, Jesse can kind of see it. And then Daryl keeps talking and Jesse's left standing there, mouth open, just staring at Daryl as he walks past like he hadn't just dropped the biggest bombshell Jesse's ever heard. ]
What?
[ He finally remembers how to move, half-jogging to catch up with Daryl, ambling along like everything's normal. Had he heard that right? He couldn't have, right? ]
[ He's been aware for a long time that Jesse doesn't know the details about where Daryl comes from. He's told others here, even details in some cases, but it's never really come up with Jesse, not even when he was telling him about why he had to leave. It's dawning on him now, as Jesse rushes to catch up with him, that maybe he might have understood the situation better if Daryl had told him more.
Imagine that. ]
When the dead started comin' back to life. [ He shrugs, pure nonchalance. It's been so many years that none of it feels or sounds fantastic to him anymore. ] Power went fast. Radio stayed, of course, but there were no broadcasts or nothin'.
But they bombed the cities fast. Everything felt different after that.
[ Just walking, chatting, like he's talking about construction that happened in his hometown. ]
[ He stares at Daryl, disbelieving, just this side of indignant - but also just a little bit uncertain. It's not the kind of joke he can see Daryl making, especially out of nowhere like this. Bombing cities? He wouldn't joke about that.
But it also can't be real, what he's saying. Because it doesn't make any sense. It's impossible, and if it wasn't, Daryl wouldn't be talking about it like this, like it's nothing. ]
Yo, knock it off, come on. I think it's cool. That you read.
[ He only wishes he could see the appeal itself. It sure would've made school a lot less boring. Maybe he wouldn't have turned out like such a major fuckup, disappointed his parents and everyone else. But there's no reason for Daryl to make all this up just to justify it, or mess with Jesse for his reaction. ]
[ But it feels strangely difficult for him to elaborate. Most people here had been either primed to believe him already or outright interested in knowing more. Mavis had seemed confused but open-minded, John had wanted to know everything.
Jesse just seems to think it's impossible for some reason. Daryl's allergy to going into unasked-for detail is rearing its ugly head. ]
No. You don't.
[ But he's settled about it, isn't taking it as personally now that he understands where Jesse's disbelief had been coming from. It makes sense that he wouldn't be into reading. How many meth dealers has Daryl ever met who carried a book with them? ]
[ But he can only sound so convincing. Cool is pushing it a little, after all. Or a lot. The point is, he doesn't think Daryl's less cool because of it.
The bigger question is this end of the world thing. This dead coming to life thing. He keeps pace with Daryl, head turned to stare at him instead of watching where he's going. It's a wonder he doesn't run straight into a wall or something and knock himself out. ]
Who bombed what cities?
[ There's still a tinge of uncertainty in his voice - he doesn't want to fall for anything like a gullible asshole. But he just can't figure out why Daryl would lie about something like that, either. ]
[ Daryl knows broadly where he's going, he had only passed the place with the books once while making his map of the town, but he's content to walk in silence and let the kid figure out if he wants to ask any more on his own. He knows he's being stared at but he only gives Jesse a considering glance once he's formed his question. ]
You really wanna know?
[ It pains him a little, to think that Jesse might not believe him. He doesn't want to lay it out and show all his broken cards from a slow-healing world if Jesse isn't even going to understand. ]
Military. [ As far as he knows, anyway. ] They used napalm, tryin' to take out walkers, or maybe people. Tryin' to keep them from becomin' walkers. [ He shrugs. ] It didn't work. Cities were hotspots for years.
[ It sounds like the plot to some dumb horror movie, but Daryl's so serious about it that Jesse almost has no choice but to believe him. He keeps his gaze on Daryl's face even when the other man's looking at the path ahead instead of him, trying to read his expression. Or, since this is Daryl, his almost total lack thereof.
The thing is, it kind of makes sense, with what he knows about Daryl. The way he'd naturally gravitated towards setting up camp in the woods, easily dismissing the modern (well, modern-ish) conveniences offered in town. How good he is at hunting. At surviving on almost nothing. Like he's been doing it for years.
Like someone living after the end of the world would. ]
[ That's enough to get a grimace out of Daryl but he's pacified to hear that Jesse isn't accusing him of being a liar anymore. It almost ends up being a comical expression as a result. ]
Why does everyone keep usin' that word?
[ He's heard everything under the sun that a survivor could think to call the dead come back to life, but not until that green-haired girl in the rain had called his life some cheap horror movie has he heard that word before. ]
It doesn't describe nothin' they do. Biters, lamebrains, geeks. [ That had been his at first, it had never caught on. ] Skin-eaters, roamers. Lurkers, if that's what they're doin'. We called 'em walkers because you had to call 'em something.
[ Vampires, the kid means vampires, even Daryl knows that, but he just snorts and doesn't correct him. Little Miss L.A. had made it sound like zombies were a regular part of movies and shit where she came from, so he has to assume that the same thing goes for Jesse. That's how he knows some part of what Daryl's talking about.
Hell, maybe Jesse and the green-haired girl are from the same version of the world. ]
You didn't ask.
[ He quite literally hadn't. But he stops to look at Jesse properly, to let him see that Daryl is being completely serious. ]
My world... [ Shit, that will never not sound impossibly weird to Daryl, ] It was like yours. Thirteen years ago.
[ Come on. Even Daryl has to know better than that. No, neither of them have talked much about their lives before all this, but there's no way by the way, I'm straight outta Dawn of the Dead shouldn't have been number one on the list.
But Jesse stops when Daryl does, attentively listening now that Daryl's actually sharing information with him. ]
Thirteen...
[ Thirteen years. He can see it, actually. If anyone's capable of surviving over a decade in a hellish, zombie-infested wasteland, it's Daryl. ]
What's it like?
[ What kind of life has he built, thirteen years on? The words come out softer, Jesse's eyes alert and fixed on Daryl. He doesn't seem to mind talking about it, at least so far, but he doesn't want to push too hard. ]
Of all the things Daryl isn't expecting to feel after being asked the question, it's lost. How can he even start to tell him? What exactly does he want to know? What the world was like for so long, what he's done? All the impossible things he's seen people accomplish, all the horror he's learned others are capable of? All the death, the unending, ever-present threat of loss?
All of it and nothing shows on his face for a flash but when Jesse asks about his brother, Daryl looks away. Blinks to clear his eyes. How has it all hit him so fast, with just a couple of questions? ]
Nah. I lost him.
[ He swallows, trying to grind down on the rush of emotions because damn it, they're in public and there's no point in getting worked up about any of this. He's fucking stuck here, he's trapped and the only way he'll survive to finally get free is if he doesn't do this to himself. He knows that. He's been trying. ]
I was lookin' for him when I... [ Ended up here. With you. ] But I don't wanna talk about him.
[ That should be it, they should just be dropping it and moving on, but Jesse doesn't step out of his way and instead, he's looking at him and offering sympathy and Daryl has to swallow and nod just for the sake of doing something. He hasn't been talking about it with anyone because he'd wanted to avoid moments like this, but Jesse has a way of prying things out of him, he's realizing. He can be all too convincing when he wants to be.
But maybe he understands a little better now why Daryl has somewhere else he needs to be. ]
So when I left. [ Into the void, into disaster. ] It wasn't that...
[ That he'd necessarily wanted to leave him, or even that he hadn't considered taking him along. It was all just so much more complicated than he'd been able to put into words. It still is. ]
I've just gotta find him, y'know? To bring him back to his family. Like I promised I would.
[ But he reaches out and squeezes Jesse by the shoulder, his way of saying that he doesn't blame him for asking. ]
[ He gets it. He hadn't been mad before, about Daryl deciding to leave to find his brother. He'd never questioned his priorities even for a second. He'd just been hurt that Daryl hadn't thought to tell him he was going.
Jesse gives him a small smile, sad but grateful, when he squeezes his shoulder. He knows he hadn't wanted to talk about it, but Daryl hadn't snapped at him, or pushed him away. When's the last time someone had opened up to him like that? He's not sure he even knows. ]
I'm glad you're still here.
[ He says it softly, almost a confession. It's not that he'd wanted Daryl to fail, when he'd tried to escape through the void. But selfishly...he doesn't know where he'd be now, if Daryl wasn't still here with him. ]
[ Daryl isn't glad he's still here, he's tortured by it every day, but Jesse saying so hits him harder than it has a right to. It keeps him from going any further down his self-pitying whirlpool and he just blinks at Jesse, studying him. Trying to figure out why he's said that. Why they're out on a walk right now, why they've been sharing a room. A bed.
It all suddenly seems to make a stupid amount of sense. ]
You got too much faith in me.
[ He manages a little smile, small but almost shy, way too vulnerable. He balances it by shoving Jesse by the shoulder, turning him to get him moving and walking again. ]
You've only seen me fail.
[ He's failed to get out of this place, failed to keep Jesse safe, especially from himself. Failed to stay alive. Failed to recover from that on his own without clinging to Jesse for sanity. He's on a roll here, as far as he's concerned. ]
[ It aches, hearing him say that. Jesse starts walking when Daryl urges him to, but he keeps looking over at Daryl as he does, studying him.
Can he really believe that? How? Daryl's saved him, again and again. He's never stopped trying from the moment Jesse met him. Looking after people. Fighting to get back to his brother. Making a home here, hunting for food, doing everything in his power to keep the monster at bay even as it threatens to overwhelm him.
Jesse just can't see how he can really believe what he's saying. He shakes his head, his eyes sad, but he doesn't know how to even start to argue back, if Daryl's that convinced. So when he looks up and sees the sign for the bookshop overhead, he seizes onto the distraction. ]
Hey. [ He nudges Daryl's shoulder, then nods up at the sign. ] We're here.
[ The silence feels like a sliver of shade and Daryl is able to collect himself again in it as they walk. He knows he's being stared at, he can feel that burning into him at least, but still, Jesse just lets it be and that lets Daryl take a breath. Remember where he is, where they are, and all the dire weight that's connected to that. It's enough to shake the ache of the past out of him for the moment.
Enough that when Jesse points out the bookstore, he actually feels a flare of interest. It's the same place he remembers seeing and he holds the door for Jesse, comfortable enough with the businesses here that he doesn't feel the need to check for safety. But he slouches when they enter, instantly more aware of himself and making himself smaller without realizing he's doing it. The feeling of not belonging in a place like this hits him like humidity.
He lowers his voice, looking around like someone might kick him out. ]
I've never been inside before.
[ No time, no point, he'd told himself. Now he's surprised to think of all the books that have been sitting here all this time, holding information that could be important. ]
[ Jesse strolls right in, glancing around curiously. To his disappointment, the store really does seem to sell nothing but books. Not that he knows exactly what else he might have been expecting, but...oh well.
It takes him a second to realize Daryl isn't at his side, and he turns around to find him lingering behind, looking nervous and uncomfortable. Jesse frowns, falling back beside him. ]
Yeah, me neither.
[ No surprise there. He hesitates, looking at Daryl, but gets the sense that calling him out on how he kinda looks like he wants to turn and run out the door might prompt him to do just that. Instead, he leans his hip against a nearby display table, paging idly at a book resting on top and doing his best to exude an air of casual relaxation, in the hopes it'll rub off on Daryl. Huh. Looks like this is the foreign language section. ]
[ He's glancing around, getting the measure of the space, when he makes eye contact with what must be an employee standing in amongst the shelves. Daryl finally touches a few spines when he sees the clerk pointedly look away from him with disinterest. Thick books, lots of leather, nothing like what he would have found back home and of course, he didn't really know what he was expecting. ]
Whatever I can find, really. Last one I read was about pirates.
[ He answers off-hand, quietly, like they're in a library. Not that he's ever had any library experience in his life. But he sounds distracted, maybe a little confused, and he starts to take odd books off the shelves to look at the inner pages. ]
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no subject
It isn't an accident, he thinks, Jesse bouncing back like this. He's a survivor.
But of a different type from Daryl, evidently. That's also been clear from the very start. ]
You don't know the first thing 'bout huntin', do you?
[ But there's such fondness in the question because Daryl knows what the offer really is. He wants to do what Daryl wants to do. It's sweet. It scares him a little. ]
I dunno. [ He hesitates, not sure if he wants to admit what he'd really like to do. ] I saw a place that looked like it was full of books.
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Bu even so, the suggestion Daryl does offer is so unexpected, so the last possible thing Jesse would ever have either expected from him or thought to look for himself, it yanks him back a step. ]
Books?
[ He says the word like he's never heard it before. Daryl might as well have suggested they go find a store full of eels, or sawdust shavings. But he catches himself almost instantly, before Daryl can get self-conscious or try to walk it back, and nods enthusiastically, his expression clearing. ]
Yeah. Oh, yeah, I think I saw that one. It's down this way.
[ Definitely a bookstore down this street, definitely not somewhere he'd ever so much as slowed down in front of up until now. But he leads the way confidently, shooting a curious look at Daryl. ]
You like reading?
wheeze that was so ic of him
He feels a little self-conscious stab in his chest, something that he'd thought he'd left behind a long time ago. Other people's opinions of him, assumptions. It's uncomfortable, unbalancing. He knows what he looks like, but does he need to be reminded? ]
What? You got somethin' to say about it?
[ It's only a little accusing. Mostly he sounds disappointed, though he can't get a handle on the feeling. Maybe he's even a shade of hurt. ]
I spend plenty of time alone. [ He shrugs, watching the street instead of Jesse now. ] It's nice.
no subject
[ Had Daryl thought he was judging him for reading? No, Jesse realizes a beat later, catching the unhappy look on Daryl's face, the way his shoulders have hunched slightly upward defensively. He'd thought he was just...judging him. Like someone like Daryl couldn't possibly have hobbies like reading.
It's enough to make him stop in his tracks in front of Daryl, turning to face him so he has to stop too and meet Jesse's eyes. ]
No, man. It's not that. It's just - [ He shrugs, and now it's Jesse's turn to feel self-conscious, looking away. What if Daryl thinks he's stupid, or not worth his time? Just a worthless druggie, with no interests beyond chasing the next high. ]
I just...always thought it was kinda boring.
[ "Kinda" is an understatement. He can't think of anything he'd like less to do with his time. Reading. For fun. ]
(cw: feminization, family abuse)
He relaxes, rolling his eyes because yeah, he hadn't made much of a thing of it before the the walkers had changed everything. Drinking was better, drugs were the best, and if Merle had ever caught him with a book, that would have been it for Daryl - all he would have heard about for a year. Darlina, the book worm. On and on.
Nah, he's learned to enjoy it. So he just shrugs. ]
You learn to like a lot of borin' stuff durin' the end of the world. And after, when there's nothin' left.
[ And then he just steps past him and walks on, like he hasn't just opened an insane door wide for Jesse to walk through. ]
no subject
He might not even have had a TV. So yeah, in the lack of any real entertainment options, Jesse can kind of see it. And then Daryl keeps talking and Jesse's left standing there, mouth open, just staring at Daryl as he walks past like he hadn't just dropped the biggest bombshell Jesse's ever heard. ]
What?
[ He finally remembers how to move, half-jogging to catch up with Daryl, ambling along like everything's normal. Had he heard that right? He couldn't have, right? ]
End of the what?
no subject
Imagine that. ]
When the dead started comin' back to life. [ He shrugs, pure nonchalance. It's been so many years that none of it feels or sounds fantastic to him anymore. ] Power went fast. Radio stayed, of course, but there were no broadcasts or nothin'.
But they bombed the cities fast. Everything felt different after that.
[ Just walking, chatting, like he's talking about construction that happened in his hometown. ]
no subject
[ He stares at Daryl, disbelieving, just this side of indignant - but also just a little bit uncertain. It's not the kind of joke he can see Daryl making, especially out of nowhere like this. Bombing cities? He wouldn't joke about that.
But it also can't be real, what he's saying. Because it doesn't make any sense. It's impossible, and if it wasn't, Daryl wouldn't be talking about it like this, like it's nothing. ]
Yo, knock it off, come on. I think it's cool. That you read.
[ He only wishes he could see the appeal itself. It sure would've made school a lot less boring. Maybe he wouldn't have turned out like such a major fuckup, disappointed his parents and everyone else. But there's no reason for Daryl to make all this up just to justify it, or mess with Jesse for his reaction. ]
no subject
[ But it feels strangely difficult for him to elaborate. Most people here had been either primed to believe him already or outright interested in knowing more. Mavis had seemed confused but open-minded, John had wanted to know everything.
Jesse just seems to think it's impossible for some reason. Daryl's allergy to going into unasked-for detail is rearing its ugly head. ]
No. You don't.
[ But he's settled about it, isn't taking it as personally now that he understands where Jesse's disbelief had been coming from. It makes sense that he wouldn't be into reading. How many meth dealers has Daryl ever met who carried a book with them? ]
no subject
[ But he can only sound so convincing. Cool is pushing it a little, after all. Or a lot. The point is, he doesn't think Daryl's less cool because of it.
The bigger question is this end of the world thing. This dead coming to life thing. He keeps pace with Daryl, head turned to stare at him instead of watching where he's going. It's a wonder he doesn't run straight into a wall or something and knock himself out. ]
Who bombed what cities?
[ There's still a tinge of uncertainty in his voice - he doesn't want to fall for anything like a gullible asshole. But he just can't figure out why Daryl would lie about something like that, either. ]
no subject
You really wanna know?
[ It pains him a little, to think that Jesse might not believe him. He doesn't want to lay it out and show all his broken cards from a slow-healing world if Jesse isn't even going to understand. ]
Military. [ As far as he knows, anyway. ] They used napalm, tryin' to take out walkers, or maybe people. Tryin' to keep them from becomin' walkers. [ He shrugs. ] It didn't work. Cities were hotspots for years.
no subject
The thing is, it kind of makes sense, with what he knows about Daryl. The way he'd naturally gravitated towards setting up camp in the woods, easily dismissing the modern (well, modern-ish) conveniences offered in town. How good he is at hunting. At surviving on almost nothing. Like he's been doing it for years.
Like someone living after the end of the world would. ]
Walkers...
You mean...you mean fuckin' zombies. Right?
The dead.
no subject
Why does everyone keep usin' that word?
[ He's heard everything under the sun that a survivor could think to call the dead come back to life, but not until that green-haired girl in the rain had called his life some cheap horror movie has he heard that word before. ]
It doesn't describe nothin' they do. Biters, lamebrains, geeks. [ That had been his at first, it had never caught on. ] Skin-eaters, roamers. Lurkers, if that's what they're doin'. We called 'em walkers because you had to call 'em something.
no subject
[ It's just a word. It's what they are. Daryl's words are very descriptive, though, and Jesse makes a face. Skin-eaters? Fucking gross. ]
Holy shit.
[ He mutters to himself, still looking at Daryl with new eyes. ]
You really -
Why didn't you ever tell me you were from the fuckin' zombie apocalypse, man?
no subject
Hell, maybe Jesse and the green-haired girl are from the same version of the world. ]
You didn't ask.
[ He quite literally hadn't. But he stops to look at Jesse properly, to let him see that Daryl is being completely serious. ]
My world... [ Shit, that will never not sound impossibly weird to Daryl, ] It was like yours. Thirteen years ago.
no subject
[ Come on. Even Daryl has to know better than that. No, neither of them have talked much about their lives before all this, but there's no way by the way, I'm straight outta Dawn of the Dead shouldn't have been number one on the list.
But Jesse stops when Daryl does, attentively listening now that Daryl's actually sharing information with him. ]
Thirteen...
[ Thirteen years. He can see it, actually. If anyone's capable of surviving over a decade in a hellish, zombie-infested wasteland, it's Daryl. ]
What's it like?
[ What kind of life has he built, thirteen years on? The words come out softer, Jesse's eyes alert and fixed on Daryl. He doesn't seem to mind talking about it, at least so far, but he doesn't want to push too hard. ]
You're with your brother? Right?
no subject
Of all the things Daryl isn't expecting to feel after being asked the question, it's lost. How can he even start to tell him? What exactly does he want to know? What the world was like for so long, what he's done? All the impossible things he's seen people accomplish, all the horror he's learned others are capable of? All the death, the unending, ever-present threat of loss?
All of it and nothing shows on his face for a flash but when Jesse asks about his brother, Daryl looks away. Blinks to clear his eyes. How has it all hit him so fast, with just a couple of questions? ]
Nah. I lost him.
[ He swallows, trying to grind down on the rush of emotions because damn it, they're in public and there's no point in getting worked up about any of this. He's fucking stuck here, he's trapped and the only way he'll survive to finally get free is if he doesn't do this to himself. He knows that. He's been trying. ]
I was lookin' for him when I... [ Ended up here. With you. ] But I don't wanna talk about him.
no subject
He feels like shit immediately, dropping his gaze and nodding quickly when Daryl says he doesn't wanna talk about it. ]
Yeah. Yeah, no problem.
[ But it doesn't seem like enough. His hand twitches, almost like he wants to take Daryl's. Reach for him, try to offer some sort of comfort.
It's a stupid instinct. What kind of comfort could someone like Jesse ever offer? Daryl had lost his brother. ]
I'm sorry, man.
[ He speaks softly, flicking a sorrowful, genuinely regretful look up at Daryl's face. ]
For real.
no subject
But maybe he understands a little better now why Daryl has somewhere else he needs to be. ]
So when I left. [ Into the void, into disaster. ] It wasn't that...
[ That he'd necessarily wanted to leave him, or even that he hadn't considered taking him along. It was all just so much more complicated than he'd been able to put into words. It still is. ]
I've just gotta find him, y'know? To bring him back to his family. Like I promised I would.
[ But he reaches out and squeezes Jesse by the shoulder, his way of saying that he doesn't blame him for asking. ]
no subject
[ He gets it. He hadn't been mad before, about Daryl deciding to leave to find his brother. He'd never questioned his priorities even for a second. He'd just been hurt that Daryl hadn't thought to tell him he was going.
Jesse gives him a small smile, sad but grateful, when he squeezes his shoulder. He knows he hadn't wanted to talk about it, but Daryl hadn't snapped at him, or pushed him away. When's the last time someone had opened up to him like that? He's not sure he even knows. ]
I'm glad you're still here.
[ He says it softly, almost a confession. It's not that he'd wanted Daryl to fail, when he'd tried to escape through the void. But selfishly...he doesn't know where he'd be now, if Daryl wasn't still here with him. ]
But you'll find him again. I know you will.
no subject
It all suddenly seems to make a stupid amount of sense. ]
You got too much faith in me.
[ He manages a little smile, small but almost shy, way too vulnerable. He balances it by shoving Jesse by the shoulder, turning him to get him moving and walking again. ]
You've only seen me fail.
[ He's failed to get out of this place, failed to keep Jesse safe, especially from himself. Failed to stay alive. Failed to recover from that on his own without clinging to Jesse for sanity. He's on a roll here, as far as he's concerned. ]
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Can he really believe that? How? Daryl's saved him, again and again. He's never stopped trying from the moment Jesse met him. Looking after people. Fighting to get back to his brother. Making a home here, hunting for food, doing everything in his power to keep the monster at bay even as it threatens to overwhelm him.
Jesse just can't see how he can really believe what he's saying. He shakes his head, his eyes sad, but he doesn't know how to even start to argue back, if Daryl's that convinced. So when he looks up and sees the sign for the bookshop overhead, he seizes onto the distraction. ]
Hey. [ He nudges Daryl's shoulder, then nods up at the sign. ] We're here.
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Enough that when Jesse points out the bookstore, he actually feels a flare of interest. It's the same place he remembers seeing and he holds the door for Jesse, comfortable enough with the businesses here that he doesn't feel the need to check for safety. But he slouches when they enter, instantly more aware of himself and making himself smaller without realizing he's doing it. The feeling of not belonging in a place like this hits him like humidity.
He lowers his voice, looking around like someone might kick him out. ]
I've never been inside before.
[ No time, no point, he'd told himself. Now he's surprised to think of all the books that have been sitting here all this time, holding information that could be important. ]
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It takes him a second to realize Daryl isn't at his side, and he turns around to find him lingering behind, looking nervous and uncomfortable. Jesse frowns, falling back beside him. ]
Yeah, me neither.
[ No surprise there. He hesitates, looking at Daryl, but gets the sense that calling him out on how he kinda looks like he wants to turn and run out the door might prompt him to do just that. Instead, he leans his hip against a nearby display table, paging idly at a book resting on top and doing his best to exude an air of casual relaxation, in the hopes it'll rub off on Daryl. Huh. Looks like this is the foreign language section. ]
So...what kinda books are you into?
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Whatever I can find, really. Last one I read was about pirates.
[ He answers off-hand, quietly, like they're in a library. Not that he's ever had any library experience in his life. But he sounds distracted, maybe a little confused, and he starts to take odd books off the shelves to look at the inner pages. ]
You see any in English?