[ Paul stands, still holding onto him - and once he's upright he keeps leaning into Daryl, squinting from the car to the body that's still laying in the road. The way he's resting against him might be a little more than absolutely necessary, but sue him. ]
Yeah, there's one that way. [ He nods off in the direction they'd come from. ] A gorge, that is. A while out past where we got to but not far. We clean up enough here and they won't be any the wiser. [ Then he focuses on the car again, frowning. ] Means we can take anything that's not overtly marked as being theirs. Supplies, all that. They weren't set up for a long trip but they'll still have something.
[ Even if they can't take guns with the Saviors' marks on them they can take bullets, food, water, whatever. It's not ideal but it's better than nothing. ] We should probably move quick, though.
[ There's a split-second where it looks like he might argue. Instead he nods and takes a step away toward where the bike is hidden. He's about to take another before he turns back, good hand lifting to touch Daryl's shoulder, a ghosting thing that's barely-there. He doesn't say anything, not be careful or even be safe, because they're always careful and there's no such thing as safe.
The touch says enough, anyway. ]
Yeah.
[ In any case he's gone after a moment, trailing carefully off to the bike to A: make sure everything's ready to go and B: actually do what he's told for once. He's favoring his shoulder a little but it's not bad. He'll live. ]
[Daryl forced himself to wait until Jesus was out of sight to swallow the air sticking in his throat. He knew that look. That touch. He'd never been given it but he'd seen it often enough in the way Glenn had looked at Maggie and Maggie had looked at Glenn. In the way Rick and Michonne looked at each other. The way he'd looked at Lori before things went sideways there. And in so many other gazes shared between those in his family that had found whatever they'd been missing in each other.
It was something Daryl had started to find in Jesus without even realizing it.
Something that would just hurt him more in the end.
He pushed those thoughts away and focused on the task at hand. Finding the bodies and dragging them back to the car. Going through their pockets. Searching out anything worth keeping that couldn't easily be tracked back to them. Nothing marked, nothing that stood out.
It took about a half hour all told. Mostly for the body moving. And when Daryl was getting himself behind the wheel to start moving the car, he'd almost convinced himself he'd just been seeing things in Jesus' eyes. Things that he might have wanted but knew weren't for him. Wasn't how the world worked.]
Alright, lead the way.
[He called out as he backed the car up to where the bike was, waiting for Paul to pull it out and drive it.]
[ Sometimes Paul wonders if he comes on too strong. Other times he wonders if he's not doing enough. But acclimating Daryl to touches like that, to quiet looks that mean more than they let on, is fine by him. Eventually, he knows, Daryl might return the sentiments. Easier to wait and keep waiting than to get a firm no, anyway.
It's difficult to wait patiently for Daryl to finish but he does anyway, keeping an eye out for anything. When nothing happens it's a relief - by the time Daryl's ready to go Paul's shoulder is stiffening a little toward something sore-but-still-usable but he ignores it, pulling the bike out and getting it started. From then on it's a matter of silent directions: gestures, pointing, exaggerated nods.
It's not long until they arrive at the edge of a ... well it's smaller than a canyon, bigger than a gully, but most importantly it's good enough to get the job done. As soon as he turns the bike off and gets back on his feet, he's taking a breath and waiting for Daryl to get out. ]
This is the best bet. Once it's down there, the plant life should cover it from sight unless you're really looking hard for it.
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Yeah, there's one that way. [ He nods off in the direction they'd come from. ] A gorge, that is. A while out past where we got to but not far. We clean up enough here and they won't be any the wiser. [ Then he focuses on the car again, frowning. ] Means we can take anything that's not overtly marked as being theirs. Supplies, all that. They weren't set up for a long trip but they'll still have something.
[ Even if they can't take guns with the Saviors' marks on them they can take bullets, food, water, whatever. It's not ideal but it's better than nothing. ] We should probably move quick, though.
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[This time he put on the 'that's an order' voice. Same as the one Paul had used on him before going off and playing hero and getting himself shot.]
You can play lookout. Just in case.
[And not be in immediate danger if another car did come their way.]
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The touch says enough, anyway. ]
Yeah.
[ In any case he's gone after a moment, trailing carefully off to the bike to A: make sure everything's ready to go and B: actually do what he's told for once. He's favoring his shoulder a little but it's not bad. He'll live. ]
no subject
It was something Daryl had started to find in Jesus without even realizing it.
Something that would just hurt him more in the end.
He pushed those thoughts away and focused on the task at hand. Finding the bodies and dragging them back to the car. Going through their pockets. Searching out anything worth keeping that couldn't easily be tracked back to them. Nothing marked, nothing that stood out.
It took about a half hour all told. Mostly for the body moving. And when Daryl was getting himself behind the wheel to start moving the car, he'd almost convinced himself he'd just been seeing things in Jesus' eyes. Things that he might have wanted but knew weren't for him. Wasn't how the world worked.]
Alright, lead the way.
[He called out as he backed the car up to where the bike was, waiting for Paul to pull it out and drive it.]
no subject
It's difficult to wait patiently for Daryl to finish but he does anyway, keeping an eye out for anything. When nothing happens it's a relief - by the time Daryl's ready to go Paul's shoulder is stiffening a little toward something sore-but-still-usable but he ignores it, pulling the bike out and getting it started. From then on it's a matter of silent directions: gestures, pointing, exaggerated nods.
It's not long until they arrive at the edge of a ... well it's smaller than a canyon, bigger than a gully, but most importantly it's good enough to get the job done. As soon as he turns the bike off and gets back on his feet, he's taking a breath and waiting for Daryl to get out. ]
This is the best bet. Once it's down there, the plant life should cover it from sight unless you're really looking hard for it.