The Truth Will Out

Jesus thought he had left his past as Malcolm Bright buried in the remains of New York. He thought wrong.

Fandom: Prodigal Son, Walking Dead

Tags: crossover, Jesus was Malcolm Bright, pre-Daryl/Jesus/Rick, spoilers for up to episode 10 of Prodigal Son

Chapter 2

"I'm sure you guys have a few questions," Jesus said quietly from where he was curled up in the back seat of the car they had taken from Alexandria on this scouting mission that had gone sideways. At least they had found some supplies before all of that shit went down. He still had his father's blood splattered over his face but he was facing the window as trees blurred past them. He had a blanket draped over his shoulders to ward off shock when things finally hit him.

"Only if you want to talk about it," Rick said as he glanced up in the rearview mirror to check on Jesus while Daryl resisted the urge to do the same. He was curling and uncurling his hands from where they rested on his thighs.

"I honestly didn't think I would ever have to explain all of this again once the outbreak began," Jesus admitted softly as he rested his head against the window, feeling numb as the death of his father replayed in his mind over and over.

"You don't gotta tell us anything," Daryl grunted, he knew how much he hated talking about his past so he wasn't about to force Jesus to talk about his obviously horrific past.

"My real name isn't Paul Rovia, it's Malcolm Whitly until I legally changed it to Malcolm Bright. When the outbreak happened and I was alone… I became someone else, a survivor, a scout; I became who I am now." Jesus wet his lips before wincing at the tang of copper before he used a corner of the blanket to scrub his face clean of his father's blood the best he could. Rick and Daryl stayed quiet, they knew this much from the conversation Jesus had with his father before.

"You know…When I was a kid I adored him, I wanted to be just like him… That blinded me in a way, trusting him so completely until…" Jesus shook his head as he squeezed his eyes closed as flashes of the girl in the box appeared, of his father drugging him, of lost time.

"I went into my dad's workshop one night, I found, I saw… There was a girl in a box… I'm still not sure how much time passed between that, having my father drug me to forget and when I called the cops…That will never leave me, my father taunting me about that, having everyone tell me that the girl didn't exist, finding out she did…Fuck." Jesus clapped his hands to his face with a moan as his shoulders shook as all those emotions came rushing back from all those years ago.

It was a different life.

"Shit man," Daryl whispered to Rick quietly, trying not to twist around and stare at Jesus who was taking ragged breathes as he tried to calm down.

"You were just a kid, you did nothing wrong, you called the cops to save lives and I have no doubt you did," Rick said simply, he was remembering more and more about the Surgeon horrific case.

"Thanks, Rick," Jesus sighed as he closed his eyes.

"Fast forward a bunch of years, I became a profiler for the FBI and then one for the NYPD where I was forced to interact with my father again. That's when memories I had repressed began to surface and I began to chase them." Jesus moved his head off of the window and tugged the blanket tighter around his body as a shiver wracked his body even under all the layers he wore.

"It didn't turn out well, I got lost in that rabbit hole and it led to being kidnapped by a serial killer and all the fun stuff that goes with that. I was on so many medications and had night terrors every night that I barely got a few hours every night. When the outbreak hit and everything went to hell I honestly thought I would end up as a Walker, thought that without my meds I wouldn't make it a week. Knowing my father was dead did wonders to my mental health…Funny how that works." Jesus rushed through his explanation; leaning his head back with his eyes closed. He needed to focus on the now, focus on survival and not think about his past anymore.

"So now you know, what is gonna happen now?" Jesus now just sound exhausted from where he was curled up in the back seat.

"What do ya mean?" Rick felt confused, he was still trying to process everything he had just been told and a grunt coming from Daryl let Rick know that he was in the same boat.

"You're going to tell everyone, aren't you? You have to and then you're all going to vote along with Hilltop and I'll have 10 minutes to pack up and get out if I'm lucky." Jesus' voice was flat and defeated sounding like he had been through this many times before.

"That's bullshit," Daryl said fiercely, his stomach turning at the idea of banishing Jesus, of leaving him out there alone and trapped with the ghosts of his past.

"No one is gonna know unless you tell them. If they ask why we're late we just ran into some Walkers is all." Rick said firmly, also loathing the idea of leaving Jesus out to fend for himself until his luck ran out.

"We won't even bring it up again unless ya want ta," Daryl promised and Rick grunted his agreement.

"…Thank you, just… Thank you." Jesus sounded stunned as he shifted so he could curl up properly in the back seat, unknown tension lifting from his shoulders.

"Thank ya for trusting us with that Jesus," Rick countered and his lips quirked up when a small smile appeared on Jesus' lips at the obvious use of his chosen name before his eyes slid shut as he gave in to sleep, clearly exhausted from the events of the day.

"What a shit show," Daryl exhaled as he lit up a cigarette once he was sure Jesus was fast asleep.

"You're telling me, fuck Daryl. I was briefed on his father back in the day, it was sick and twisted what he did to those people. It doesn't sound like he physically hurt Jesus, but fuck the mental and emotional damage he caused." Rick shook his head and took a drag from the cigarette when offered, needing something at this moment in time.

"Don't matter now though, he's still that prick who stole our truck and then somehow made our worlds bigger than ever before," Daryl said as he exhaled the smoke through his nose, glancing back at Jesus who was still asleep.

"If he needs help we'll help, it's what family does right?" Rick side-eyed Daryl who lifted the cigarette back up to his lips, watching the motion before turning his attention back to the road.

"Damn right," Daryl grunted as the walls of Alexandria came into view. Rick whistled and Tara opened the gate with the familiar creaking of metal. Rick was just grateful it was still day, he hated unloading in the dark as he pulled into the usual place they parked this car.

"Jesus, hey, wake up we're back." Daryl twisted around in his seat and shook the longhaired man's knee, not stopping until Jesus' eyes flew open. His whole body was tense and his teeth gritted but he soon relaxed when wild eyes settled on Daryl and then Rick.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm awake." Jesus scrubbed his face with his hands before he opened the door and clamoured out as both Rick and Daryl followed suit.

"Hey, we got this. Head to my place and take a shower ya?" Daryl grunted as Jesus swayed a bit on his feet as he went to help unload the car.

"…Yeah, okay, thank you, guys… Thanks." Jesus sent them a small smile before he turned on his heels and headed towards Daryl's house in Alexandria, where he usually crashed when visiting.

"Where's he going?" Denise asked curiously as she came to poke around what they found on their run.

"Ran into a herd of Walker's, it got messy and he wanted to take a shower to get rid of the stench," Rick said easily as he picked up a crate from the trunk, Daryl grunting his agreement.

"I feel that," Denise hummed as she took Rick for his word.

"We're gonna have to keep an eye on him, sounds like he was real messed up before all of this and seeing his father again and killing him may send him spiralling," Rick muttered to Daryl lowly when the two were alone, stacking the crates.

"No shit," Daryl grunted and Rick smirked he knew Daryl well enough to know what those words meant. Jesus would be in good hands with the two of them and they would be damned if they let Jesus fall prey to the ghosts of his past.