Small glimpse.

Some Walls Crash Down

Jesus studied Daryl's body language almost critically. He analyzed every single movement he made before he spoke. "So then, if you're not scared of anything.. What's keeping you from telling me what happened? Baby, you know they can't hurt you anymore... That they can't get to you, I won't let that happen that's for damn sure." Paul paused and took a deep breathe. "I'm not even meaning to be stupidly cheesy when I say this, but talking about it DOES help." he murmured softly, a quiet tone in his voice as he spoke. Almost trying to soothe Daryl's caged up animal like soul. Daryls usual squinted gaze lifted as he paused on his carving off the arrows before he stood up. He seemed to be having an inner battle within himself, like he was psyching himself out about merely talking about what all had happened to him and the abuse and torture it had put on his Mental state. He glanced down at Jesus, "Sure as hell ain't talkin here... Let's go to the trailer." his country twang just making his softer spoken voice for once all the more unusual. Daryl turned and began walking towards the direction of their trailer. Crossbow and arrows in tow, Paul was quick to follow. Once inside, Paul shut the door behind him and watched as daryl piled his items on the kitchen table... Such a gentleman. Paul then sat on the couch and motioned for daryl to sit next to him. Daryl did with hesitation, he sat down and dipped his head down to look at only the ground. He suddenly blurted out, "they had me locked in this Goddamn cell.. Dark and shit.. Playing this fuckin song over and over... All the time. They made sure I couldn't get no damn sleep. They starved me until I had no choice but to eat damn dog food sandwiches. They beat me senseless, those fuckers.. Ganged up on me, took all my clothes off and made me wear damn rags with letter A all over them..-" his voice held anger, but the shakiness of it gave away his true emotion. Sadness. Hurt. Fear. Paul nodded slightly listening to him, he very carefully looked at daryl, his soft blue eyes trying to comfort him." I'm sorry.. Daryl. You didn't deserve tha-" daryl had cut him off before he could even finish. "Ya I did." he snapped, dipping his head lower so his hair covered his face partially from Jesus's view. Daryl's eyes began to water... Something he wasn't used to. "it's my damn fault Glenn got killed.." his voice began to shake and tremble. It was obvious to Paul he fully and utterly blamed himself for what happened with Glenn. Paul immediately took Daryl Into his arms, pulling his body back so his head could rest on his chest as he tried to comfort the larger man. "No! Daryl Dixon, that was not your fault. Everyone's emotions were on edge that night. You didn't force Negan to hit Glenn. He did that on his own... Out of evil and cruel mess of his heart. You didn't force him to bash your friends head in.." Jesus tried explaining to him but by then shaky whimpers and cries were leaving Daryl's mouth as he shook with the amount of emotion filling his body.  " You sure as hell didn't deserve what the saviors and Negan did to YOU. Glenn loved and still loves you from the place he is now, daryl. I'm sure he'd be proud of you, and hate to see all the pain they caused you." daryl continued. To dry heave in Jesus's arms, his face buried in his chest. Paul had broke some barriers down off of the stone cold archer..