![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[ He's regained the capacity for thought but not for speech. He's been sitting for a long time, tucked in a back alley between ale crates, unable to make it even to the gates. The numbness that has descended on him is far better than the way he's been feeling since regaining consciousness in that... place.
He knows he'll probably die here again beside the recycling if he doesn't get up.
But he just can't. So he reaches for the only person he trusts. ]
It didn't work.
He knows he'll probably die here again beside the recycling if he doesn't get up.
But he just can't. So he reaches for the only person he trusts. ]
It didn't work.
[ Jesse doesn't actually leave Daryl on read. He's technically awake when the message comes through, but only because sleep has eluded him again, as it has more often than not the last few nights. He's actually not entirely sure what day it is, not that he'd ever gotten great at keeping track, here in this place with no calendar and no schedule (at least not for Jesse, still living in the boarding house and freeloading rather than finding a job).
He feels guilty. Sick with grief. Angry at Daryl for going off and getting himself killed, when he knew how dangerous it was. Confused about why he's feeling any of these things, and at a loss for what to do about any of it. He's heard that people don't stay dead here, that the Duchess, or someone, brings them back. But hearing it is one thing. For the long few days between when he'd found Felipe stumbling bloodied and broken out of the woods and the first of the month, all he knows is that Daryl's dead. And Jesse had been too chickenshit to even go into the woods and bring his body back. He hadn't even tried. He'd been too scared - both of what waited out there in the void, and what it would mean if he somehow actually managed to succeed. If he'd found Daryl's body, cold and lifeless, maybe mangled beyond recognition. What the fuck would he have even done with it?
So he'd stayed in the town, restless and unhappy, unable to concentrate on anything at all. His appetite had dwindled, something he'd never thought possible again. He'd taken whatever mind-altering substances he could get his hands on, and studiously avoided House. When Daryl's message comes through, he's only half-sober, gazing blankly at a wall. He blinks slowly, assuming, at first, that he's hallucinating. Probably not a good sign, but he's too stoned to care. ]
no shit
He feels guilty. Sick with grief. Angry at Daryl for going off and getting himself killed, when he knew how dangerous it was. Confused about why he's feeling any of these things, and at a loss for what to do about any of it. He's heard that people don't stay dead here, that the Duchess, or someone, brings them back. But hearing it is one thing. For the long few days between when he'd found Felipe stumbling bloodied and broken out of the woods and the first of the month, all he knows is that Daryl's dead. And Jesse had been too chickenshit to even go into the woods and bring his body back. He hadn't even tried. He'd been too scared - both of what waited out there in the void, and what it would mean if he somehow actually managed to succeed. If he'd found Daryl's body, cold and lifeless, maybe mangled beyond recognition. What the fuck would he have even done with it?
So he'd stayed in the town, restless and unhappy, unable to concentrate on anything at all. His appetite had dwindled, something he'd never thought possible again. He'd taken whatever mind-altering substances he could get his hands on, and studiously avoided House. When Daryl's message comes through, he's only half-sober, gazing blankly at a wall. He blinks slowly, assuming, at first, that he's hallucinating. Probably not a good sign, but he's too stoned to care. ]
no shit
✓ read 12:07 am
[ If Daryl was capable of feeling anything anymore, if he hadn't just spent an eon being knit back together from the inside out, screaming silently until his mind shredded, he might have laughed. Snorted, smiled even. It's all so insane. He was fucking dead and now he isn't, but more than that, he's stuck. Trapped. Worse than dead and he just can't move beyond that. The shadow of the things he'd done and what was done to him creep into every thought he starts to form so he just... doesn't think.
He shuts down, closes off, a bad habit he still reaches for when it's all too much, but this time it feels bottomless. Utterly. If his body can't die, all the other parts of him might still be able to. His mind just starts to go quiet because if he thinks, he remembers.
And there's far, far too much for him to remember. ]
[ If Daryl was capable of feeling anything anymore, if he hadn't just spent an eon being knit back together from the inside out, screaming silently until his mind shredded, he might have laughed. Snorted, smiled even. It's all so insane. He was fucking dead and now he isn't, but more than that, he's stuck. Trapped. Worse than dead and he just can't move beyond that. The shadow of the things he'd done and what was done to him creep into every thought he starts to form so he just... doesn't think.
He shuts down, closes off, a bad habit he still reaches for when it's all too much, but this time it feels bottomless. Utterly. If his body can't die, all the other parts of him might still be able to. His mind just starts to go quiet because if he thinks, he remembers.
And there's far, far too much for him to remember. ]
[ He doesn't actually expect a response, naturally, because as far as he's concerned Daryl's not really there. So the silence doesn't sting for Jesse the same way. He just keeps on staring at the wall, floating a little, numb to the world.
Except Daryl's in his head now (literally). He's thinking about it, whether he wants to or not. Thinking about him, and everything that had happened, and now thinking about what if Daryl could hear his thoughts? What if he could finally tell him everything that's on his mind, get it all out, stop suppressing it like his life depended on it? What a relief that would be.
So after a long moment of nothing, the messages start coming, rapidfire, more stream of consciousness than any verbal rant could ever be. ]
i fucking told you
i told you it was dangerous
you didnt listen
you didnt want me there because you didnt want me getting hurt and look what happened to you
idiot
i couldnt even go out there i couldnt even find you i was too much of a pussy to even do that
how come you never said you had a family
you never talked about em
maybe they werent even that important huh
maybe you just wanted an excuse to go away
[ He's not even making any sense by the end, just lashing out any way he can think of, and he knows it. But it also doesn't matter. Because Daryl's not really hearing it. ]
Except Daryl's in his head now (literally). He's thinking about it, whether he wants to or not. Thinking about him, and everything that had happened, and now thinking about what if Daryl could hear his thoughts? What if he could finally tell him everything that's on his mind, get it all out, stop suppressing it like his life depended on it? What a relief that would be.
So after a long moment of nothing, the messages start coming, rapidfire, more stream of consciousness than any verbal rant could ever be. ]
i fucking told you
i told you it was dangerous
you didnt listen
you didnt want me there because you didnt want me getting hurt and look what happened to you
idiot
i couldnt even go out there i couldnt even find you i was too much of a pussy to even do that
how come you never said you had a family
you never talked about em
maybe they werent even that important huh
maybe you just wanted an excuse to go away
[ He's not even making any sense by the end, just lashing out any way he can think of, and he knows it. But it also doesn't matter. Because Daryl's not really hearing it. ]
[ He's drifting. Detaching. The words suddenly coming to him, words that need reading, are what slows it down. They make him remember at least one person. One person he left behind but didn't hurt, not like the others. Not this time.
But he had. He had, and that's why the stream of text is hitting him now. It almost stings, that last accusation. Almost, but the slightest return to feeling gets Daryl to take a breath. He doesn't lift his head, he doesn't even open his eyes.
But a thought comes. ]
Sorry.
But he had. He had, and that's why the stream of text is hitting him now. It almost stings, that last accusation. Almost, but the slightest return to feeling gets Daryl to take a breath. He doesn't lift his head, he doesn't even open his eyes.
But a thought comes. ]
Sorry.
[ He wishes. Fuck, does he wish. If none of this was real it wouldn't be the end of his entire world. The end of who he is. The only version of himself that's ever been worth being is the one that belongs to his people. ]
You're right.
Shoulda listened to you.
[ Then he wouldn't know for sure just how over his life is. He wouldn't have seen what he saw, done what he did, he wouldn't have killed her... ]
You're right.
Shoulda listened to you.
[ Then he wouldn't know for sure just how over his life is. He wouldn't have seen what he saw, done what he did, he wouldn't have killed her... ]
[ This is getting unnerving. Maybe because he's still not quite used to the whole telepathy thing, maybe because he's never had hallucinations quite like this before. Or maybe because the way Daryl's just agreeing to everything he's saying is more upsetting than if he'd pushed back and stood up for himself. It's making it impossible to maintain his righteous indignation. Thanks, Obama. ]
i wish you werent dead
[ He's tired. So, so tired of people dying. ]
i wish you werent dead
[ He's tired. So, so tired of people dying. ]
Be easier if I still was.
[ At least all this would be over. At least he would stop feeling like an empty space, a wound where a person used to be. He's nothing when he's alone. No one.
Slowly, slowly, the ache is flooding back in, the guilt, the pain, and he can't stop it. He curls into himself harder, just a lump in the shadows. If he could disappear, just cease to exist, he would. ]
[ At least all this would be over. At least he would stop feeling like an empty space, a wound where a person used to be. He's nothing when he's alone. No one.
Slowly, slowly, the ache is flooding back in, the guilt, the pain, and he can't stop it. He curls into himself harder, just a lump in the shadows. If he could disappear, just cease to exist, he would. ]
what
[ 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?
[ 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?
[ 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.
It isn't working. ]
Yeah.
Yeah, it's me.
[ He can barely get it out. ]
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. ]
[ 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. ]
Are you -
Where are you?
Are you -
Where are you?
[ Where is he?
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.
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.
[ 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. ]
Daryl?
Please, man, say you're fuckin' here.
'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.
[ 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. ]
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. ]
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. ]
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. ]
C'mon. This place reeks.
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.
[ 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. ]
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. ]
You want some...food, or somethin'?
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'?
yeah
[ He hesitates. Maybe it isn't any of Felipe's business - Jesse still doesn't actually know him all that well, even if Daryl does. But it seems stupid not to share the truth. He owes Felipe that much peace of mind, at least. ]
daryls with me
i havent seen mavis
[ He hesitates. Maybe it isn't any of Felipe's business - Jesse still doesn't actually know him all that well, even if Daryl does. But it seems stupid not to share the truth. He owes Felipe that much peace of mind, at least. ]
daryls with me
i havent seen mavis
Page 1 of 12