True Love Trilogy

Part 2 - Scars To Your Beautiful

"We got him."

Three simple words broke Jesus out of his thoughts and made him look across to the other watchtower; Eduardo had heard it too and was standing ready.

"We need a med team."

Jesus felt his heart drop to his stomach at the second transmission. He sighs and swallows thickly before radioing back "they'll be ready..."

~~

First, Daryl had been forced off the road by the hoard when it had changed direction; a loud siren had begun to wail and had directed it toward Daryl. There was nowhere for him to go except into a ditch and on the run; by the time the siren had stopped he was so far off track he couldn't double back without problems.

While trying to find somewhere to hold up, Daryl had then been attacked by a raid group who had been tracking the recon group since they had left the Hilltop; he had managed to down three of the six but not without his own injuries. The remaining three were taken care of by some lone walkers who were joining the hoard. Daryl had barely limped away and gotten to safety; he had managed to somehow scale the windmill and climb up into the top hatch, well out of the way. By the time the hoard had passed through it was dark and Daryl couldn't drag himself out of the mill.

Rosita had brought back word that the hoard that trailed Daryl was small compared to what everyone could hear in the distance and that yes, they needed to direct them off away.

Jesus had stood outside the medical bay waiting to be told he could go in. There had been Daryl's raised voice insisting he stayed away and then hushed exasperated whispers from those treating him. Eventually Jesus had gotten impatient and had simply walked in without an invite.

Daryl was sitting on a hospital bed in nothing but unbuttoned pants and boots; he was trying to leave.

"Daryl let them treat you..."

"Go!" He winced and grabbed his blood soaked shirt, quickly pulling it on.

"No..." Jesus shakes his head "if you're leaving here then I'll come with you but I'm not leaving you to heal alone."

"Just.. please!?" The normally tough man rubs his face and is clearly close to tears.

"I'll take care of him." Jesus nods to the team, ignoring Daryl's protests and walks over to help him stand. "That shirt is gonna need soaking."

Daryl attempts to push his boyfriend away but fails with his half-hearted attempt, deciding to just nod and stand silently.

It was Jesus doing all the talking as they took a slow walk back to their housing. There were moments when he could tell Daryl wanted to say something and Jesus gave him the time to speak but he always backed out and just shook his head.
Daryl was exhausted by the time he was sat on their bed and had no more fight left in him when Jesus began to undress him and ready a wash basin for a bed bath.

"Paul... please don't..." he whispered.

"Don't what baby?" He gently started to wash Daryl from head to toe; he didn't mind the grime but nobody should stay covered in blood - especially when you couldn't tell whose it was.

"You don't... I mean... I can do this."

Jesus chuckles "you can barely walk... let me look after you." His hands cupped Daryl's face gently.

He knew Daryl had bad scars, he had never seen them before now. Daryl had kept them hidden away from him, seemingly ashamed - though Jesus couldn't work out why.

"They don't bother me D..." he says softly. "...I know they bother you..."

"You don't know anything." He grumbles.