Chapter Text
Darryl couldn’t, and wouldn’t, sleep. The look on Grant’s face when he exited the corpse of the Chimera was seared into his brain, and he wondered if he would ever unsee it. If he would even get to see Grant again, period.
The breaking of the blood pact, the loss of Cern, his son slipping through his fingers again— it had all almost been enough to make him forget about Carol’s voicemail.
Almost.
Lately, Darryl had made sure he was the last to fall asleep each night, just in case something happened. What it would help, he didn’t know, but he had such little control over anything out here. At least he could do this.
As a result of his solitary vigil each night, he now knew what each dad sounded like nodding off and first thing after waking.
Glenn snored, rolled around, laughed sometimes while he slept. Ron curled into himself, silent and small, and Henry— Henry. His eyes fluttered in his sleep, mouthing words Darryl couldn’t make out, sometimes halves of incantations, sometimes whispered Spanish.
It was weirdly intimate, something he never thought he’d experience with anyone but his wife. At home, he slept like the dead.
Home. The thought was unbearable. He waited until he couldn’t take it anymore and quietly snuck out the van, moving into the tree line until he could still just see the Odyssey.
The call had gone through, but he wished it hadn’t. He’d hoped that once Carol heard his voice, it’d be different.
Maybe she’d remember things the way he did. Maybe he’d be able to man up for fucking once and tell her all the things he was afraid of, how scared he was of losing her, losing Grant again, losing control out here completely— but he hadn’t. What could he say?
A small, cruel part of him dared her to say it all to him on purpose.
He let her ramble through an apology, and when the line finally went quiet, he could only choke out a question.
“Did you mean it?”
Her silence was enough. No, it was too much, more than he could bear. Before thinking, he’d hung up. He wanted to rage, wanted to hurl the phone as far as he could into the depths of the forest, he wanted...he wanted. God.
He swung out, knuckles colliding with a tree. It felt good to hit something. Again. And again, not making a sound. Something cracked in his hand, and he finally stopped. Collapsed.
He stayed like that for a while, ignoring the sick throb of his fingers, making himself as small as he could.
He was leaving his body behind on the forest floor, rising outside of himself. He didn’t know long he’d been there, until he felt a hand touch his shoulder. He swung up wildly, returning to himself with a start.
“Geez Louise, Darryl!”
Henry shouted and ducked, avoiding the worst of the blow, but Darryl's fingers still connected with his ear. The touch sent a bolt of white hot pain through Darryl so strong he fell back again and wretched.
When he came back to himself a second time, he felt small circles being rubbed onto his shoulders. Henry was crouched beside him, looking on with dismay at Darryl’s state.
“Darryl, your hand…” For once, Henry had nothing to say. Darryl dared a look and felt his stomach turn again at the way his fingers bent out from his palm.
“Can I?” Henry said nervously. Darryl nodded. He turned and sat up, Henry taking his hand in both his own. “I’ll have to set them before I heal them,” he warned. “If it makes you feel better, I’m Red Cross first-aid certified back home.”
Of course he was. Darryl looked away and only said, “Do it fast.”
Wincing, Henry popped the fingers back into place. Darryl bit down on his cheek to stop a scream and breathed hard through his nose.
“That’s good, you did great,” Henry said gently. That made Darryl’s stomach drop in a different way. Henry was too intent on his task to notice.
He murmured “spirit” and the healing word of the day sent a cool wave through Darryl’s palm. The pain recoiled to a dullness he could ignore. What a mess.
“Thanks there, Henry,” he said, not ready to meet the other man’s gaze. “You should, uh, see the other guy.”
“Someone did this?!” Instant outrage from Henry. “Are they close, can we make a—”
Darryl gestured weakly at the nearby tree. He was ashamed to see his own blood glistening on its bark, but after a moment, all Henry said was, “I’m sure Erin’ll have a strong word for you the next time we see her.”
Darryl snorted, surprising himself, and shook his head. He still couldn’t meet Henry’s eye.
“I’m sorry to have snuck up on you,” the other man said. “And I’m not trying to violate any boundaries or anything, here, but I’ve got to admit, you’ve got me worried! I know it’s was a big day, with losing Grant and the blood oath and—”
“I missed a call earlier,” Darryl said, feebly gesturing with the Nokia. “Just wanted to check it.”
“Scam Likely or Carol?”
Before he knew what he was saying, Darryl blurted, “She wants a divorce. Carol doesn’t— she doesn't…”
To his horror, his voice cracked, tears brimming in his eyes. He stupidly wished he could put on his sunglasses. “First Grant, now this,” he choked out.”I can’t— I don’t know…” His breath was coming up short. "My family is gone, Henry, I’m losing everything.”
Henry let out a sharp exhale. “First things first, deep breath, ok? In through your nose, out through your mouth. I’ll do it with you.”
Henry took an exaggerated breath and Darryl followed. They breathed. Darryl just now realized that Henry was still holding his hand.
“I’m so sorry,” Henry finally said, voice soft as Darryl had ever heard it. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but I want to affirm to you that whatever you’re feeling right now is valid. More than valid. I know we’re just a ragtag team of dads, but we’re all here for you and ready to help. Whatever you need.”
Darryl finally looked up. Henry’s gaze fixed him to the spot, his green eyes misty in sympathy.
He often felt pinned by Henry’s eyes on him. He could brush off the feeling usually, telling himself it was just discomfort at the familiarity Henry took up with everyone he met.
Usually, but not now. Not with a missing kid and a wife who didn’t...who didn’t want...
“Whatever I need?” he breathed out, stomach swooping again.
“Of course, Darryl, anything.”
Before he could stop himself, Darryl leaned forward and kissed him. Henry’s mouth popped into an open ‘o’ of surprise, but Darryl only deepened the kiss, crushing the other man’s mouth with his own.
He remembered how it felt in the Lance’s office, for a ruse. This was something else entirely.
Henry only hesitated for a second, but then, mercifully, he kissed back, tongue slipping against Darryl’s, teeth grazing his lower lip, his mouth wet and hot and good. Darryl hadn’t kissed anyone in so long, and not like this in years, not ever, maybe, was there really anyone like Henry?
And too soon it was over. Henry pulled away. To his horror, Darryl whispered, “Please, please Henry.”
Henry’s pupils were blown wide, his mouth still hanging open, but as he looked back at him, his face turned soft. And worried.
Darryl couldn’t take it, couldn’t take his pity. Before the other man could say anything, he shot to his feet.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Stupid, stupid. Forget it.” He needed to move, be far, far away from him.
“Darryl,” Henry said, “It’s ok, really, but I just think right now, with you like this—”
“I’m fine. It’s fine. It won’t happen again.”
“Darryl—”
“Please don’t.” Damn himself to hell, his voice cracked. “I’m sorry, again. I’m going back to the van.”
He turned and wanted to run, but forced himself to take measured strides. The sun was just coming up, the guys would wake up soon. Another long day of driving ahead. He was already exhausted.
He couldn’t ignore Henry calling after him, his own favorite words.
“We’re going to talk about this later.”