[ He does know it's just a nice gesture. He appreciates it too, which is probably evident in the way he most certainly does smile at how patently ridiculous Daryl is about eating the damn mint.
The pawn shop is... Jesus keeps a lookout for anything that might pop up outside until Daryl calls the all-clear at which time he slips inside and lets the door shut behind him. He looks through shelves while Daryl's at the cage. Nothing too big right away but even--there are a couple toys hanging out and he pops open the backs of them looking for batteries.
There are two sets and he pockets them: better than nothing so long as they work, and they're not popped with corrosive acid so it's a good bet they might so long as they're not totally dry.
When Daryl speaks he looks over at him and nods before poking through a few more things. ]
You ever get paranoid because things seem to be going too well?
[ He knocks on a wooden knife block (empty) as he speaks. Knock on wood, etc. ]
[All the time. Daryl didn't have the means to open the cage just then, but as he made his way back along the counter, he pocketed a couple flip knives that looked useful enough.]
[ They probably should have brought bolt cutters. Next time. He's moving back through the aisles to get back toward the door as he speaks: at least they did bring their healthy senses of caution and paranoia. ]
Almost tempted to call it a day with these two, but I've always liked pressing my luck.
[Daryl shook his knife nervously, tapping his thigh with it. Then shook his head.]
Nah. No pressing luck. This is good enough. We get a few samples from here, from the pharmacy, and we go. Organize a group from both settlements to come clean it out together in a few days.
[His tone had gone terse and eyes darted toward the ceiling. There was a reason he'd asked about the helicopter. Jesus was right, this did seem too good to be true and the last time they had a haul like that had been back at the prison. Just before everything fell apart.]
[ As soon as he realizes it's Daryl being very serious about and cognizant of a possible threat something in him changes utterly. It's possible Daryl hasn't seen this side of him - if he has it isn't often - but his eyes filter sharp before he nods. ]
We'll move quick then head back.
[ And it really is quick - he grabs a few more things from the shelves, anything halfway useful that won't take up much room. Then he's jerking his head toward the door. ]
I'll fill the rest of the bag at the pharmacy. Get the bike ready and I'll be back out in three minutes. Holler if anything happens, I'll do the same.
[ Businesslike. Not worried or anxious, but tight. ]
[Daryl was grabbing a few more small knives he could shove in his pockets, a pair of collapsible binoculars, and a cigarette case before he jumped the counter again and started to cruise the shelves for anything else that was small and useful. His saddlebag couldn't care a lot, but three sets of walkie-talkies caught his eye and those were always good to have.]
Got it.
[He answered, hurrying out of the store on Jesus' heels, then jogging over to his bike. His head was up and his eyes alert for any danger. The place was still quiet, but he didn't want do be caught unawares.
He got his haul into his saddlebag, then glanced back at the pawn shop. It was unlocked now. If someone else managed to find this place in the next couple days before they could clear it out, they'd have a huge haul. He didn't like leaving it 'unguarded'. Easy access. After a glance toward the Pharmacy, he ran back to the shop and pulled the outer gate down. At least he could make it look like it was closed up tight.]
[ It's easy to slip out and over to the pharmacy, grabbing what he can from the shelves he can get to: hygiene items, OTC medications, a brief pause before he stuffs the rest of the bag full of packages of other hygiene items: tampons, pads, and so on - a big complaint from the women around Hilltop is a lack of them, he knows. When he sees them he grabs them.
He stops in the doorway before he leaves and considers the same thing. He can't lock the door again. Since there's a grate over the actual drug counter there's not one for the front doors, which is annoying.
He makes a split-second decision because one of the last things they need is for the dead to filter in aimlessly because the door swings open. One of the banks of shelves is loose so he carefully yanks it free. He might be small but he's stronger than he looks and it's not too difficult to drag it to cover the doorway. The scraping is kind of loud but if nothing was drawn by the bike earlier, well.
That done, he shut the door as well as he could and stepped back to where the bike had been left, adjusting the backpack on his shoulders. ]
[Daryl met him at the bike and slid on, turning the engine over. He scooted his butt as far forward as he could and waited only long enough for Jesus to swing in behind him and get a good grip on his waist before shooting them out of the lot and back up the road toward Hilltop.
About half-way there he noticed a reflection ahead of the, cresting over a couple hills in the distance. A car. Sunlight bouncing off it's windshield more than likely. That wasn't good. If it was one of the Savior's they'd have a problem. Daryl was still very much a wanted man.
He veered the bike off the road without saying anything and drove it into the woods that lined it. They were far enough out from where the car was that he could keep going and find an alternate route, or cut the engine and wait for them to pass.]
Car. About ten minutes out maybe. You wanna find another way back or play possum in the trees here for a bit?
[ Sliding onto the bike behind Daryl is easy, as is sitting so close and holding onto him to make sure he doesn't slide off. It makes it a little harder to watch the road in front of them but he can also glance behind them to make sure. All the same he notices the gleam in the distance not long after Daryl does so he doesn't have to ask why they turn off the road. He knows the stakes if it's the Saviors: when he squeezes onto Daryl a little harder it's instinctive and without thought; he doesn't even realize he's doing it.
When Daryl speaks his hold relaxes minutely and his answer comes immediately with a shake of his head. ]
You go further in and cut the engine. I'm going to see what's [ who's, more accurately ] coming by. Best to know what we're dealing with or hiding from.
[ His tone is firm but not quite sharp: still, it brokers no argument. He's perfectly ready to swing off the bike and dart off as he speaks. He's just giving it a second. ] If they're ten minutes out, then give me fifteen. Out to the road, wait for them, coming back in. I'll find you when I come back.
[ Jesus nods, taking the bag off and handing it off to Daryl. But he also stands there a moment and suddenly he's gripping Daryl's arm hard like a vise - not enough to hurt, but his fingertips press into Daryl's bicep and he looks at him, eyes steel. ]
I'm coming back. But if, if I don't come back in the time I said I would, you leave. You get out of here. I'll get back. Don't come after me.
[ He lingers like that a moment purposeful and sharp before he lets go. Then he's gone, darting off through the trees. With any luck his warning won't have to mean anything. ]
[Prick was gone before Daryl could protest it. Like hell he was leaving the fucker behind. If Jesus wasn't there when he said he would be, Daryl was going to hide the bike and go hunting. Ninja was good at hiding, but to a trained tracker, he left a trail easy enough to follow.
Daryl guided the bike through the trees for about three minutes and then cut the engine. The backpack got secured on his shoulders and he had to take a few deep breaths to calm his nerves as he counted off the seconds. He didn't really need to manually count them. Life on the road between the farm and the prison had pretty much trained everyone on an internal clock without needing to look at a watch. But it gave him something to do that wasn't worry.
Three minutes became five. Five became ten. Then he started walking the bike out toward the street, keeping his ears open for any odd sounds. Like another engine or a couple people trampling through the woods to look for him.]
[ Jesus knows Daryl won't take to the order - because that's what it is, an order - well, but it is what it is. He reaches the road again with about a minute to spare before he needs to be, practically invisible in the shadowed woods. He's alert and attentive and when the car passes by he
slinks back further out of sight instinctively. He recognizes the people in the car - two men and a woman. All of them have been to Hilltop at least once. Saviors--they're driving slow enough he holds his breath like they can hear it, heartbeat pounding in his ears. Then the car stops. He's invisible from the road, he knows he is, but his blood runs cold anyway. They're far enough away from him that when the woman gets out and looks at the edge of the road where it peters off into dirt he realizes that it's the tracks.
It's the fucking trail the bike left in their retreat.
Right. Okay. Well, they need to bail. So yeah, there might be some trampling. Jesus is quicker and quieter and knows where to go and now that Daryl is walking the bike it's less likely to leave discernible traces. He doesn't stop moving until he can see Daryl, see the bike. Fourteen minutes and forty-nine seconds. ]
Daryl.
[ It's a barely audible hiss and it's not clear where he is until he just is. Visible, whole, but worried and tight. ]
Daryl refrains from cursing aloud, but only to keep as much silence around them as he could. He doesn't stop walking the bike, either. But he knows they need to get back to the road so they could get out of there.]
Help me push.
[It was an order and Daryl jerked his head to the other side of the bike as he shrugged off the backpack. If he was going to drive, Jesus had to be the one wearing it. And as much as it was annoying passing it back and forth, he wasn't about to let someone else drive his bike if he didn't have to.]
We get to the road, we push the bike down the next hill, let it coast so there's no noise, and hope there's a turn off we can take to throw 'em off.
[ He doesn't speak. He just nods tersely, getting on the other side of the bike to push while simultaneously taking the backpack with his other arm and putting it on. Then going back to the work of pushing. He doesn't relax as they get further away; not being able to hear or sense movement in the trees is just making him more alert and anxious. When he finally speaks it's quiet still. ]
Three of them. If we can get them to separate I can pick them off.
[ Like hunting pack animals. Jesus the peacemaker, Jesus the one who would rather be invisible than kill, who only went in to the outpost to save other people--
--save other people.
So he's talking so matter-of-fact about killing people because he's protecting someone other than himself. Three guesses who, first two don't count. ]
It'd be easy. They know a bike's out here now. Can't risk it.
[Once upon a time, Daryl would have cautioned against it. Thrown out how if they didn't show back up when they were supposed to, people would come looking. Which could draw more attention their way. But after the week or more he'd had in Sanctuary - he never was sure exactly how long it'd been even if it hadn't been that long in the scheme of things - killing a Savior any chance he got was always an option he'd risk. Especially when someone else was advocating it.
There was a coldness in his eyes as Jesus said the words Daryl wanted to hear. Like a measure of his compassion had curled up and died along the way and all he had to replace it was a sick need to wash his knife in the blood of anyone that he saw as a threat. Or his fists. He wouldn't mind painting his knuckles red, neither.]
Then we get the bike to the road, push it over to the other side where it's hidden from view, and come back to take 'em down. You head back this way, and I'll head for the car to take 'em from that side.
[ No, Jesus sees that in him. As much as he hates every one of them he doesn't want to encourage the coldness that's taken hold of Daryl to grow in him, to coil around his heart like choking vines: no, he makes a firm decision right then. ]
No.
[ It's abrupt and sharp and obvious in that he has no intention of hearing an argument. ]
No, you're going to stay with the bike. If I can't take them all down cleanly, they're not going to see you. [ They've very nearly reached the road and he hasn't stopped moving, talking as they go. He's not looking at him any more. ]
I'm going to give you my mask and coat and you're going to watch and listen. I need you as a trump card just in case, not out where we're too far separated if it goes bad.
[ He does pause finally at the edge of the asphalt to make sure they won't be seen. ]
[Daryl hissed the words out, anger flaring through him followed by pain and an edge of fear. The kind that made his body shake with a pent up need to get it out. The same kind of need that had driven him, uncontrolled, to bash Fat Joey's head in. The lack of control that made him feel like a caged animal all over again.]
[ Before he pushes the bike any further he turns sharply, both hands grasping at Daryl's face. It's a move that should probably be rough or angry or something--anything other than what it is, which is more like the cradling reserved for a loved one. ]
I need you to. Please. I know it's asking a lot but let me do this.
[ His stance is tense and almost hunched - he's not afraid of Daryl, but of what might happen to him if something happens. ]
[The hands on his face catch him off guard. There was a lot of Jesus' touching that Daryl let him get away with. Was used to. Didn't mind, really. But this was sudden and intrusive and it made him freeze up like a deer in headlights despite how soft and gentle it was. It set his heart beating double time and his breathing hitch before increasing like he was about to have a panic attack.
It also snapped him out of the growing haze of red, leaving a horrified pool of anxiety to churn his insides like he only just realized what he'd been thinking. What he'd been wanting to do. What kind of violence he'd been wanting to drown himself in.
Merle would have been so proud.
His eyes clamp shut, and he presses his lips together. Both tight, forcing him to breathe through his nose. He's not pulling away from Jesus, but he still needs the moment to calm the shudders that run through his body and make staying on his feet harder.
When he opens his eyes and finally pulls his head away, he does it slowly. Just lifting his chin and shaking it form one side to the other as he started to nod.]
You got ten minutes. Then I'm comin' after you.
[He starts pushing the bike again, his tone as firm as Paul's. Just needed to get it to the other side of the road and they could do this.]
[ He'd known it was a gamble and the initial reaction is one that Jesus had expected but he rides the moment out relentlessly, waiting for Daryl to come back to Earth. A part of him is desperate to show Daryl how much he really does care but he doesn't know how other than this. Holding onto him and waiting patiently. He can hear his own heart beating in his ears and feels like he'll be hearing the crunch of leaves every second.
(A different part wants to kiss him as proof. He hates himself a little bit for thinking of it now.)
He nods when Daryl speaks, going back to pushing the bike. ]
Ten minutes are plenty.
[ The trip across the road is fast enough, as is getting to a place where it's hidden from sight. Jesus takes off his coat and drapes it over the handlebars of the bike before handing over the mask he'd normally use to cover his face. Then he takes a second to shove his hair up under his hat entirely, taking a deep breath.
He only pauses a second, looking at Daryl with something indescribable crossing his face. Finally he rocks forward on his feet and barely, just barely, bumps their foreheads together. It's more a brush than anything and he's rocking back just after. ]
Thank you.
[ Then he's darting off again, fully intent on finishing before Daryl decides to follow him. ]
[Daryl does jerk back after the headbump, but it's a delayed reaction that happens after Jesus has disappeared from sight. Left him blinking and mentally blank because it was almost like he'd been kissed but just... not. Usually when Jesus thanked him and got touchy-feely, it was maybe a squeeze to his bicept. A hand resting lightly on his shoulder. A couple pats on his forearm. Not... not getting so close another inch would have had them sharing the same breath.
It was disorientating, to put it mildy.
And then the thought crossed Daryl's mind that it might have been why the prick did it. To make sure he didn't decide to 'forget' how long 10 minutes was and go after him early. Which was still rude as all get out, but made more sense than anything else that came to mind.]
Little shit...
[He muttered the words as he pulled the bandana up around his head. Even if he still had another seven before he could go after Jesus, he was going to be ready to do it.]
[ Oh my god this tag is so long I'm sorry I JUST DIDN'T WANT TO MAKE YOU BE LIKE "HE SAT AROUND WAITING IN ANNOYANCE AND WORRY" FOR FOUR TAGS.......... ]
[ In reality he's using it as a kind of grounding affectionate gesture. He's confident in himself as he always is but that doesn't mean it's well placed. He could very well die, which could get Daryl killed, which are both the opposite of what he wants. So he lets the touch keep him pressed down to Earth and focused. That it keeps Daryl from jumping the gun is a handy bonus.
Jesus moves silently across the road and back into the trees. He was never a tracker before the apocalypse but he's sure as hell learned some things and it's not like these folks are trying to be quiet anyway. He has a lot of cover like this. The first one he comes upon is one of the men trampling over something that may or may not be a path, but he's alone. Jesus holds his breath just long enough for him to have a clear path. In a single movement he's up against the man's back, one arm locking him in place while the other draws one of his knives across his throat - it's bloody and he struggles but it's quick and it's quiet. He doesn't think as it happens, just waits until the quiet gurgles and shudders stop before lowering the body to the ground and jamming the knife through the temple too for good measure. Just like putting a walker down. That's all it is.
The other two, man and woman, are searching together. They're talking though, which means it's even easier for him to sneak up. Harder to get one of them alone, though. They're relatively close to the road and he tries to separate them but time is running short. As a last ditch effort he uses the old standby of tossing a rock in a helpful direction so it crashed through a bush. Cartoon shit. It works though, because the only man left goes to investigate while the woman stays behind. He kills her the same way too, but she manages to get out a yell first that calls for her partner and he has to move faster, jams the knife roughly in the put-down blow and tries to dart off but--
the pistol shot rings out and his body jerks forward slightly but it's only caught his shoulder - through and through and not even that bad. It's only through flesh so he'll be fine. But he knows the shot will alert Daryl who will come after him and probably think he's dead or something. Jesus takes off before this guy can shoot him again and leads him on a wild goose chase around the edge of the woods but soon enough they loop back onto the road and the prick's aiming for him again but he does a feinting move that lets him whip back and slam into him from the side, knocking the handgun away and out of reach as they both drop to the asphalt.
Daryl's probably already barreling their way even as they're grappling on the ground, he's sure. He's trying to go for his knife to finish the job when he feels a searing pain: there's a thumb jamming into the wound in his shoulder and he lets out an agonized sound from it, entire arm jerking in a pain response. Okay. Okay. Breathe. He has his knife and then he doesn't have his knife but the gun is there. Jesus hates guns but he gets his hand on it first and it's not like he has time to think so he just points and shoots. It's point blank - he's not going to have to put this guy down for sure, but it's all he can do to roll the body off of him so he can lay on the bloody ground and stare up at the sky. Without any immediate danger he's flopped boneless, one hand still clutching the gun while the other covers his face with a hand. Clearly alive at least, from the fact he eventually drops the damn thing and covers his face with the other hand too.
[The shout followed almost immediately by the gunshot had Daryl moving out of his hiding spot and around to the car on the side he was on. He couldn't see anyone immediately, no action there. He was darting out to hide behind the car and try and get a better look around the side for any sign of Jesus or the assholes shooting at him when the second shot rang out further up the road. He didn't bother hiding at that point, just kept his knife at the ready and rand towards the sound.
He spots Jesus and the other man wresting soon enough but he can't quite get there before the man's brains decorate the road and Paul's chest. When the body slides away, Jesus is moving enough to let him know he's fine - well, fine enough - but Daryl still doesn't know if there's anyone else out there. He can only see one body.
He jogs over and offers a hand. Notably, he is not wearing Jesus' coat. But since he's still in Jesus' shirt he doesn't much look like himself until he pulls the bandana down.]
Where's the others?
[Anything else could be dealt with once he knew if the threat was still ongoing.]
[ Ah, there he is. Yeah, okay, good timing then. All the murdering done. He instinctively moves to grip Daryl's offered hand but picks the wrong arm out of habit, grimacing at the thought of being pulled up by it and stopping with that nonsense immediately before using his other arm to grasp Daryl's hand and brace himself up to a sitting position. Not to his feet, though. ]
Dead. They're dead. [ It's breathed out of him a little hoarse and he somehow manages a smile although it's a little strained. ] Told you ten minutes was plenty. Just had a little delay in the middle.
[ To get shot. It's actually kind of unclear that he was hit though, what with the gore he's splattered in. Probably his reactions to moving tell that story clear enough. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
The pawn shop is... Jesus keeps a lookout for anything that might pop up outside until Daryl calls the all-clear at which time he slips inside and lets the door shut behind him. He looks through shelves while Daryl's at the cage. Nothing too big right away but even--there are a couple toys hanging out and he pops open the backs of them looking for batteries.
There are two sets and he pockets them: better than nothing so long as they work, and they're not popped with corrosive acid so it's a good bet they might so long as they're not totally dry.
When Daryl speaks he looks over at him and nods before poking through a few more things. ]
You ever get paranoid because things seem to be going too well?
[ He knocks on a wooden knife block (empty) as he speaks. Knock on wood, etc. ]
no subject
You didn't see no helicopter on the roof did you?
no subject
[ They probably should have brought bolt cutters. Next time. He's moving back through the aisles to get back toward the door as he speaks: at least they did bring their healthy senses of caution and paranoia. ]
Almost tempted to call it a day with these two, but I've always liked pressing my luck.
no subject
Nah. No pressing luck. This is good enough. We get a few samples from here, from the pharmacy, and we go. Organize a group from both settlements to come clean it out together in a few days.
[His tone had gone terse and eyes darted toward the ceiling. There was a reason he'd asked about the helicopter. Jesus was right, this did seem too good to be true and the last time they had a haul like that had been back at the prison. Just before everything fell apart.]
Grab what you want. Let's go.
no subject
We'll move quick then head back.
[ And it really is quick - he grabs a few more things from the shelves, anything halfway useful that won't take up much room. Then he's jerking his head toward the door. ]
I'll fill the rest of the bag at the pharmacy. Get the bike ready and I'll be back out in three minutes. Holler if anything happens, I'll do the same.
[ Businesslike. Not worried or anxious, but tight. ]
no subject
Got it.
[He answered, hurrying out of the store on Jesus' heels, then jogging over to his bike. His head was up and his eyes alert for any danger. The place was still quiet, but he didn't want do be caught unawares.
He got his haul into his saddlebag, then glanced back at the pawn shop. It was unlocked now. If someone else managed to find this place in the next couple days before they could clear it out, they'd have a huge haul. He didn't like leaving it 'unguarded'. Easy access. After a glance toward the Pharmacy, he ran back to the shop and pulled the outer gate down. At least he could make it look like it was closed up tight.]
no subject
He stops in the doorway before he leaves and considers the same thing. He can't lock the door again. Since there's a grate over the actual drug counter there's not one for the front doors, which is annoying.
He makes a split-second decision because one of the last things they need is for the dead to filter in aimlessly because the door swings open. One of the banks of shelves is loose so he carefully yanks it free. He might be small but he's stronger than he looks and it's not too difficult to drag it to cover the doorway. The scraping is kind of loud but if nothing was drawn by the bike earlier, well.
That done, he shut the door as well as he could and stepped back to where the bike had been left, adjusting the backpack on his shoulders. ]
no subject
About half-way there he noticed a reflection ahead of the, cresting over a couple hills in the distance. A car. Sunlight bouncing off it's windshield more than likely. That wasn't good. If it was one of the Savior's they'd have a problem. Daryl was still very much a wanted man.
He veered the bike off the road without saying anything and drove it into the woods that lined it. They were far enough out from where the car was that he could keep going and find an alternate route, or cut the engine and wait for them to pass.]
Car. About ten minutes out maybe. You wanna find another way back or play possum in the trees here for a bit?
no subject
When Daryl speaks his hold relaxes minutely and his answer comes immediately with a shake of his head. ]
You go further in and cut the engine. I'm going to see what's [ who's, more accurately ] coming by. Best to know what we're dealing with or hiding from.
[ His tone is firm but not quite sharp: still, it brokers no argument. He's perfectly ready to swing off the bike and dart off as he speaks. He's just giving it a second. ] If they're ten minutes out, then give me fifteen. Out to the road, wait for them, coming back in. I'll find you when I come back.
no subject
Give me the bag.
[He held his arm out for it and met Jesus' gaze with a stern, but worried look.
Little shit better come back safe.]
no subject
I'm coming back. But if, if I don't come back in the time I said I would, you leave. You get out of here. I'll get back. Don't come after me.
[ He lingers like that a moment purposeful and sharp before he lets go. Then he's gone, darting off through the trees. With any luck his warning won't have to mean anything. ]
no subject
Daryl guided the bike through the trees for about three minutes and then cut the engine. The backpack got secured on his shoulders and he had to take a few deep breaths to calm his nerves as he counted off the seconds. He didn't really need to manually count them. Life on the road between the farm and the prison had pretty much trained everyone on an internal clock without needing to look at a watch. But it gave him something to do that wasn't worry.
Three minutes became five. Five became ten. Then he started walking the bike out toward the street, keeping his ears open for any odd sounds. Like another engine or a couple people trampling through the woods to look for him.]
no subject
slinks back further out of sight instinctively. He recognizes the people in the car - two men and a woman. All of them have been to Hilltop at least once. Saviors--they're driving slow enough he holds his breath like they can hear it, heartbeat pounding in his ears. Then the car stops. He's invisible from the road, he knows he is, but his blood runs cold anyway. They're far enough away from him that when the woman gets out and looks at the edge of the road where it peters off into dirt he realizes that it's the tracks.
It's the fucking trail the bike left in their retreat.
Right. Okay. Well, they need to bail. So yeah, there might be some trampling. Jesus is quicker and quieter and knows where to go and now that Daryl is walking the bike it's less likely to leave discernible traces. He doesn't stop moving until he can see Daryl, see the bike. Fourteen minutes and forty-nine seconds. ]
Daryl.
[ It's a barely audible hiss and it's not clear where he is until he just is. Visible, whole, but worried and tight. ]
Saviors. Coming this way but slow.
no subject
Daryl refrains from cursing aloud, but only to keep as much silence around them as he could. He doesn't stop walking the bike, either. But he knows they need to get back to the road so they could get out of there.]
Help me push.
[It was an order and Daryl jerked his head to the other side of the bike as he shrugged off the backpack. If he was going to drive, Jesus had to be the one wearing it. And as much as it was annoying passing it back and forth, he wasn't about to let someone else drive his bike if he didn't have to.]
We get to the road, we push the bike down the next hill, let it coast so there's no noise, and hope there's a turn off we can take to throw 'em off.
no subject
Three of them. If we can get them to separate I can pick them off.
[ Like hunting pack animals. Jesus the peacemaker, Jesus the one who would rather be invisible than kill, who only went in to the outpost to save other people--
--save other people.
So he's talking so matter-of-fact about killing people because he's protecting someone other than himself. Three guesses who, first two don't count. ]
It'd be easy. They know a bike's out here now. Can't risk it.
no subject
There was a coldness in his eyes as Jesus said the words Daryl wanted to hear. Like a measure of his compassion had curled up and died along the way and all he had to replace it was a sick need to wash his knife in the blood of anyone that he saw as a threat. Or his fists. He wouldn't mind painting his knuckles red, neither.]
Then we get the bike to the road, push it over to the other side where it's hidden from view, and come back to take 'em down. You head back this way, and I'll head for the car to take 'em from that side.
no subject
No.
[ It's abrupt and sharp and obvious in that he has no intention of hearing an argument. ]
No, you're going to stay with the bike. If I can't take them all down cleanly, they're not going to see you. [ They've very nearly reached the road and he hasn't stopped moving, talking as they go. He's not looking at him any more. ]
I'm going to give you my mask and coat and you're going to watch and listen. I need you as a trump card just in case, not out where we're too far separated if it goes bad.
[ He does pause finally at the edge of the asphalt to make sure they won't be seen. ]
no subject
[Daryl hissed the words out, anger flaring through him followed by pain and an edge of fear. The kind that made his body shake with a pent up need to get it out. The same kind of need that had driven him, uncontrolled, to bash Fat Joey's head in. The lack of control that made him feel like a caged animal all over again.]
no subject
[ Before he pushes the bike any further he turns sharply, both hands grasping at Daryl's face. It's a move that should probably be rough or angry or something--anything other than what it is, which is more like the cradling reserved for a loved one. ]
I need you to. Please. I know it's asking a lot but let me do this.
[ His stance is tense and almost hunched - he's not afraid of Daryl, but of what might happen to him if something happens. ]
no subject
It also snapped him out of the growing haze of red, leaving a horrified pool of anxiety to churn his insides like he only just realized what he'd been thinking. What he'd been wanting to do. What kind of violence he'd been wanting to drown himself in.
Merle would have been so proud.
His eyes clamp shut, and he presses his lips together. Both tight, forcing him to breathe through his nose. He's not pulling away from Jesus, but he still needs the moment to calm the shudders that run through his body and make staying on his feet harder.
When he opens his eyes and finally pulls his head away, he does it slowly. Just lifting his chin and shaking it form one side to the other as he started to nod.]
You got ten minutes. Then I'm comin' after you.
[He starts pushing the bike again, his tone as firm as Paul's. Just needed to get it to the other side of the road and they could do this.]
no subject
(A different part wants to kiss him as proof. He hates himself a little bit for thinking of it now.)
He nods when Daryl speaks, going back to pushing the bike. ]
Ten minutes are plenty.
[ The trip across the road is fast enough, as is getting to a place where it's hidden from sight. Jesus takes off his coat and drapes it over the handlebars of the bike before handing over the mask he'd normally use to cover his face. Then he takes a second to shove his hair up under his hat entirely, taking a deep breath.
He only pauses a second, looking at Daryl with something indescribable crossing his face. Finally he rocks forward on his feet and barely, just barely, bumps their foreheads together. It's more a brush than anything and he's rocking back just after. ]
Thank you.
[ Then he's darting off again, fully intent on finishing before Daryl decides to follow him. ]
no subject
It was disorientating, to put it mildy.
And then the thought crossed Daryl's mind that it might have been why the prick did it. To make sure he didn't decide to 'forget' how long 10 minutes was and go after him early. Which was still rude as all get out, but made more sense than anything else that came to mind.]
Little shit...
[He muttered the words as he pulled the bandana up around his head. Even if he still had another seven before he could go after Jesus, he was going to be ready to do it.]
no subject
[ In reality he's using it as a kind of grounding affectionate gesture. He's confident in himself as he always is but that doesn't mean it's well placed. He could very well die, which could get Daryl killed, which are both the opposite of what he wants. So he lets the touch keep him pressed down to Earth and focused. That it keeps Daryl from jumping the gun is a handy bonus.
Jesus moves silently across the road and back into the trees. He was never a tracker before the apocalypse but he's sure as hell learned some things and it's not like these folks are trying to be quiet anyway. He has a lot of cover like this. The first one he comes upon is one of the men trampling over something that may or may not be a path, but he's alone. Jesus holds his breath just long enough for him to have a clear path. In a single movement he's up against the man's back, one arm locking him in place while the other draws one of his knives across his throat - it's bloody and he struggles but it's quick and it's quiet. He doesn't think as it happens, just waits until the quiet gurgles and shudders stop before lowering the body to the ground and jamming the knife through the temple too for good measure. Just like putting a walker down. That's all it is.
The other two, man and woman, are searching together. They're talking though, which means it's even easier for him to sneak up. Harder to get one of them alone, though. They're relatively close to the road and he tries to separate them but time is running short. As a last ditch effort he uses the old standby of tossing a rock in a helpful direction so it crashed through a bush. Cartoon shit. It works though, because the only man left goes to investigate while the woman stays behind. He kills her the same way too, but she manages to get out a yell first that calls for her partner and he has to move faster, jams the knife roughly in the put-down blow and tries to dart off but--
the pistol shot rings out and his body jerks forward slightly but it's only caught his shoulder - through and through and not even that bad. It's only through flesh so he'll be fine. But he knows the shot will alert Daryl who will come after him and probably think he's dead or something. Jesus takes off before this guy can shoot him again and leads him on a wild goose chase around the edge of the woods but soon enough they loop back onto the road and the prick's aiming for him again but he does a feinting move that lets him whip back and slam into him from the side, knocking the handgun away and out of reach as they both drop to the asphalt.
Daryl's probably already barreling their way even as they're grappling on the ground, he's sure. He's trying to go for his knife to finish the job when he feels a searing pain: there's a thumb jamming into the wound in his shoulder and he lets out an agonized sound from it, entire arm jerking in a pain response. Okay. Okay. Breathe. He has his knife and then he doesn't have his knife but the gun is there. Jesus hates guns but he gets his hand on it first and it's not like he has time to think so he just points and shoots. It's point blank - he's not going to have to put this guy down for sure, but it's all he can do to roll the body off of him so he can lay on the bloody ground and stare up at the sky. Without any immediate danger he's flopped boneless, one hand still clutching the gun while the other covers his face with a hand. Clearly alive at least, from the fact he eventually drops the damn thing and covers his face with the other hand too.
Man, his shoulder really hurts. ]
shhhI love it, moves the plot along
He spots Jesus and the other man wresting soon enough but he can't quite get there before the man's brains decorate the road and Paul's chest. When the body slides away, Jesus is moving enough to let him know he's fine - well, fine enough - but Daryl still doesn't know if there's anyone else out there. He can only see one body.
He jogs over and offers a hand. Notably, he is not wearing Jesus' coat. But since he's still in Jesus' shirt he doesn't much look like himself until he pulls the bandana down.]
Where's the others?
[Anything else could be dealt with once he knew if the threat was still ongoing.]
8')
Dead. They're dead. [ It's breathed out of him a little hoarse and he somehow manages a smile although it's a little strained. ] Told you ten minutes was plenty. Just had a little delay in the middle.
[ To get shot. It's actually kind of unclear that he was hit though, what with the gore he's splattered in. Probably his reactions to moving tell that story clear enough. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)