[ Jesse goes quiet, even inside his mind - something almost unheard of. There's a long pause before he can finally manage to reply. He has no idea who Fifty is, but the way Daryl says it, he can only be one guy. ]
Is that who did it?
Is that who -
[ Killed you. He can't articulate it, even in his thoughts. ]
[ Even without being there, without being really alive, Daryl sees right through him. Jesse's silent at first, not even knowing how to answer. Careful. No, he hasn't been at all. He hasn't gone out and tried to take on Daryl's killer himself, true, but he's been trashing more than just the apartment. He's been trashing himself. His life, his body. It's pure luck that he hasn't overdosed or drowned in a puddle of spilled beer, because he sure as shit hasn't been trying to keep himself alive. ]
Yessir.
[ Shit. Where had that come from? He clears his throat, shaking his head. ]
[ Daryl didn't think he could be surprised right now. His mind is being wrung like a wet towel, it's hard to keep himself together enough just to focus, and that yessir still makes him feel like he's stepped on something slippery. Like the ground went out from under his foot.
And he isn't even sure he has a body to stand in. ]
What're you doin'? Right now? [ He doesn't wait for an answer, just chases that reaction like he's following a trail in the woods. ] Get up.
[ Jesse's feeling nearly as off kilter, surprised at himself and still feeling shitty and lonely and lost. He wipes an errant tear from his cheek - when had he started crying? - but at the command in Daryl's voice he obeys without thinking. Ginger sits up, cocking her head and whining inquitively as he stumbles to his feet. ]
M'up.
[ He reaches out, scratching the dog's head and blinking, looking around the disaster of an apartment like he's never seen it before. ]
[ Yeah, Daryl can imagine what the place looks like. He knows what he wants Jesse to do, but Jesse isn't like him. So he thinks of something that would mean nothing to him but might be exactly what the other needs. ]
[ Jesse's not quite sure what's going on here, how they'd gotten from him just talking, trying to keep Daryl occupied, to this - Daryl giving him orders from afar.
But it helps, somehow. It's almost a relief to shut his brain off and just obey. Do as he's told and trust that it's the right thing. He scrubs his face and gets the dog leashed up and ready to go, narrating to Daryl the whole time - k, I got Ginger, need my shoes - shit where'd they go...fuck, hang on -
Eventually he gets there, slowing down as he reaches the bathhouse and only onw considering what he's doing. ]
You're tellin' me you've been walkin' her for a month and she ain't muddy?
[ It's been soothing, almost, listening to Jesse putter around, describing what he's doing. It's better than the abyss, that's for goddamn certain, so Daryl pushes. Keeps him going. ]
Get cleanin'. Her, then you. Then our place. [ Fond, but then he puts steel in his thoughts. ] Got it?
[ Are dogs even allowed in the bathhouse? But Daryl cuts him off before he can ask, and Jesse bites his tongue, obediently leading her inside. It's not a surprise when Daryl orders him to get cleaned up - obviously, that's what he's here for - but when he tells him that cleaning up the apartment is next, he can't help a little huff of annoyance, only soothed by the way Daryl says our place. It aches a little, hearing him call it that, realizing just how much he misses him.
When he tries to tell him he can't get high, though, Jesse instantly scoffs, dismissive. How the fuck does Daryl think he's managed to survive the last month? ]
Yeah, sure. I'll start going to church on Sundays too.
[ He doesn't raise his voice, doesn't even snap it. Just says it like it's a rule. He's seen the way Jesse gets, when he lets go and just doesn't care. He'd been worried the dog wouldn't help but if Jesse's being truthful, and Daryl thinks he is, then maybe she had kept him from fully bottoming out.
Daryl is going to have fucking words for Gabe for taking him out for a month. He was supposed to be around to keep this from happening.
But he's exhausted. He can't keep this up much longer. ]
[ Daryl doesn't snap at him, the way Mr. White used to, or sound halfway disappointed and half like he's looking for a reason to be disappointed, the way his mom always had. He just says it, matter of fact, not even raising his voice. Like he's not even mad, just explaining the way things are. It leaves Jesse so off-kilter he can't even think about shooting back some smartass retort. He goes through the motions in stunned silence, getting Ginger ready for her bath, until Daryl prompts him for a response. ]
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no subject
Is that who did it?
Is that who -
[ Killed you. He can't articulate it, even in his thoughts. ]
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[ No sense not being clear. He doesn't think Jesse will do anything stupid. That isn't who he is.
But just to be safe, ]
Don't think he meant to. But he ain't right in the head.
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But he won't. He'd probably just end up getting himself killed, anyway. Make things even worse.
Jesse swallows, knocking his head back against the wall. ]
I'll watch out for him.
I'll be careful. Promise.
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[ A whole month. Nearly a whole month he'd left the kid alone in a place that eats the weak. Sometimes literally. ]
I know your head ain't on straight. That's fine.
But get it right. Yeah?
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Yessir.
[ Shit. Where had that come from? He clears his throat, shaking his head. ]
I - yeah. 'Kay.
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And he isn't even sure he has a body to stand in. ]
What're you doin'? Right now? [ He doesn't wait for an answer, just chases that reaction like he's following a trail in the woods. ] Get up.
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M'up.
[ He reaches out, scratching the dog's head and blinking, looking around the disaster of an apartment like he's never seen it before. ]
I'm - I'm at home.
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Go the bath house. Take Ginger.
Deal with the both of you.
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But it helps, somehow. It's almost a relief to shut his brain off and just obey. Do as he's told and trust that it's the right thing. He scrubs his face and gets the dog leashed up and ready to go, narrating to Daryl the whole time - k, I got Ginger, need my shoes - shit where'd they go...fuck, hang on -
Eventually he gets there, slowing down as he reaches the bathhouse and only onw considering what he's doing. ]
Take her inside?
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[ It's been soothing, almost, listening to Jesse putter around, describing what he's doing. It's better than the abyss, that's for goddamn certain, so Daryl pushes. Keeps him going. ]
Get cleanin'. Her, then you. Then our place. [ Fond, but then he puts steel in his thoughts. ] Got it?
An' you're done gettin' high.
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[ Are dogs even allowed in the bathhouse? But Daryl cuts him off before he can ask, and Jesse bites his tongue, obediently leading her inside. It's not a surprise when Daryl orders him to get cleaned up - obviously, that's what he's here for - but when he tells him that cleaning up the apartment is next, he can't help a little huff of annoyance, only soothed by the way Daryl says our place. It aches a little, hearing him call it that, realizing just how much he misses him.
When he tries to tell him he can't get high, though, Jesse instantly scoffs, dismissive. How the fuck does Daryl think he's managed to survive the last month? ]
Yeah, sure. I'll start going to church on Sundays too.
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[ He doesn't raise his voice, doesn't even snap it. Just says it like it's a rule. He's seen the way Jesse gets, when he lets go and just doesn't care. He'd been worried the dog wouldn't help but if Jesse's being truthful, and Daryl thinks he is, then maybe she had kept him from fully bottoming out.
Daryl is going to have fucking words for Gabe for taking him out for a month. He was supposed to be around to keep this from happening.
But he's exhausted. He can't keep this up much longer. ]
Say you understand, Jesse.
no subject
Yeah.
I - I get it.