[ That...doesn't make any sense. Yeah, he's heard the stories, but unlike the monsters, he hasn't actually seen anybody come back to life. It makes it harder to believe it's actually real. And besides, even if it is real, the Duchess doesn't bring anybody back until the first. It's only been a couple of days, right? There's no way it's been long enough that...
Fuck. How long has it been? Jesse suddenly realizes he has no idea how much time he's actually lost to his drug-addled haze.
He reaches out again, more cautiously this time, but more focused, as if he can somehow sense Daryl himself and not just his words if he tries hard enough. ]
Daryl?
[ And if, or when, no answer comes, he reaches out a little more forcefully. ]
[ His name. It feels like something disconnected from him now, a stranger, someone other. Someone that doesn't apply to him here, not anymore. Not in this place, where he has no control over what happens to him, no control over what he does. What he changes into. Nothing that he used to be matters.
But the hands in front of him look like his own. This guilt feels like his own. The new memories might be hot shards but that's why he's trying to keep his head empty. His mind quiet.
[ There's something different about the next meassage. As if he can hear Daryl's voice in his head, instead of getting just an impression of his thoughts. Jesse shivers, sitting up straight fast and nearly falling over as he goes lightheaded. ]
He isn't in the castle, staring up at that creepy fucking mask in the shadows, feeling every single moment of his resurrection. He isn't still walking with Mavis and Terry, a little pack of ghosts, unable to look at either of them without feeling his mind fray in the very center.
[ Booze. It's not much of a clue. Anywhere could smell like booze. But Jesse's not unfamiliar with the tavern, and it's the most obvious place he can think of to start looking. Especially since Daryl doesn't seem big on details at the moment. ]
'Kay.
[ He's not the ideal person to be going after Daryl right now, he knows. He can't even remember the last time he was sober. Unfortunately, the very fact that he's so fucked up means his impulse control isn't great right now, either. And the thought of not running to find Daryl right now - even of taking the time to try to find someone else he thinks he can trust to help - is intolerable.
So he scrambles to his feet and starts moving, mind-messaging Daryl as he goes. ]
Just stay there, okay? I'm coming, just - don't do anything.
[ It takes him longer than he'd like to actually track Daryl down, mostly because he checks the actual tavern itself first, scouring it top to bottom. But eventually, a figure steps hesitantly into the alley, silhouetted by the lamplight. ]
[ He's coming. He knows that must have been what he wanted when he reached out to Jesse but the idea of company isn't one Daryl has thought through. He'd wandered away from the crowds and the main streets for a reason, hidden away where he can't be bothered, where he's alone, where no one is in danger just from being around him. Where he doesn't have to acknowledge what he did, who he is or isn't now, what he became and what he can still become. He would have isolated himself further if he could but his legs had just stopped carrying him.
He's on his way to disappearing inside his own head again when he hears him. Jesse calling his name, the familiar accent and tone of voice reaching him in the depths. It's him, and somehow that's enough to get Daryl to open his eyes. ]
I'm here.
[ But he doesn't call out, he doesn't even raise his voice. He simply answers because that's what you're supposed to do, right? He's practically wedged between two crates, hidden from sight by careless, exhausted design, but as much as he's tried to shut down there's something raw he can't kill that desperately needs to be found. ]
[ Jesse exhales, a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. It's quiet, but it's enough. He recognizes that gravelly voice instantly.
He all but barrels into the alley, crashing past discarded crates until he skids to a halt in front of Daryl's little hiding place and stares down at him. ]
Fuck, man.
[ But there's a tremor to the words. He blinks hard and shakes his head, bending down. He doesn't bother offering Daryl a hand to see if he'll take it and haul himself up. He's seen too many friends too fucked up to think that'll work. Hell, he's been that guy.
So instead, he just gets right in there, pulling Daryl's arm over his own shoulders and wrapping an arm around his back to drag him to his feet whether he wants to go or not. ]
C'mon. Let's get outta here.
[ Because as much as he has no idea what's happening right now, as much as he's actually halfway functioning by sheer will and not much else, he knows one thing. This alley is no place for either of them. ]
[ A crash, a shift of colour, and there he is in front of him. Just like he'd left him, even Jesse's expression looks the same. Plain distress.
If it's possible for such a big, solid guy to come off like a ghost, Daryl probably manages it. He sees Jesse but his gaze seems to go all the way through him. If he'd wanted to stay on the ground, he could have. Jesse isn't a waif anymore but no amount of pulling and hauling could have gotten Daryl to his feet if he'd tried to resist.
But he doesn't. He doesn't go willingly either, not really, but when Jesse grabs him and tries to lift him, Daryl just does what he's being told to do. He stands, only a little unsteady, but his eyes aren't focusing or taking in where they're going. He doesn't even ask, just gets his feet under him and then just stands there, a leaning tree supported by someone else. Dead on the inside.
Let's get outta here. That, at least, makes him put a full thought together. ]
There's nowhere to go.
[ They're trapped. No one knows that better than Daryl, now. ]
[ It's unnerving, but again, nothing Jesse hasn't seen before. It helps, maybe, that Jesse's not entirely sober himself. The most upsetting part of the whole thing is the thought that probably Daryl is. This isn't drugs or probably even booze. This is purely the result of whatever Daryl had seen out there. Whatever had happened to him.
He's silent for a moment, just bearing Daryl's weight, trying to decide how far he's strong enough to take him. At least Daryl's not fighting him, or he'd be totally fucked. ]
I know.
[ He says it quietly. Because he does know where Daryl means. This isn't about the boarding house or finding a bed for him to crash in. He's quiet another moment, then gives Daryl's waist a squeeze, starting to drag him along out of the alley. ]
[ He doesn't have anything left in him to argue with. There's a good chance Jesse could have turned him back towards the castle or told him they were going back to the void and Daryl would have followed him for lack of anything else to do. He doesn't want to think. He doesn't want to decide when there are no real decisions left for him to make.
He can be a captive or he can be a captive with privileges. It all feels the same to Daryl.
So one foot in front of the other, slowly, they make it out of the alley. Before long Daryl is able to take a little more of his own weight but he doesn't do anything with that power. He just waits to be told what to do and where to go. Every thought and memory feels like a knife in his mind and when he breathes, all the exhales are unsteady. ]
[ Jesse shoots him a worried look as they go. He's used to Daryl being quiet, but not like this. Not this passive.
But maybe it's for the best, for the moment. Daryl lets Jesse lead the way and he doesn't protest when he turns them towards the boarding house, instead of the woods. He wouldn't have the first idea how to take care of him out there. Especially since all Daryl's stuff is now with Jesse.
So they end up back in the same room they'd spent huddled up in during the storm. The same one where they'd said goodbye. And maybe that's a little weird, weird that Jesse had stayed there even after Daryl had left him twice, but it's not like he'd had a ton of other options for alternate housing. It's a good room, regardless of what had or hadn't happened there.
He gets Daryl onto the bed, automatically arranging him on his side instead of his back even though there's probably no need for it. Then he pulls a blanket up over him. He doesn't do it often, but he at least knows how to deal with people who've gotten fucked up. ]
[ The boarding house. Daryl would have balked at it a week ago, would have thought about it being burned and frozen, he certainly would have been tripped up about the murders he knows took place inside it. He would have at least thought about the four days they'd spent together there and been uncomfortably flustered by the memory.
Now, it's as good a place for him to be as any. He doesn't even flinch when Jesse gets him through the doors.
Upstairs, Daryl only lies down because Jesse moves him to do so. The last thing he wants to do is sleep, he has no idea what his dreams will be, but neither does sitting up really mean anything to him right then. Something in his head flickers though when the blanket is drawn over him. He finally looks at Jesse, really sees him, and for a second it looks like he might say something.
Then he just shakes his head. No, the last thing he wants is food right now. ]
[ He won't force it. He might have to try harder to persuade him later, if Daryl's appetite doesn't come back, but for now, it's fine. He's here inside instead of out in a sketchy, dirty alley, he's safe and warm, and Jesse's here to make sure nothing happens. It's enough.
He hesitates for a moment, and then sits down on the edge of the bed, in front of Daryl. They're not touching, not quite, but it's close. Jesse glances back at him, studying his face. Daryl's never been expressive, but right now it almost looks like he's not seeing anything at all. ]
[ The words seem alien. Laughable, if Daryl could even remember how to laugh. Nothing is okay, nothing can ever be the same again, not if he's trapped here, and finally Daryl's eyes focus a little more. Then they get glassy. ]
No.
[ It takes a lot out of him just to say that much. His voice is hoarse. He's barely ever used it in this second life of his. ]
No. Ain't nothin' okay.
[ He can't look at Jesse. He thinks he might see him if he does and that will bring back things Daryl knows he can't let in. Jesse hadn't wanted him to go, had told him it was a bad idea. He'd just told him so again, hadn't he? In his mind while Daryl was trying to hide. How could he have ever thought he'd have the power to just walk out of this place? How had he been misguided enough to take two other people with him?
A wave of nausea hits him and Daryl flinches on the bed, drawing in on himself like he's suddenly in pain. ]
[ Oh. Yeah. Well. That shouldn't be much of a surprise, and it isn't, now that he thinks about it. Daryl hadn't gotten back to where he was going, he'd gone through something horrible instead. He'd fucking died, and even if Jesse's secretly, guiltily relieved that he's still here, that he's back, no. It doesn't make anything okay.
But Jesse's also not sure what he can say to help. Mabye nothing. He hesitates, looking back and down at Daryl, who's staring stubbornly ahead at the wall, his hair half-covering his face. He raises an uncertain hand to maybe put on his arm, maybe try to offer comfort, and that's when Daryl's whole body spasms. ]
Whoa - whoa, shit, man, take it easy -
[ His hand does fall down to rest on Daryl's waist, and he drops to his knees at the side of his bed, getting in Daryl's line of sight and peering anxiously at him, whether Daryl wants to look at him or not. ]
It's - it's okay, just breathe, okay? You wanna sit up? Would that help?
[ He doesn't want to look at him, he turns his face into the mattress to avoid it but even that glimpse of Jesse's eyes, of the distressed, focused expression on the guy, cuts into Daryl like a blade. He doesn't know. He's here and taking care of Daryl and he doesn't know what a fucking monster he's dealing with.
He doesn't know what he's done. No one does, but they need to. Daryl needs to warn him, he needs to warn people before he gets anyone else hurt. The fact that he's miles from the void now and the triggers that had forced him to transform couldn't matter less.
All that exists is what he's done. ]
I killed her.
[ The tears finally spring up properly and Daryl almost sobs the confession into the sheets. He doesn't even have the stomach to tell Jesse the rest. He knows he'd throw up if he did. ]
[ The words are like a punch in the gut. Worse. It's as if Daryl had picked him up and flung him directly into the past, directly back to that crackhouse where Mr. White had found him, fucked up and half dead. It's not just that the words are exactly the same as the ones that had been ripped from Jesse's throat back then. There are tears in Daryl's voice, a sob threatening to break free, and for a moment Jesse doesn't react at all. He can't. He couldn't if his life had depended on it.
Even once the initial shock passes, there are no words he can think of to say. He doesn't know what had happened out there, if what Daryl says is true, but it doesn't matter. Even if he'd known the whole story, maybe he still wouldn't have been able to find any words of comfort. Maybe there aren't any.
So instead of trying, he just acts. In a single move he's off the floor and back on the bed with Daryl, rolling him over so he can slide in beside him, wrapping his arms and legs around him like an octopus. He holds on tight, pressing into Daryl as hard as he can, denying him the opportunity to pull away. ]
[ The barrier of numbness, the survival instinct to repress has finally been broken and Daryl can't stop crying. His first few sobs are shuddering and loud but then the following tears are silent, enough to cramp his chest and keep him curled tight, enough to collapse his lungs and keep him from catching his breath, but he doesn't make any sound for a while. Not until he feels the bed dip and senses Jesse pulling at him. Then he lets out a whine, but just one.
He doesn't try to pull away from the embrace but he can't unclench his body. He just turns his face farther into the sheets and shakes, his unsteady breathing slowly, slowly evening out as the hours(?) wear on. After a while, he has no idea how long, he stops his whole-body flinches and just lies there, still and blinking away tears.
There's no time, only the memories of what he did and the blurry walls around him.
Around them, he's reminded when he can finally notice sensations again. There are arms around him, legs too, and after an eon, Daryl is able to reach up and close one weak hand around Jesse's forearm. ]
[ It's not hours, but it's a long, long time before Daryl's tears finally subside and his breathing steadies. Jesse stays where he is, curled tight around him. He squeezes his eyes shut against a few tears of his own, which leak out anyway, wet against Daryl's back. His chest is tight and painful with memories of those dark, empty days after Jane, but he tries not to let himself dwell on them too long. Daryl needs him here, now. If Jesse falls apart too, they're both fucked.
He drifts a little bit, awake and aware of Daryl sobbing in his arms but just letting it happen. Letting him take the time he needs. But as soon as Daryl's hand closes weakly around his arm, his full attention snaps back to him.
He doesn't say anything at first, just squeezes him a little tighter, letting him know he's there. He waits a few moments, just to make sure Jesse isn't going to say anything or collapse into sobs again, and then speaks quietly. ]
You're okay, man.
You gotta drink some water. I'm gonna get you some. Okay?
[ Nothing is okay. He can feel that more than ever now that he's grounded in his body again. He doesn't want to drink, doesn't want to sit up, doesn't even want Jesse to move, but protesting isn't in him. He just lets go of Jesse's arm and when he inevitably pulls away from him, Daryl begins the long process of sitting up.
It seems pointless but he does it. He draws his knees up a little and presses his back into the headboard, cautiousness be damned. He hasn't forgotten how he'd found Jesse that time they were snowed in but he's far from caring enough to be wary.
What's the point of having an eye out for risks if you're just going to be brought back? If there's no escape from this? ]
[ There's a glass of water by his bed, room temperature and with his own germs on the rim, but Jesse figures they're way past worrying about cooties by this point. He doesn't want to leave Daryl alone if he can possibly help it. Not right now.
So he just grabs the glass and comes back, handing it to Daryl and just looking at him in response to the warning. ]
What?
Careful how?
[ He hadn't done anything to piss him off, had he? Daryl doesn't seem pissed at him, despite the words. ]
[ Daryl takes the glass from him but like a simpleton in an old movie, he just holds it in his lap. Holding something is good, though. It gives him something to do, something to keep from spilling when the rest of him just won't stop. ]
I changed... all the way.
[ He knows what it was that first time, now. Just a taste of what the rest of him is capable of. Jesse only knows the taste. ]
[ Jesse waits, hovering. He'll give Daryl a minute, he decides, but if he doesn't drink the water himself he'll have to remind him. Get him to do it, rehydrate himself a little bit. Then...
He doesn't know what, after that. But Daryl's admission sends it all out of his head. He stares, the water and everything else forgotten. ]
You mean you -
[ But there's nothing to ask. He knows already. Knows what had happened last time, knows that as horrific as it had been, Daryl's teeth and claws and animal instincts in the forest had only been a partial transformation at best. And now this. I killed her. He sits down heavily on the bed, feeling cold. ]
But you're not -
You're okay now. [ He shoots a quick glance at Daryl. Fully human and cognizant, no hint of the beast inside. ] You're - you're you.
[ And there's no reason to worry that that might change. Right? Except now there's a nagging worry gnawing at Jesse's thoughts. It hasn't been that long since Daryl had found him handcuffed to the bed and they'd stumbled back to this room together, even now. It had only been a few weeks after that when he'd taken off for the void. Not long enough for him to even have to start worrying about transforming, according to what they'd been told. Definitely not enough for him to transform fully, even if he'd been totally chaste since he'd left Jesse behind.
And Jesse hasn't changed. So why had Daryl? All the way, as he'd put it? ]
[ He feels dull, stupid, but he supposes he does feel like himself. Or at least some version of himself, whatever is left after something else had so definitively ripped through and took over his body. Worse, his mind. The thoughts had felt like his own, the urges, the instincts. He'd believed every vision he was shown and acted the only way that had seemed to make sense.
But he can't say any of that, so he just shakes his head. ]
I can't forget it.
I can't stop... thinkin' about how it felt.
[ The memories feel like his own. His grip on the glass tightens, his knuckles whitening a little. It's a good thing it's a strong glass because a little of his strength seems to be returning. ]
I don't even know what set it off.
[ His throat is already scratching and raw from all these words, more than he's spoken since screaming himself back to life in the dungeons. ]
[ Jesse says it quietly. Maybe he doesn't know know, exactly. But he can imagine. He knows what it's like to dwell on something constantly, replay it over and over in his head. To not know how to let go. ]
You don't gotta forget. You just gotta... [ He swallows, his throat tight. ] Figure out how...how to live with it.
But no matter what you felt, or...or how much of it you remember, that wasn't you. Cause whatever you did, it's nothin' you would've chosen to do. Right?
[ Daryl has that going for him, at least. Whatever regrets are haunting him now, whatever horrible, unforgiveable thing he'd done out there...at least he hadn't been in control. It wasn't his fault. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ That...doesn't make any sense. Yeah, he's heard the stories, but unlike the monsters, he hasn't actually seen anybody come back to life. It makes it harder to believe it's actually real. And besides, even if it is real, the Duchess doesn't bring anybody back until the first. It's only been a couple of days, right? There's no way it's been long enough that...
Fuck. How long has it been? Jesse suddenly realizes he has no idea how much time he's actually lost to his drug-addled haze.
He reaches out again, more cautiously this time, but more focused, as if he can somehow sense Daryl himself and not just his words if he tries hard enough. ]
Daryl?
[ And if, or when, no answer comes, he reaches out a little more forcefully. ]
DARYL?
to voice;
But the hands in front of him look like his own. This guilt feels like his own. The new memories might be hot shards but that's why he's trying to keep his head empty. His mind quiet.
It isn't working. ]
Yeah.
Yeah, it's me.
[ He can barely get it out. ]
no subject
Are you -
Where are you?
no subject
He isn't in the castle, staring up at that creepy fucking mask in the shadows, feeling every single moment of his resurrection. He isn't still walking with Mavis and Terry, a little pack of ghosts, unable to look at either of them without feeling his mind fray in the very center.
But where is he? ]
Dunno.
[ And then, ]
Smells like booze.
no subject
'Kay.
[ He's not the ideal person to be going after Daryl right now, he knows. He can't even remember the last time he was sober. Unfortunately, the very fact that he's so fucked up means his impulse control isn't great right now, either. And the thought of not running to find Daryl right now - even of taking the time to try to find someone else he thinks he can trust to help - is intolerable.
So he scrambles to his feet and starts moving, mind-messaging Daryl as he goes. ]
Just stay there, okay? I'm coming, just - don't do anything.
[ It takes him longer than he'd like to actually track Daryl down, mostly because he checks the actual tavern itself first, scouring it top to bottom. But eventually, a figure steps hesitantly into the alley, silhouetted by the lamplight. ]
Daryl?
Please, man, say you're fuckin' here.
no subject
He's on his way to disappearing inside his own head again when he hears him. Jesse calling his name, the familiar accent and tone of voice reaching him in the depths. It's him, and somehow that's enough to get Daryl to open his eyes. ]
I'm here.
[ But he doesn't call out, he doesn't even raise his voice. He simply answers because that's what you're supposed to do, right? He's practically wedged between two crates, hidden from sight by careless, exhausted design, but as much as he's tried to shut down there's something raw he can't kill that desperately needs to be found. ]
no subject
He all but barrels into the alley, crashing past discarded crates until he skids to a halt in front of Daryl's little hiding place and stares down at him. ]
Fuck, man.
[ But there's a tremor to the words. He blinks hard and shakes his head, bending down. He doesn't bother offering Daryl a hand to see if he'll take it and haul himself up. He's seen too many friends too fucked up to think that'll work. Hell, he's been that guy.
So instead, he just gets right in there, pulling Daryl's arm over his own shoulders and wrapping an arm around his back to drag him to his feet whether he wants to go or not. ]
C'mon. Let's get outta here.
[ Because as much as he has no idea what's happening right now, as much as he's actually halfway functioning by sheer will and not much else, he knows one thing. This alley is no place for either of them. ]
no subject
If it's possible for such a big, solid guy to come off like a ghost, Daryl probably manages it. He sees Jesse but his gaze seems to go all the way through him. If he'd wanted to stay on the ground, he could have. Jesse isn't a waif anymore but no amount of pulling and hauling could have gotten Daryl to his feet if he'd tried to resist.
But he doesn't. He doesn't go willingly either, not really, but when Jesse grabs him and tries to lift him, Daryl just does what he's being told to do. He stands, only a little unsteady, but his eyes aren't focusing or taking in where they're going. He doesn't even ask, just gets his feet under him and then just stands there, a leaning tree supported by someone else. Dead on the inside.
Let's get outta here. That, at least, makes him put a full thought together. ]
There's nowhere to go.
[ They're trapped. No one knows that better than Daryl, now. ]
no subject
He's silent for a moment, just bearing Daryl's weight, trying to decide how far he's strong enough to take him. At least Daryl's not fighting him, or he'd be totally fucked. ]
I know.
[ He says it quietly. Because he does know where Daryl means. This isn't about the boarding house or finding a bed for him to crash in. He's quiet another moment, then gives Daryl's waist a squeeze, starting to drag him along out of the alley. ]
C'mon. This place reeks.
no subject
He can be a captive or he can be a captive with privileges. It all feels the same to Daryl.
So one foot in front of the other, slowly, they make it out of the alley. Before long Daryl is able to take a little more of his own weight but he doesn't do anything with that power. He just waits to be told what to do and where to go. Every thought and memory feels like a knife in his mind and when he breathes, all the exhales are unsteady. ]
no subject
But maybe it's for the best, for the moment. Daryl lets Jesse lead the way and he doesn't protest when he turns them towards the boarding house, instead of the woods. He wouldn't have the first idea how to take care of him out there. Especially since all Daryl's stuff is now with Jesse.
So they end up back in the same room they'd spent huddled up in during the storm. The same one where they'd said goodbye. And maybe that's a little weird, weird that Jesse had stayed there even after Daryl had left him twice, but it's not like he'd had a ton of other options for alternate housing. It's a good room, regardless of what had or hadn't happened there.
He gets Daryl onto the bed, automatically arranging him on his side instead of his back even though there's probably no need for it. Then he pulls a blanket up over him. He doesn't do it often, but he at least knows how to deal with people who've gotten fucked up. ]
You want some...food, or somethin'?
no subject
Now, it's as good a place for him to be as any. He doesn't even flinch when Jesse gets him through the doors.
Upstairs, Daryl only lies down because Jesse moves him to do so. The last thing he wants to do is sleep, he has no idea what his dreams will be, but neither does sitting up really mean anything to him right then. Something in his head flickers though when the blanket is drawn over him. He finally looks at Jesse, really sees him, and for a second it looks like he might say something.
Then he just shakes his head. No, the last thing he wants is food right now. ]
no subject
[ He won't force it. He might have to try harder to persuade him later, if Daryl's appetite doesn't come back, but for now, it's fine. He's here inside instead of out in a sketchy, dirty alley, he's safe and warm, and Jesse's here to make sure nothing happens. It's enough.
He hesitates for a moment, and then sits down on the edge of the bed, in front of Daryl. They're not touching, not quite, but it's close. Jesse glances back at him, studying his face. Daryl's never been expressive, but right now it almost looks like he's not seeing anything at all. ]
Hey, man...
[ His voice is soft, the worry obvious. ]
It's okay now. You're okay.
no subject
No.
[ It takes a lot out of him just to say that much. His voice is hoarse. He's barely ever used it in this second life of his. ]
No. Ain't nothin' okay.
[ He can't look at Jesse. He thinks he might see him if he does and that will bring back things Daryl knows he can't let in. Jesse hadn't wanted him to go, had told him it was a bad idea. He'd just told him so again, hadn't he? In his mind while Daryl was trying to hide. How could he have ever thought he'd have the power to just walk out of this place? How had he been misguided enough to take two other people with him?
A wave of nausea hits him and Daryl flinches on the bed, drawing in on himself like he's suddenly in pain. ]
no subject
But Jesse's also not sure what he can say to help. Mabye nothing. He hesitates, looking back and down at Daryl, who's staring stubbornly ahead at the wall, his hair half-covering his face. He raises an uncertain hand to maybe put on his arm, maybe try to offer comfort, and that's when Daryl's whole body spasms. ]
Whoa - whoa, shit, man, take it easy -
[ His hand does fall down to rest on Daryl's waist, and he drops to his knees at the side of his bed, getting in Daryl's line of sight and peering anxiously at him, whether Daryl wants to look at him or not. ]
It's - it's okay, just breathe, okay? You wanna sit up? Would that help?
surely this won't be triggering for jesse at all
He doesn't know what he's done. No one does, but they need to. Daryl needs to warn him, he needs to warn people before he gets anyone else hurt. The fact that he's miles from the void now and the triggers that had forced him to transform couldn't matter less.
All that exists is what he's done. ]
I killed her.
[ The tears finally spring up properly and Daryl almost sobs the confession into the sheets. He doesn't even have the stomach to tell Jesse the rest. He knows he'd throw up if he did. ]
cries 5ever
Even once the initial shock passes, there are no words he can think of to say. He doesn't know what had happened out there, if what Daryl says is true, but it doesn't matter. Even if he'd known the whole story, maybe he still wouldn't have been able to find any words of comfort. Maybe there aren't any.
So instead of trying, he just acts. In a single move he's off the floor and back on the bed with Daryl, rolling him over so he can slide in beside him, wrapping his arms and legs around him like an octopus. He holds on tight, pressing into Daryl as hard as he can, denying him the opportunity to pull away. ]
no subject
He doesn't try to pull away from the embrace but he can't unclench his body. He just turns his face farther into the sheets and shakes, his unsteady breathing slowly, slowly evening out as the hours(?) wear on. After a while, he has no idea how long, he stops his whole-body flinches and just lies there, still and blinking away tears.
There's no time, only the memories of what he did and the blurry walls around him.
Around them, he's reminded when he can finally notice sensations again. There are arms around him, legs too, and after an eon, Daryl is able to reach up and close one weak hand around Jesse's forearm. ]
no subject
He drifts a little bit, awake and aware of Daryl sobbing in his arms but just letting it happen. Letting him take the time he needs. But as soon as Daryl's hand closes weakly around his arm, his full attention snaps back to him.
He doesn't say anything at first, just squeezes him a little tighter, letting him know he's there. He waits a few moments, just to make sure Jesse isn't going to say anything or collapse into sobs again, and then speaks quietly. ]
You're okay, man.
You gotta drink some water. I'm gonna get you some. Okay?
no subject
It seems pointless but he does it. He draws his knees up a little and presses his back into the headboard, cautiousness be damned. He hasn't forgotten how he'd found Jesse that time they were snowed in but he's far from caring enough to be wary.
What's the point of having an eye out for risks if you're just going to be brought back? If there's no escape from this? ]
Be careful. Around me.
no subject
So he just grabs the glass and comes back, handing it to Daryl and just looking at him in response to the warning. ]
What?
Careful how?
[ He hadn't done anything to piss him off, had he? Daryl doesn't seem pissed at him, despite the words. ]
no subject
I changed... all the way.
[ He knows what it was that first time, now. Just a taste of what the rest of him is capable of. Jesse only knows the taste. ]
no subject
He doesn't know what, after that. But Daryl's admission sends it all out of his head. He stares, the water and everything else forgotten. ]
You mean you -
[ But there's nothing to ask. He knows already. Knows what had happened last time, knows that as horrific as it had been, Daryl's teeth and claws and animal instincts in the forest had only been a partial transformation at best. And now this. I killed her. He sits down heavily on the bed, feeling cold. ]
But you're not -
You're okay now. [ He shoots a quick glance at Daryl. Fully human and cognizant, no hint of the beast inside. ] You're - you're you.
[ And there's no reason to worry that that might change. Right? Except now there's a nagging worry gnawing at Jesse's thoughts. It hasn't been that long since Daryl had found him handcuffed to the bed and they'd stumbled back to this room together, even now. It had only been a few weeks after that when he'd taken off for the void. Not long enough for him to even have to start worrying about transforming, according to what they'd been told. Definitely not enough for him to transform fully, even if he'd been totally chaste since he'd left Jesse behind.
And Jesse hasn't changed. So why had Daryl? All the way, as he'd put it? ]
no subject
But he can't say any of that, so he just shakes his head. ]
I can't forget it.
I can't stop... thinkin' about how it felt.
[ The memories feel like his own. His grip on the glass tightens, his knuckles whitening a little. It's a good thing it's a strong glass because a little of his strength seems to be returning. ]
I don't even know what set it off.
[ His throat is already scratching and raw from all these words, more than he's spoken since screaming himself back to life in the dungeons. ]
no subject
[ Jesse says it quietly. Maybe he doesn't know know, exactly. But he can imagine. He knows what it's like to dwell on something constantly, replay it over and over in his head. To not know how to let go. ]
You don't gotta forget. You just gotta... [ He swallows, his throat tight. ] Figure out how...how to live with it.
But no matter what you felt, or...or how much of it you remember, that wasn't you. Cause whatever you did, it's nothin' you would've chosen to do. Right?
[ Daryl has that going for him, at least. Whatever regrets are haunting him now, whatever horrible, unforgiveable thing he'd done out there...at least he hadn't been in control. It wasn't his fault. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)