oasislogs | On a stormy sea of moving emotion

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On a stormy sea of moving emotion

WHO: Daryl & Cas
WHERE: Warehouse, somewhere private
WHEN: Sat, Mar 19 (Day 38)
WARNINGS: awkwardness
SUMMARY: Daryl and Cas talk

Daryl had been taking a headcount over the last few days and with the arrival of two new people - that Leia woman and Maggie - he really needed to know their numbers and where everyone was. A few of them had gone missing, though. Not just Athena. But Peter and Gamora, that Alex kid. Maya. Finn he hadn't seen since before they got to the city. And he'd never seen the archer fellow Bucky and Steve had claimed to be around over a month ago when the first of them arrived. So he was going to put him on the list, too. Not counting Lexa or the two he knew she'd laid claim to, Daryl figured they had about thirteen, maybe fourteen in their group now. Fifteen at best. Not as much as they used to have, less than they should.

His mental tally of names and faces and known things they were capable of led him back to Castiel. Because if Daryl's accounting was anywhere near correct, he was the only one left that wasn't human. On top of being the only one with any talent at healing. That alone was enough to prompt him into seeking the other man out. It was a lot of responsibility, being the doctor, to ask him to shoulder. He couldn't just assume Cas would do it.

When Daryl found the other man, he cleared his throat to catch his attention, "Need to talk to you."

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Castiel had been aware of the group paring down, recently. Less people were less people to feed, less people to protect, less people to concern themselves with during a straight on attack. Of course, he hadn't been very good at people for a long time as it was; he knew how to run for himself, and at most he'd traveled with only two recently. The group was bigger than he knew what to do with.

But Daryl was still here, and Cas watched him flourish as a leader, even if it wasn't what he naturally craved. He was introverted, like Castiel himself, and Cas sensed that he'd much rather had passed it off to someone else, and spent more time with himself, whom he could trust.

He did what he needed to, though--the headcount, for example, which was crucial, was in his hands too. He tipped his head up as Daryl approached, then stood from where he was crouched, sorting small piles of fine twigs and papery bracken into bundles; instant firelighters to replace the ones in the empty survival packs. It wasn't the best use of his time, but then with everything gradually getting damper, a reliable way to start a fire was a crucial survival tool.

"Yes, of course." He brushed his hands off. "What do you need?"

"Maya's missing," he started off, wanting to get straight to the most pressing point. "She was the one doing a lot of the healing. Until we can find her, we're gonna need someone to take over seeing to folks. Most of us can do some basic field dressing, so it's not all gonna be on you, but... with out medicine or proper doctors, you're the only one that can deal with infections or broken bones."

Daryl started to bring his hand up to bite at his thumb, but stopped himself half-way there and straightened his shoulders. He was coming to Castiel as the leader of the group, he needed to act like he was in charge. It took effort, but he met Cas's eyes and held them, "You can say no, but you gotta be clear about it. We need to know who we're sending the hurt and sick to when it happens. Will you be our doctor?"

The moment Daryl began to speak, Castiel understood what he wanted. A healer. To tell the truth he hadn't exactly gone out of his way to heal anyone, since they'd arrived here, and he could have. Their bruises, their cuts; Beth, Padme, Bucky, he'd let them be out of respect to the process, but when Dean had been dying in that room, drowning in his own blood, he'd made an exception.

Now, he realized that it wasn't respectfulness that kept him from healing, but shame. Daryl tried to find his gaze, and Castiel tried to avoid it until there was no way to continue doing so, his eyebrows dipping as he lifted them, his head dipped almost submissively, as though he didn't really want to look up--which he didn't.

"There really isn't anyone else?"

Daryl held Castiel's gaze. It was more than a little disconcerting to see the man who had stood before him so confidently so many times act downright scared. He'd even offered the whole healing thing as one of the many things he could do when trying to convince Daryl to believe in what he was.

Hell if Daryl was going to let him be a coward now, after all of that shit.

He could have gone into how Beth and Maggie were sisters and their father had been a veterinarian. How they'd picked up a few things from him and could probably deal with stuff as bad as amputations just fine. Stitches and general wound cleaning. But the truth was that without access to proper medicines or scalpels and the like, none of them could treat injuries the way Castiel had claimed he could.

"Nope," Daryl answered, keeping it simple.

Castiel flinched under that gaze at the word, though he didn't lower his eyes the rest of the way. It wasn't that he couldn't do it, even that he shouldn't, it was the weight of his own cowardice, the fact that the last time he'd used his power to heal, he'd sucked the inferno right into his head.

He could do it, in the heat of the moment, but to be a healer--to be a healer again? It was symbolic of so much; a time he'd been innocent of it all, a time when he'd forgotten who he was, and could simply accept the goodness of what he was. He'd laid himself into all the mundanity he possibly could, to avoid being seen as anything but human and harmless by the others. There was certainly no reason why an angel should be collecting firewood, for example, but here he was. It felt good to do simple things.

But he'd offered, and now Daryl was holding him to it, demanding that he stepped up, and Castiel swallowed, finally wrenching his eyes away.

"Fine." His voice was a little ragged, surrendering to Daryl's short-lived persistence.

"Okay." Daryl had almost expected Castiel to refuse. He had left it open for the man to do so. And it was obviouse he didn't really want to. So the affirmative was him acknowledging that Cas's agreement was only because no one else could do it.

He lingered in the doorway before sucking in another breath and dropping his head. The next part wasn't him coming to Cas as the group's leader. It was more personal, "Wasn't the only think I needed to talk to you about."

Oh good. Because those one word conversations were going so well, otherwise. What choice did he have, really? What would he do? Leave someone suffering, bleeding out, dying for some reason or another, when he had the power to do something about it? Unlikely. He just wasn't that kind of person. Maybe he'd open up to Daryl about his reasons, some time, but it was a complex thing, and for now he let it be.

He tracked his eyes over Daryl once more, then brushed himself off once more, stepping closer.

"Let's take a walk, then."

He leaned back into the doorframe to make room for Castiel to take point. Since he was the one wanting to walk, he could be the one doing the leading.

Daryl didn't start talking right away. Waited until they'd been moving for a bit and he had time to glance around the halls, make sure they were relatively alone, "Maggie arrived today. Another woman, too, but Maggie's the one I want to talk to you about. She's Beth's sister."

Maggie, okay. The way that Daryl was speaking, though, it made it seem as though there was a problem with other people arriving. Maybe it was just Maggie herself. Or maybe Daryl's problem was that she was supposedly a hallucination as well. He stepped past him, casting a suspicious look back toward him, squinting.

"Is she dead as well?"

"What? No," Daryl's head came up and he squinted hard at Castiel in confusion. He snorted a second later and turned his head away in a scoff. "Maggie's safe. Was safe. No she..."

He sucked in another breath, still not sure how to approach this, "She uh... she's a believer."

Well. It was a reasonable suggestion, right? Daryl's uncertainty, and his mention of Beth. Still, he was relieved to hear the answer...for all of a few seconds, and then Daryl's concern finally made sense. He stopped at the foot of the stairs up to the next floor, resting his hand on the banister as he turned to look back toward the other man.

"If you want me to conceal what I am from her, I'd like to point out that it didn't work so well on you."

"Wasn't gonna," he murmured, thumb finally finding it's way to his mouth. Which was true. But Castiel's statement did hit pretty close to what Daryl was going to ask him.

He cleared his throat again and ducked his head, "Was gonna ask you not tell her God ain't listening."

Castiel waited until the question, before he stepped ahead, leading the way up to the next floor as he mused reasonably over his answer. When he reached the next floor up, he kept his eyes up, still leading the way along the outer wall.

"I didn't say that God isn't listening; for all I know he might be. I said that he doesn't answer: that we're alone with our troubles, whatever they may be."

He paused.

"Is this the moment where it would be pertinent to mention that I can hear you, when you pray?"

Not listening, not answering... same difference as far as Daryl was concerned. What was the point of listening to someone pouring their hearts out to you if you did nothing with it? He just didn't want Maggie knowing all her praying did her a fat lot of no good when doing it had given her and her family some measure of comfort since things went to shit. And still did, to an extent.

"I don't pray," Daryl muttered. Which was mostly true...

"It doesn't have to be out loud."

Finally Castiel glanced toward him.

"But that's not why I mention it. I'll be able to hear her. I'd be able to hear Athena, too. Perhaps if I'd told her that before she disappeared..." He grimaced, shaking his head. It was no good now. "But I think that if she called I would hear her. If she was in need. It isn't as though there are a great many voices contending for my attention, here."

Daryl didn't meet Castiel's eyes because there had been that one time Daryl had sent a silent prayer Cas could keep Athena from trying to find him. When he found the walkers in the city.

"Ain't the point," he grumbled, shifting on his feet uncomfortably, though it was something to keep in mind for the future. "Just... if you're gonna keep this angel thing up, I don't want you... Hersel's dead. Beth was dead. Friends of ours... Maggie believes they moved on to a better place. Don't ruin that for her."

Daryl finally looked up again, forcing out a word that was difficult for him even in the best of times, "Please."

"Heaven is a real place, Daryl. I may have fallen out of favor with it, but that hardly means it's anything but what it is--a place of peace and comfort for the virtuous to spend eternity. Reality echoes the promise."

He stops walking, having picked a place along the walkway to do so, and stepping over to put his hands on the barrier, he turned to face Daryl once again.

"If your friend Maggie believes, my existence won't alter her faith. It's far stronger than I am--it has to be, to have survived what you've experienced and endured still." Castiel angles his shoulders toward Daryl. "And you? You must care very much for her, to be having this conversation with me. I can feel how uncomfortable it makes you."

Edited 2016-03-20 19:41 (UTC)

Daryl's head dropped again as he leaned back against the rail, arms crossed over his chest and feet crossed at the ankles. He wasn't going to deny he cared about Maggie. She was family. Same as Glenn. Same as Beth. Bringing it up as somehow significant seemed pointless. It wasn't like he wouldn't do the same for any of his people.

And of course it made him uncomfortable. He was all but saying he'd come to accept the man as a literal angel. That came with a lot of heavy baggage.

He shrugged, fiddled with his vest for a moment before straightening up. He turned so he was half-facing Castiel and half-facing the stairs they'd come up.

"Look... I ain't gonna say I believe in God. Or in heaven, or whatever else there is," Daryl said slowly as he raised his head to meet Castiel's gaze, "But I believe in you. And you being what you are, could do a lot more to shake her faith... or affirm it... than anything we been through. She's already gonna have to deal with seeing her sister again. I don't want the rest of it to be harder on her than it has to."

Edited 2016-03-20 20:05 (UTC)

Castiel was startled by that - and warmed. Daryl believing in him was a hell of a jump from where they'd been a month before. He looked at him for a few moments, before tipping his head, just a flicker of warmth coming into his expression for a moment.

"I'll make it as easy a revelation as I can," he agreed. His eyes hung on Daryl for a moment longer. "You should send her to me. I'll break it to her--"

It's the least he can do, even if he has no idea where he'll begin.

"--And anyone else who needs healing. I hesitated before, but I know that someone needs to do it. You were right to...to put the pressure on me the way you did."

He could send Maggie Castiel's way once he had his own discussion with her. And having a doctor, however non-traditional a doctor he was, would do them all some good. Knowing the rules, knowing what's what, always helped keep heads cool.

Daryl held Castiel's eyes for a few more seconds before he nodded again. His arms dropped and he turned away to head down the steps. He'd said his peace and had it met in kind. That was enough pushing himself for the day.

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On a stormy sea of moving emotion

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