For all my 'old' readers: just like I've said in Ressurection - this is the new fic, the season 4 fic. The first 10 chapters are taken/moved from Resu, so they're nothing new for you. The next brand new chapter of this series will be chapter 11 then, which I'm going to post later today. I hope you're not confused. For further explanation see the last chapter of the fic Ressurection. I explained it all there.

If there's any new readers: Hello! This is the fith part of my Walking Saints series. The first three are friendshippy between Connor and Daryl without Murphy. The fourth fic (Ressurection) got first hints of the shippy stuff, and this fifth fic (Absolution) WILL be shippy. Most of my readers know it already- I'm a sucker for plot fics. Long fics with more friendshipping and relationshipping (not as in together), so don't expect some hardcore shippy fic here. There's still gonna be some intimate scenes though, more than in Resu, since it took my Daryl quite some time to let someone in and he and Connor will still be stubborn. So if you wanna read steamy scenes 24/7 with them screwing around ten times a day, please go to AO3 (like me, lol). My stuff is going to be all slow build, awkward, messy, and I'm trying to be realistic, not sexy. It's all about frustration and anger management. And my beloved love/hate topic.

I think despite some of the shippy themes/topics/tension the friendship relationship still plays an important part, and I won't ever let that go because it's the one thing that made Salvy and Damni good. But. y'know. Shipper's gotta have some fun and I've been waiting two years to write a shippy Connaryl fic with -real- shippy scenes, so here we go. Hello Absu. I hope it's gonna be good.

New readers, I don't expect you to go back and read my entire series. I think you can still read each individual story if you want. It's just some missing backstory.

Resu was all my own material except some bit of telltale game material, it was a filler, but with this fic we're back to the Walking Dead series canon. More or less. There are some changes though, more and more with each fic. In my fic canon Andrea is still alive, the Governor and his baddies are dead, the group is in Woodbury rather than at the prison. And just like in Damni I'm going to change things again. Especially the things I didn't like about season 4. I'm going to integrate a bit of comic book story, some of my own material (a new 'enemy'), but all in all I'm going to stick to the basic plot and story progression of season 4.

Once again: friendly reminder that I'm German and do not have a beta. There will be some typos (no matter how many times I proof read each chapter), my grammar might be all over the place some time, but I think you can understand what I'm trying to say. Have fun, leave me your thoughts in reviews, I'm a sucker for those, and I hope you enjoy this fic as much as the previous ones, cos I did. And I'm superduper excited for this one! :D

Absolution

Chapter 1 - Crumbling Walls

Their return was both an amusing but also awkward one. Although the group would ask countless questions about why the hell Connor and Daryl had run off without them they still seemed to be incredibly happy about the fact that they were back. Rick gave his usual leader-ish speeches on how they shouldn't do that and how they should all stick together, but all of that soon got forgotten when the group got to meet Murphy.

Their reaction was beyond funny and entertaining for Connor, but embarrassing and annoying for both Daryl and Murphy. The first thing the group noticed was their freakish resemblance. Some admitted that they had never really believed Connor whenever he had told them that Murphy looked -exactly- like Daryl. Rick had seen the picture so he already knew, but they were still beyond mesmerized by their resemblance, a fact that both Daryl and Murphy continuously tried to deny. What really sent the both of them over the edge was that some of the Woodbury residents even thought -they- were twins, not Connor and Murphy.

Daryl decided that he hated the guy even more when he noticed how Murphy seemed to be getting along rather well with his group, because much in contrast to him he was just as sociable and easygoing as his brother Connor. The hunter was close to boiling whenever the younger MacManus would talk to Carol or Rick, feeling incredibly jealous and protective of them to even the point where he would start a conversation with Carol completely on his own, just to keep her all to himself and not lose -everyone- he cared about to this freaking clown.

The bigger problem was the fact that they finally had to break the news to everyone about the MacManus' twins' immunity, because there was no other way around explaining their scars and survival. Daryl certainly didn't like that the two outed themselves as 'freaks', because he had already seen what could happen around them as soon as people knew.

But it wasn't like anybody seemed to care about what he had to say or what he thought. Today it was all eyes on Murphy MacManus - miracle survivor of a headshot, bite and travel through the country on his own, only to be reunited with his formerly super-depressed twin brother, who was now laughing and almost beaming with joy.

It made Daryl want to puke.

It wasn't like he didn't grant Connor some happiness. Hell, even Murphy after he'd seen the kid cry back in the middle of nowhere. And he even granted the whole of Woodbury to be in ave over the MacManus twins, because right now they really needed to hear some good, positive stories of hope, judging from the -hopeless- situation they found themselves in because of the walker-invasion. But all that talk and chitchat about lost brothers just made him feel sick and he wanted out.

It wasn't like he wanted to be at the centre of attention instead. He'd always been the quiet one, the passive one, the stay out of everything one. He just didn't want to hear any of it any longer. It especially hurt to hear all the 'brother' talk because it kept reminding him of Merle, kept reminding him how lonely he really was now. And how funny that was, really. He was surrounded by living people, a community, good friends. And yet he had never felt so incredibly alone.

It hurt knowing that he could never trade places with Connor. Get Merle back instead of Murphy. Because no matter what, he knew that he was going to throw his best friend into that deep pit again, that deep pit of self-pity and self-destruction and pain. And no matter how much it hurt him himself, he'd still rather put others in front of himself.

Meaning that he'd rather let Connor have all the current fuzz than trade the whole thing with Merle's return. So all he could do was leave them to it, let them ask the MacManus twins about all kinds of shit and stories, he even let them hear all the latest Woodbury news and what was up with all the walkers. He knew he could get that information later, so he headed for his former apartment to be on his own and rest a bit.

The apartment he'd shared with Connor and he just knew that those times were over as well. He was back to the start. He had no one, Merle was gone, and Connor had pretty much everything. And as he made his way over to the door and looked at the crowd, he could see that the Irishman was watching him leave.

They managed to get Murphy an apartment of his own, now that they had more houses than residents in Woodbury. Although Connor felt a -bit- bad about it there was absolutely no way he -wasn't- going to share the room with his sibling. They'd done this sort of thing before the apocalypse, and he sure as hell was going to keep doing that now.

Even if it meant that he and Daryl would go separate ways in that regard. He knew that the hunter wasn't going to take it too well, because his jealousy was still more than obvious. But this was the painful truth, the truth that Daryl had already talked about.

Murphy always came first.

Connor was standing by the window, leaned against the wall. He looked at Murphy with a smile, really letting the sight of him sink in. His sibling was looking around the room, staring at the pictures on the wall and then slowly placing his jacket on the bed with a gentle sigh. It had been months since Murphy'd last slept in a proper bed, and that had been back in Augusta, with those dreadful people. But they were gone now, and if he could really trust Connor and Daryl then all those new people here weren't like that at all. He already liked their 'leader', Rick - the cop. And the Korean kid with is girlfriend and her family. They all had been pretty welcoming, maybe the whole thing had been a bit intimidating, but he was doing just fine.

After a moment of just looking around the room he headed for the bathroom to check it out, and just like back in Augusta he was surprised to find out that there really was electricity. The lights worked, which made him smirk a bit. He heard footsteps behind him and knew that Connor was walking up to him.

"Careful. Don't be straining our luck. We're only sapposed t'use it if we really have to" the older MacManus warned in regards to the lights, which made Murphy turn around and look at him. "Hmhm" he just answered and they just looked at each other, both pretty unsure how to handle the situation once again. It was different, because now they had time, because now it was quiet and not so dangerous anymore. They found themselves in a 'civilized' clean world now, much in contrast to all their previous running and fighting.

Because the whole staring at each other for so long was getting a bit awkward Murphy spoke up first and pointed at his brother's clothes.

"Ye should probably get that shit off of ye" he said and meant all the blood and dirt on Connor's jeans and shirt, an unpleasant reminder of what he had done to those strangers just a couple of hours ago. The older twin looked down on himself to get a better look at his shirt, rubbing the crusts with his thumb a bit and then nodding.

"Aye, good idea" he said and then looked out of the window while chewing on his lower lip for a moment.

"'s just…all my shit's still in the old apartment. Gotta get that first" he muttered and then looked at Murphy. "You okay with that?"

Murphy rolled his eyes with an annoyed growl.

"'m no fuckin five anymore, Connor" he reminded him and then walked over to the old cupboard to have a look inside.

"Right" Connor breathed out and then headed for the door.

He placed his hand on the door handle but then stopped for a moment, smiling gently and turning around to look at Murphy once more, who was his usual curious self and needed to put his hands on everything he found. "Murph" the older of the two called out and made his sibling turn around. Connor smiled even more, almost his past beaming smile because he was so incredibly happy to see his twin brother alive and with him. Murphy frowned when his sibling wouldn't say anything after that and just smiled at him for a while.

"What?"

I'm so happy you're alive, Connor thought but just smirked even more and shook his head.

"Nothin. Just, don't go anywhere, alright? We don't know if all the walls are still up."

"Yeah, yeah" the younger of the two just growled and turned around again to get back to checking out the apartment.
Since Connor knew that he was annoying his twin with his constant fussing over him he finally left him alone.

He just stood in front of the door for a while, unsure what to do. Everything was so weird all of a sudden, so different, so complicated. Just like before he suddenly felt sorry, because he knew that Daryl was all alone in there. It was kind of ironic, really. Last year the hunter had been all about getting rid of him, constantly telling him to fuck off and leave him alone.

But a lot had changed between them since then, and it was just very unpleasant and weird to know that all of that had been destroyed from one second to the next. Murphy was between them now. Whether he wanted it to be like that or not. It was impossible for him to choose or make it okay for the both of them.

He wanted to get back to his old self, his old life, meaning the being inseparable with Murphy, the going everywhere with him right by his side. But this wouldn't work with Daryl. Because he knew that the hunter hated his brother, because he knew that his friend wanted to have him all to himself.

Connor sighed and finally knocked on the door, waiting until he could hear footsteps on the other side. It didn't take too long and Daryl would open it, and he looked rather surprised by the visit. Connor nodded as if he was saying 'yeah I know' and then entered the apartment without invitation, having a look around to see if everything was still in place.

Awkward silence filled the room for a while as Connor stood right in the middle of the apartment, hands buried in the pockets of his bloody jeans. Daryl stayed by the door, folding his arms and then leaning against it to just look at his friend with a frown.

"What'd you want?" he muttered after a while and Connor snorted.

"Jesus, come on" he growled and turned around to look at Daryl.

"Don't act all cool 'n distant all of a sudden" he demanded with an angry frown.

Yeah, he understood that Daryl was a bit pissed because of Murphy, but he hated how his friend went back to the whole 'I don't need anyone and you annoy me' attitude from one second to the next. Daryl just frowned as well.

"'scuse me?"

"Yeah, you! Te fuck did you just leave from one second to the next? Everyone was welcoming us back and you went all fucking mop-face and left.
I thought we was a fuckin team?"

Daryl snorted and walked away from the door, to get to the bed where he kept his crossbow.

"You ain't got your retarded bro to fuss over or something? 'm busy."

Connor growled and rolled his eyes with a frustrated sigh.

"Just cut that shit out, man. Just cos Murph's back it doesn't mean I don't want us ta be friends anymore, alright? Yer fuckin jealousy and bitchy attitude's annoying the fuckin crap outta me. Ever since we found Murph ye've been acting like a fuckin girl."

Daryl snorted and grabbed his crossbow to sit down on the bed and start cleaning it.

"Yah wish" he just muttered, because right now he seriously just wanted to be left alone. It had taken him ages to get rid of Carol, who had visited him right away as soon as he had disappeared inside his apartment. He had been happy to see her first, just like he had been happy to see Connor on his doorstep, but for some reason his fucked up brain always went back to this slightly depressed and lonely state, that constant dull ache in his chest because everything about Woodbury reminded him of Merle, that this had been the place where he had found his brother just like Connor had found Murphy, only to lose him again. Just like he was losing Connor now.

The Irishman just snorted and shook his head. There was silence for a moment and Connor just looked at Daryl, who tried to keep himself busy with his crossbow.
The older of the two friends then sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"Where'd you put my shit? I need new clothes" he stated and Daryl kept himself busy with his weapon.

"Where yah left 'em" he answered casually and then blew some air at his crossbow to get rid of some dust. Connor got even more angry because he hadn't expected his visit to be -this- stupid. He just shook his head and walked over to the cupboard, where he had left the couple of shirts and jeans that they hadn't taken with them on their journey to Augusta. As soon as he was done getting his stuff he closed the cupboard and then glared at Daryl, who still wouldn't look at him.

"I wanna go get a couple 'a beers and celebrate with Murph later, ye wanna join us?" he asked, one last offer to make peace with his friend and stop him from moping, but Daryl just shook his head and kept working on his weapon.

"Nope" he simply said.

He would've joined if it had been just Connor who wanted to celebrate.
But since Murphy would be there as well he didn't exactly fancy watching the whole pathetic brotherly reunion bullshit.
Connor let out an angry huff and then headed for the door.

"Fine, have fun cryin in yer fuckin corner then" he growled and was ready to open the door, when Daryl suddenly called out.

"Leprechaun" he said and made Connor stop and turn around.

Both men looked at each other for a moment and then Daryl pointed at his friend with his arrow.

"Rick wants t'talk t'yah when you got the time. 's about the walkers."

Connor just looked at his friend, surprise and disappointment soon showing. He had expected Daryl to say something regarding their strained relationship or 'fights', had wanted him to say something to stop him from leaving, but all Daryl had to say was that Rick needed him. He just snorted and shook his head, only to finally open the door.

"Yeah, whatever" he growled and then left, slamming the door shut behind him.

Connor returned to their new apartment about half an hour later, because it had taken him way too long to find some alcohol and talk people into giving it to him for free. He was rather good at that, scrounging shit off people, and although they had only given him two bottles he was still more than happy with the result.

He really wanted to celebrate, try to recreate the old times, their old habits and rituals. It also was an apology. Connor had made up his mind, he would try anything to make Murphy as happy and comfortable as he possibly could, because he certainly owed his sibling after everything he had put him through.

Maybe it could come off as trying to buy him, buy his forgiveness but he didn't care, he just wanted to make Murphy happy. When he entered the apartment with the two bottles of alcohol and his fresh clothes in his hands he was actually surprised to see that his sibling was still there. He had expected Murphy to screw his orders, leave the apartment and walk around to battle his excitement and constant nervousness, but Murphy was still there.

Even better. His twin brother was napping.

Connor smiled and tried to close the door as quietly as possible, putting the bottles on the table to his right and then walking over to the bed to try and cover Murphy with a blanket. He really wasn't surprised to see his sibling asleep, now that he thought about it, considering what he had been through during the past two days.

Once again the sight of the terrible scar on his twin's forehead made Connor cringe and pull a face. It hurt seeing him like that, it made him feel guilty, but Murphy still looked peaceful in his sleep, so that certainly eased the pain a bit.

Connor even went so far and reached out to gently stroke his sibling's hair, a sign of affection that he had never dared to show with Daryl. Even in his sleep Murphy still flinched a bit, away from the touch, still traumatized from the injury that had been done to his head. Connor bit his lower lip and nodded gently, feeling guilty once again but trying not to feel too upset about it. He grabbed his fresh clothes instead and walked over to the bathroom, so he could take a shower and get all the grime off him like Murphy had requested.

He wouldn't spend too much time under the stream, because despite all the electricity and running water it was actually freezing cold. Connor had to smirk because of that, since it reminded him of their old life back in Boston, when he and Murphy had spent years complaining about how there was never any fuckin hot water. But despite the cold he still spent enough time washing all the dirt off him, watching the brownish-reddish liquid disappear down the drain.

Just like the many times before the shower also got his thinking process going. He thought about the countless things he needed to do now, everything he had never paid -too- much attention to because he had not cared before. But Murphy was back now, bringing so many of his character traits back with such a force that his mind was spinning with new ideas and tasks.

First of all - he needed to get Murphy checked by Milton. See if he was right, if he was ill, if he was injured and how his blood was doing after the infection. He then looked down on his own naked body, still noticing how skinny and fucked up he was with all his healing injuries, scars and scratches. He also needed to get a whole lot stronger for Murphy. So he could protect him better. And he needed to make Murphy stronger as well. Teach him all the stuff Daryl had taught him so his brother could survive better in case shit ever went wrong.

Then he needed to make sure this town was secure enough for them to stay here. Secure enough to keep Murphy safe. He probably needed to join a couple of more teams. Clean all the overrun walls and kill all the walkers. He was certain that this was the reason why Rick wanted to talk to him. Because he was pretty much the only one who could handle the situation in man-to-man combat without having to waste too much ammo.

After that he needed to join the supply runs. Get more food for his sibling, for his group. And he needed to ask Daryl to teach him even more about hunting and tracking. So they didn't have to rely on canned food only.

He needed to learn -a lot- to live up to this new old task as his brother's protector. He just couldn't lose him for a second time because of any of his mistakes or failures. Right after visiting Milton with Murphy and talking to Rick on his own he would get started with everything. The training, the learning, the getting stronger and better.

It wasn't like he hadn't cared about that prior Murphy's return. He'd been willing to learn all that before, too. Just not as eagerly. It hadn't been a necessity back then. He even had to admit now that he'd been fine with Daryl doing all that shit before, with Daryl looking after him most of the time and not the other way round. But all of this was over now. He had a new task.

Connor finally turned the cold water off and stepped out of the shower, drying his wet skin with a towel and then looking at himself in the mirror. He stared in the reflexion of his eyes for a good minute, demanding it. You'll look after him. No matter what. You're not gonna lose him again. A silent order, a silent promise he was determined to keep.

"We got ourselves a big problem" Rick stated as he and Connor made their way down the street, heading for one of the walls that separated their part of Woodbury from the other, abandoned part. Connor had a look around their town, the first one after their return. He could see all sorts of familiar faces around him. People who looked pretty worried though, worried and busy. Everyone was carrying weapons and all sorts of tools, a constant reminder that there was still much work to do. The Irishman finally turned his head to look at their leader, who looked just as worried and worked up.

"Lemme guess. Big piles of walkers on every single wall of ours" Connor answered and Rick nodded.

"Yeah. People start to worry about that. Some of them have already tried to leave. It's getting more and more dangerous each day. A couple of days ago one of the busses nearly toppled over. We had to install more support beams, keep all the walls standing" the policeman said and pointed at one of the busses. Connor finally noticed that they had not just put up extra beams, their town had also actually raised the walls since his and Daryl's departure. Now countless planks and metal cutouts had been added, with a couple of people still working on them and hammering away.

"Fuck, that sounds pretty serious" Connor noted and then turned around to take a look at the wall down the road.

"It is" Rick stated and then made his way over to one of the ladders, to get on top of the wall.

Connor followed him after a minute of examining the wall a little closer. Now that he was only a couple of inches away from it he also noticed that it was actually shaking. The groaning and humming of the walkers on the other side of the wall was almost deafening by now, deafening and beyond disturbing. The Irishman climbed up the ladder and nearly fell back down when he saw what was waiting for them on the other side. It was even worse than he would've thought. That wasn't just a group of walkers piling up on their wall - it was an actual herd. Rows upon rows of undead, shoving at each other, reaching out for them, trying to knock over the wall with mad, dead eyes.

"Fuck" Connor gasped in surprise and let the sight of it sink in. Rick nodded.

"Pretty much."

There was a long pause after that as Connor tried to make sense out of what he was seeing.
It didn't take long and Rick started talking again, worry showing in his voice.

"We tried to stab them at first. With long sticks that reached all the way down there. But we couldn't move the bodies. And soon new ones started to step on the corpses that were already lying there. The more often we stabbed them, the more corpses would pile up. Give them better access to the top of our walls. So we had to stop trying to pick them off. We couldn't risk the pile and create a ramp for them. Not to mention the smell…"

"Aye, yer telling me" Connor answered and buried his face in the crook of his arm because the stench of rotting flesh was really almost unbearable.

"This wall is pretty much lost. We're trying to keep the others clear, but it's getting harder each day because they keep coming. It's like they're going on a pilgrimage to our town, like it's the new Rome. See?" the cop asked and then pointed further ahead, behind the masses of walkers and towards the horizon where they could already see new staggering corpses that were making their way towards them.

"We don't know why they're doing that. If they can smell us. Hear us…if it's some sort of sixth sense, I don't know" Rick muttered and then rubbed the bridge of his nose. "But what I do know is that if they keep coming like that we might get surrounded sooner or later. They could either overrun us or starve us out, whatever they're gonna do, it's nothing good."

Connor sighed and scratched his chin.

"So…you want me t'go down there and pick them off from behind. Ta keep the corpses from piling up…" the Irishman concluded and Rick turned around to look back at Woodbury.

"We're sending out groups of people each day to try and get rid of the travellers before they manage to pile up as well, but yeah.
We still need your help with the ones by the walls."

Connor took another look at the massive herd, the big pile of work he would have to do.

"Maybe with Daryl, and now your brother. I assume he's immune, too?"

Connor snorted and turned around as well to look back at Woodbury. He folded his arms and shook his head.

"Daryl's not 'invisible' anymore. And I ain't sending Murph out there. Never. Not in a billion years" he answered and then swallowed.

"Nah, it's alright. Think I can handle that. Maybe fifty each day. Kill them, drag them away, burn them. Should give us clear walls in a couple 'a days."

Rick just looked at the Irishman with a worried frown.

"Are you sure? When I asked to see you to discuss our little problem I didn't exactly mean that you have to do this on your own..:"

"And I said I ain't taking anyone out there with me. Certainly not Daryl. Or me brother. 's too dangerous. I said I can handle it Rick" Connor interrupted their leader and then inspected the undead once more while rubbing his chin. "Just…let me figure it out and come up with a plan first, aye?"

Rick put both his hands on his hips and looked at his feed.

"If that's what you want…thanks."

Connor smirked and put a hand on the cop's shoulder.

"Don't mention it. That's what we're a group fer after all, aye? Besides, my way t'make up fer letting this whole mess happen in the first place. With our sudden absence and all" the Irishman said and then headed for the ladder to get back down, but Rick called after him once more. Connor froze and turned around to look at their leader, patiently waiting for Rick to go on.

"There's another reason why I wanted to talk to you" the former cop said and slowly approached Connor.
"Your letter said you were trying to get to Augusta. Milton told me you were looking for a lab there. To find a cure?"

The Irishman frowned a bit, because the mention of this city still made him feel slightly uneasy.

"Aye?" he still answered, curious to know what the man opposite him wanted to know about that.

Rick then raised his arm a bit to point at their town.

"You brought your brother back although he was supposed to be dead. That got me thinking. Have you found something back there? Doctors? Military? A cure?
Anything that could help us?"

Connor just looked at Rick for a while, unsure what to do or say. He was all about honesty most of the time, but he really didn't like talking about it. Of course they had found something. In fact, they had been really close to a cure, but he wasn't too sure if telling Rick about it was such a good idea. The former cop had changed a lot since he had gotten to know him. Just about a month ago he had been pretty much willing to hand over Michonne to torture and murder for the sake of stopping a possible war. He knew that Rick hadn't done it in the end, but that still didn't change anything about it. Who was there to say that their leader wouldn't do something like that again? For the sake of keeping this town safe, maybe even for the sake of mankind?

Finding a cure would mean that either he or Murphy would have to die. Murphy certainly wasn't going to die for this. Ever.
And he wouldn't sacrifice his own life because Murphy needed him. Because he needed to be alive to protect his brother.
So he decided to do the only thing he could.

Lie.

He shook his head and looked Rick right in the eye, to look convincing.

"No. Nothing. When he arrived in Augusta 't was pretty much a dead end. Thugs everywhere. No military. No lab. Some fella told us about a possible lab somewhere inside University Hospital, but that place was completely overrun. We tried our luck in Savannah, but nothing. All we found was a tiny group of survivors and Murph" he said, figuring that telling the truth but leaving out some details was better than lying.

Rick looked disappointed and Connor felt sorry about that, but that wouldn't change anything about the fact that he was just trying to protect Murphy's and his life.

Thou shalt not lie.

He heard the words of god, felt the ink of the Veritas tattoo on his finger burning.

Fuck you, he thought and mentally raised his middle finger towards the sky.
He knew he would have to repent for his sins later, but right now he didn't freaking care.

"But hey, maybe Milty can find something soon" the Irishman added, trying to cheer their leader up a bit.

It was more than obvious that all of his responsibility and all of their current problems with the walkers plus Lori's death was dragging Rick down.
The Irishman pointed behind himself, at their town.

"D'you…do you mind if I get started with the whole walker business tomorrow? I..kinda promised Murph we'd celebrate his return.
And I gotta get him checked, see if he's alright and everything…"

Rick nodded and looked in the general direction of their new apartment.

"Sure. Go ahead. Maybe we can all celebrate later tonight. After our town meeting."

Connor nodded and headed for the ladder with a smile on his face.

"Aye. Good idea" he answered and was already on his way down when Rick called his name a final time.
Just like before the Irishman froze on the spot, already half way down with only his head still above the wall.

"It makes us really happy to see that you got your brother back. After everything you've been through…" the former cop said and then looked down.

"We've been through…" he added and Connor knew what the man meant.

The death of his wife, his best friend, Daryl's brother and all the people they had lost during the past year.

"It's good to see that someone came back from the dead without turning into a flesh-eating, rotten corpse. We all needed that. A miracle. Hope…" Rick said and finally looked at the older MacManus again, who just listened and nodded after a moment. "Aye" Connor answered, joy and relief washing over him once more. It was like he could almost feel and see all the dark clouds above his head disappear and fade away. There was no more need to be depressed. Murphy was back. Murphy was alive. And Rick was right. Maybe he was the miracle they all needed. Maybe -they- were the miracle their group needed.

Destroy all that which is evil, so that which is good may flourish.
The Saints of South Boston.
On a mission from god.

The Irishman smiled even more and looked at their leader.

"Don't worry. Everything's gonna be fine, Rick. We're gonna set up a nice 'n safe place fer yer kids. Starting tamorrow."

Murphy woke up with a start, clearing his throat awkwardly and then turning on his back to rub his eyes with a yawn.
He'd been dreaming about some pretty weird stuff. Sheep of all things. That all the walkers weren't undead people, but undead sheep.

The Irishman shook his head with a gentle snort. His brain must have suffered through some seriously fucked up trauma to come up with shit like this. Or maybe Daryl's stupid comment about sheep and Ireland had made him come up with that nonsense. The younger MacManus shifted a bit more and then slowly sat up, still rubbing his eyes and then his forehead.

Just like every single time he woke up he could feel that intense pounding right behind the bone of his forehead, that really bad headache that made it hard to think or even see. The pain automatically reminded him of his brother, Connor. Now that they had started talking to each other again, and now that he was slowly letting his sibling back into his life he felt a bit sorry for that instant association. Headache - Connor. But he just couldn't help it. Connor had been the one to shoot him in the head, to inflict the pain in the first place.

He tried not to be angry but couldn't fight the urge. He cursed and hissed a bit and then searched the room, ready to channel the pain and anger by blaming Connor, but he was surprised to see that he was all alone inside this room.

No Connor. No Daryl.

Although he didn't want to Murphy felt slightly uneasy about it. He was all alone inside an apartment that belonged to a city he didn't know. He didn't know all the people around him. Some of them could be dangerous, just like those people in Boston, and just like back then he felt the immediate urge to flee. The younger MacManus moved towards the edge of the bed, slowly and carefully, as he tried to adjust to the pressure inside his head and blend it out. For a while he just sat on the bed, head slightly bowed as he opened and closed his eyes rhythmically. He did that a lot when he woke up in pain, to relax the muscles and adjust his sight.

He wondered where Connor was. Or how long he had slept. Connor had told him that he'd gone out to get all his clothes from his old apartment.
He didn't have a clue where that was and truth was that he didn't want to know. Realization slowly hit Murphy as he raised his head to look outside the window.

Connor was gone. He was on his own.

Just don't go anywhere, alright?

No Connor, no mother hen. No one who could treat him like a fucking five year old.

The pain was slowly fading, and Murphy had to smirk a bit.

Fuck if he stayed here. He was in a new town that was waiting to be explored. And this could be his last chance to do shit on his own without fucking Connor taking away his freedom all the time. Connor, who had told him about dvd players and electricity and people and hot water. He'd be stupid not to take this chance and check everything out.

Murphy got up and staggered and wavered a bit around, just like he always did after waking up. It took his abused brain a bit longer to adjust to new positions, but it wasn't like that would stop him. He staggered towards the door to open it with a determined pull, feeling more and more mischievous because of his great 'escape' plan. But then his day took a downturn.

The door was locked.

Of course.

Why would Connor do anything else but lock him up and keep him from 'danger'.

"Are ye fuckin serious, ye retard" Murphy muttered in disbelief and shook the door a bit more, but it wouldn't give in.

He then let go of it with an annoyed growl and turned around to see what he could find to pick the lock.

One of the many useful things Simmons had taught him. Murphy crossed himself and then looked at the ceiling.

"Sweet Mary Jesus, thanks Keith. Yer a fuckin saint" he murmured and then practically turned the whole apartment upside down until finally found the right tools to put his knowledge to use. And the lock was so easy, it was pretty ridiculous, really. But even with all that it was almost like he could hear Simmons yell at him for being 'so goddamned slow a walker could do that shit faster'.

Good old Keith. May he rest in peace.

"Hallelujah" Murphy cheered with a grin when the door opened with a tiny creak.

Truth be told, he was actually quite curious now. What all the fuss was about, why Connor would drag him all the way up here instead of staying in Savannah, and then lock him up on top of that. So he grabbed all of his few belongings and made his way downstairs with an excited smirk on his face.

Fine. Have fun cryin in yer corner then.

Connor had slammed the door shut a pretty long while ago, but those words were still ringing in his ears.
Daryl had put the crossbow away by now and lay on his bed, both his arms tugged underneath his head as he stared at the ceiling.

Although he could hear people talking outside he still noticed the eerie silence around him. It was too quiet. There was no guy with an terrible accent who couldn't keep his trap shut. He was all by himself, in this room. The hunter turned his head a bit and let his gaze wander. It was still the same room, everything was still in the same place but there were things missing. Connor had taken all of his stuff. 'Moved out'.

Daryl snorted and shook his head at the absurdity of it all. They weren't a freaking couple.
He couldn't care less if the Irish freak moved out and stopped sharing every single room, tent or car with him. Months of this bullshit.
Months of arguing about that.

"So what, we gotta share rooms again?"
"Looks like it. Town's not exactly that big. And I ain't really interested in having anyone sleep alone here any time soon. Not with all these shady fucks out there."
"Yah gonna take the couch. End of discussion."

"I can't fucking sleep in this cell. I didn't break out of te Hoag fer nothing."
"What the fuck. Yah ain't sleeping here."
"Fuck you! And I said I ain't sleeping in a cell."
"If yer ass ain't back in yer cell by tomorrow morning when everybody gets up then I swear 'm gonna shove yah down these stairs so you break your neck"

"So what about ye? Top? Bottom?"
"I ain't sleeping in no cell. Especially not with you. I ain't no fag"

" You want me ta get our stuff? We moving in as well?"
"Guess so. But yah get yer stupid ass away from me. There's enough rooms in there."

"Why don't yah just fuck off already? It's not like yah care about that girl and if you believe she ain't alive anyway yah might as well just leave me the fuck be!"
"Yer right, I don't think that girl's still alive, but I care about ye. Can't have you wandering around in the woods alone."

"Connor, you stay with Daryl."
"What? No freakin way! Ain't gonna let this nutjob anywhere near me."
"We can't have him sleep outside."
"Why would I care, he can sleep in the RV on the floor."
"We can't have three people in the RV when you've got a big tent for yourself."
"There's no way he's gonna get his stupid ass in my tent."

He finally had what he wanted.
He couldn't care less if the Irish freak moved out.

No.

He shouldn't care. But he did. A lot.

He'd thought that after months of trying to shove Connor away and get some space between them he would welcome it. To have his own place, his own tent, cell, bed or whatever was there. He'd thought it would be good that he didn't have to share anything with anyone anymore. That no one was there to annoy the crap out of him with all his stupid talk, with all his stupid demands and all his cheesy trying to cheer him up after Merle's death.

But now that Connor was finally listening to his one year of pushing away he had to realize that the opposite was true.
He didn't welcome it. It wasn't good at all. There was too much space, too much silence, too much…

Loneliness. He was lonely without Connor.

Daryl frowned angrily and then turned around with a growl to face the wall, not the door. No more hoping for it to open up and reveal the Irishman. He wasn't a freaking teenager, he wasn't a freaking girl. He was Daryl Dixon, and he certainly had balls and yes, they were still attached. They weren't a freaking couple. So Connor moving out was actually a good thing. Everything else had been too weird, too close for two people who were just friends like them.

There he had it. Everything he'd wanted ever since the farm. Peace. Silence. No more feelings bullshit. No more acting like a freaking girl.
Damn right. Fucking Connor had moved out. Given him more space. Fuck yeah.

Fucking Connor had moved out.
Moved out. Left him alone. In this room that was too fucking big.

"Fuck" Daryl cursed and turned on his back abruptly, only to wince because his broken rip hurt.
He still lifted up his arm a bit so he could force it back down and hit the mattress hard.

The guy didn't get to just leave like that. On his own. Make the decision himself.
Just like he hadn't been allowed to kill himself, die from the infection, leave the prison or get himself murdered by some freaky lab rats in Augusta.

He was the one calling the shots in their 'relationship'. He wasn't the girl. Freaking Connor was with all his whiny crying bullshit for the past couple of months. And he certainly wouldn't lose the guy to another freaking leprechaun, to this annoying little shit who had forced himself into their business like that. Connor didn't get to leave whenever he wanted. And Murphy didn't deserve to get his brother back after all the shit he'd put him through.

Daryl sat up with an angry look on his face and prepared himself to go back outside.
He'd made up his mind. He wasn't going to back off after everything.

So these two wanted to celebrate Murphy's 'miraculous' return. And Connor wanted him there.
So damn right he was going to pay them a visit and let them know that no one put him in a freaking corner after using him as a lookalike puppet for a year.

I know he's gone. But you look like him. Just let me keep pretending yer Murphy. Please.

Connor had used him for more than a year. And now that he had Murphy back, the fucker really thought he could just move out like that.
He remembered what Merle had told him last year, when he'd been about to bite the dust after falling off that horse.

One of these days, they're going to scrape you off their heels like you was dog shit.

There was no way he was gonna let that happen. He was going to make that asshole understand that he owed him some respect.

Connor was walking down main street, completely lost in thoughts over his possible plan on how he could possibly get rid of all the walkers outside. He even came up with all sorts of things and imagined one scenario where he would take some rope , let himself down with it and start slaying all the walkers from up top. Swaying around like some cool cowboy. Oh the images. They made him grin. But that soon vanished again.

Maybe he was a bit pissed at Rick by now, because it had dawned on him that this was just another one of Rick's countless attempts to use his immunity for his purposes. Like back inside the prison, during their 'war' or whatever. He understood why their leader was doing it, because he happened to pretty much be the only one who could do this sort of work, but that still didn't mean that he liked it. Liked being used. But still. This town needed his help. And he needed this town to keep Murphy safe.

Just thinking about Murphy put that slight smile back on Connor's face and made him look up. He wondered how his twin was doing right now. If he was still asleep or awake by now. Connor figured that maybe he needed to visit Milton first, to make sure he was available. In case Murphy was already awake and ready to get checked. The older MacManus was trying to figure out whether he should tell Milton about Augusta when someone suddenly grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him to the right, away from the street, into an alley between two houses.

"Jesus!" the Irishman exclaimed and instinctively reached for his knife but didn't get to do so, because right then a hand grabbed his wrist and slammed it against the wall behind him, scraping his knuckles and making him curse once more. "Ah, fuck!" he hissed and then glared at his attacker in surprise, only to relax when he saw that it was Daryl. For a moment both men just looked at each other, both angry and Connor confused on top of that.

"The fuck's wrong with ye?" the Irishman complained and then struggled long enough to free himself a bit. Daryl continued to glare at him.

"Just wanted t'make myself clear. You…" he said and buried his finger hard in Connor's shoulder, right where the healed bite wound was that caused the Irishman to wince. "…ain't putting me in no corner like that, yah hear me" the hunter said and was actually surprised how soon his anger had vanished. He'd pictured the whole speech and talk to be far more aggressive, to be a real tough statement. But now that he was right here and it was happening he actually didn't have a real clue or plan on what the heck he was even supposed to say or do to make Connor understand that he sure as hell wouldn't let Murphy replace him like that from one second to the next.

Of course he knew what he could say, but those words would never ever leave his lips under any circumstances, because they were way too pathetic and would make Merle turn in his grave.

Get your shit back in my apartment. Move back in. Stay with me, not this little shit. Fuck Murphy, I need you more.

Connor frowned angrily and rubbed his abused knuckles.

"Te fuck are ye talking 'bout?"

Daryl narrowed his eyes at him and shoved him a bit.

"Yah know exactly what 'm talking 'bout. As soon as we found the freaking kid you scraped me off yah heels like dog shit. Grabbing your shit, moving out, turning yah back on me and pretending I don't freakin exist nomore just cos you got your bro back and don't need no substitute anymore. I ain't having that."

The older of the two friends snorted and shook his head in disbelief.

"Dude, yer the one who went all sissy on me from one sec to the next. Yer the one who keeps telling me ta fuck off. So don't act all surprised when I decide ta do just that. Make up yer mind fer once, will ye" Connor muttered and then tried to walk away, because he had more important things to do right now and didn't exactly fancy another one of their scuffles.

But Daryl wouldn't let him leave. He stepped in his way and shoved Connor back once more, against the wall, eyes glued on him with an unreadable expression on his face. The hunter really wanted to say what was on his mind, what he really wanted, but his pride wouldn't let him do it. And now that he thought about it, he was actually pissed at Connor.

Back in the old days it had been so easy for the Irishman to read him. To understand all the pushing away, all the words he chose that said 'leave' but meant 'stay'. But now that Murphy was back Connor didn't seem to be able to read him like that, or maybe he just didn't care anymore. His friend had no more reason to cling to him despite all the pushing, and that just made Daryl so frustrated and angry. He didn't have a clue how to solve this problem, how to act all different and show appreciation in an other way to keep Connor with him. So he did the same things as ever. He was surprised when the Irishman just smirked at him.

"Aw, look at her. She's all jealous, 'n wants ta keep me to herself. Admit it Darylena, you got a serious crush on me and don't wanna share now, do ye."

"Shut up" Daryl growled. If it weren't for all of his mixed emotions he probably would've punched the Irishman by now. But he was too caught up with all the trying to figure out which feeling was more dominant right now. The anger and pain over the name 'Darylena', that had once been Merle's and his father's trademark, or the embarrassment because he knew what Connor was aiming at, all the ambiguous things -he- had initiated until now, like yesterday or back in Augusta. Then he was also relieved because his friend was obviously still himself around him, the joking, the teasing, the typical bullshit talk he'd pulled through during the past couple of months.

In the end he settled on the latter and relaxed a tiny bit, but he wouldn't step away and kept Connor trapped with him, to keep him from going back to Murphy just for a minute longer. And once again he could feel that fucked up tension between them, that sick need to have a fight but smash their faces together at the same time, building up more and more with each second that Connor would give him that stupid, annoying and cocky grin of his. But Daryl decided not to do anything about it, not to fight or do other things, because they were right in the open with all their friends around them.

"You wish" he just grunted and wasn't so rough anymore, which made Connor smirk even more.

"Relax, fella, alright" the Irishman said in a calming manner and even grabbed Daryl's muscular and dirty upper arm to brush his thumb across it, not only to signalize that he wanted the hunter to give him some space to breathe, but also to show affection.

"How many fuckin times do I have t'tell ye. I ain't going anywhere. In fact, I actually need t'talk ta you anyway" he muttered and let go.

Daryl did the same about a second later, picking up on Connor's silent request, but he was rather reluctant about it.

"'bout what?"

"Training" Connor answered, folded his arms and then leaned against the wall behind him.

Daryl frowned and stayed right where he was.

"Training?"

Connor nodded and turned his head a bit to look back at main street, craning his neck and exposing the muscles, tendons and tattoo there.

"Aye. I want ye ta teach me a lot more stuff. About hunting. About tracking..outdoor survival and all that shit. Til I can do everything on my own.
I gotta get better at that. Better and stronger" he muttered and rubbed his neck a bit. Daryl just watched him for a moment and then snorted.

"Let me guess. Yah plan on going full-on uber-big bro" the hunter observed and Connor just shrugged.

"Well, can't do any harm, can it."

Daryl shook his head and looked away as well.

"Jesus."

"Oh go fuck yerself. What'd you know 'bout looking after people that fuckin matter t'ye" Connor answered and looked pissed from one second to the next.
Daryl narrowed his eyes at his friend and huffed in protest.

"Uhm… a lot? Yah ass wouldn't be standin here otherwise."

Connor raised an eyebrow at that remark and then smirked a bit when he understood the meaning of that statement.
Daryl froze for a second and wanted to mentally slap himself for letting that slip, and to keep Connor from saying something to that he just kept talking.

"How 'bout you get your head straight, chicken. The shit you doing? Slaughtering people and treating the kid like five year old when he's your age?
Locking him up like a grounded cry baby? And now you wanna become some sorta Hulk/Chuck Norris for 'im? That ain't lookin after people.
That's being a goddamned psycho 'bout it. Nothing more."

"No, that's called taking care of yer goddamn family. And 's been my job pretty much all my fuckin life. I just had a break from all that fer about a year."

Daryl snorted.

"Yah wanna look after your family when you can't even watch yer own ass."

"Why'd you think 'm asking ye ta help me, man?" Connor spat and then took a deep breath and looked down at his feet.
He tried to calm himself down and be his usual relaxed self again.

"You in or not?"

Daryl chewed on his lower lip for a while and just looked at Connor. He then let out a gentle sigh and looked away, still contemplating the question and chewing on his lip until it almost bled. When he finally looked at Connor again and saw the look on his face it wasn't like he had a choice anyway. He rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"Fine."

Connor smirked and nudged his friend's shoulder.

"Fuckin A. Told ye. We're a fuckin team."

Daryl tried to dodge the gentle blow and tried not to smirk.

"But he ain't coming" he warned his friend then and Connor stopped grinning for a moment. He then nodded and raised an eyebrow.

"Are ye crazy? Of course he ain't coming. That wouldn't be training, it'd be a fuckin massacre with the two of you. All we'd get outta this would be a whole bunch of bruises on both of ye, but not a single skill on me."

"Not like yah got any of those anyway" Daryl retorted and Connor chuckled.

"Fuck you."

Daryl finally smirked as well and then turned around to leave, but just when he had his back turned on Connor the Irishman suddenly asked him to wait. The hunter turned around, curious about what his friend wanted to talk about but already suspecting that Connor wanted to ask him about the 'party' tonight. He was quite shocked to find out that this wasn't the case at all.

"Got another reason why I wanted t'talk ta you, actually."

Daryl just stayed right where he was and waited for his friend to go on.

"'Bout yesterday…"

The hunter tensed even more, feeling more and more uneasy about the whole topic.

"Yesterday?"

Connor nodded and shifted just as awkwardly. Since the topic made them both feel pretty uneasy he searched his jeans for some cigarettes and was actually relieved that he still had some, although there weren't many left. On top of all the walker business and Woodbury shifts he would also have to go out and get new ones sooner or later, now that they were three smokers by now. But he kept them to himself for now, lighting one and taking a long drag on it to calm himself down.

He was quite surprised that he felt so awkward about it himself, because most of the time he was actually pretty much relaxed when it came down to this, the talking about intimate encounters and all. Most of the time he'd even been bragging about it, but this was different. This was unpleasant.

"Aye. Last night, back at the camp" he muttered and hoped that Daryl would finally pick up on what the hell he was talking about, because he sure as hell wasn't going to name it. Judging by the way his friend suddenly reacted he knew that he got the message. Because the hunter shifted just awkwardly and looked at his feet with clenched fists.

"Ain't nothin t'talk about" he growled and tried to walk away, because this was beyond awkward. He'd really appreciated their talk until now, how Connor had pretended that nothing had happened and that they were still in nothing but a relaxed and established friendship, but of course, the Irish freak had to fuck that up now and make everything embarrassing for the both of them.

"Well, I think there fuckin is" Connor insisted, a bit less awkward but a lot angrier and pissed this time. "How 'bout we stop that childish ping-pong fer once and handle it like fuckin grown-arse adult men. There's obviously shit we gotta talk about. I thought everything'd been said before all this, but the shit yesterday...Well. Kinda put everything in an other light again, didn't it then."

Daryl just snorted.

"Yah really wanna handle this kinda topic like men. Sorry, but those two things kinda don't go well together, leprechaun."

Connor rolled his eyes and tried really hard to stay calm, but just like the many times before Daryl's stubbornness just drove him nuts.

"Alright. I get that yer fuckin butthurt over the whole business, but stop talking down on me like that, alright? I mean, I get it. This is some tough, embarrassing shit fer the both of us. Not just fer you. But let's be honest here. Yer the one who pretty much started the whole thing, and I think ye owe me an…"

"I started this shit?" Daryl interrupted his friend and looked at him in disbelief.

"Newsflash. You did that" he reminded Connor and pointed at him with an angry frown.

"Oh, fuck ye. So maybe I did it fuckin once. But you've been the one doing shit ever since, alright?! That shit last night, that was you, not fuckin me" Connor shouted, louder this time, which made Daryl turn around and check on their surroundings, to make sure no one could hear them talk.

"Shhhh!" he even hissed angrily, to stop the Irishman from making it worse.

"Shhhhh yerself, asshole. Grow some fuckin balls" Connor retorted and shook his head with an angry frown. He headed for main street because he was done with the whole topic and knew that trying to talk to Daryl about shit like that was useless anyway. And truth be told, he didn't know what he wanted to talk about anyway. He'd just been curious, what he was supposed to make out of it and how they were going to handle that topic in the future but of course, Daryl had to be a freaking child there.

So Connor took a drag on his smoke and walked down the alley to get back out in the open, back to the others and Murphy.

"You're the only real good friend I have, alright?" Daryl suddenly spoke up and made Connor stop once again. He wouldn't turn around and just listened for a moment, giving Daryl some privacy to keep talking because he knew that this was some pretty intimate information right now. Stuff that the hunter usually couldn't really express. "Ever had, actually" the younger of the two added, and just like back in his apartment he could feel it again. That sadness, that loneliness, bubbling up inside of him. He knew that he still had people like Rick and Carol, but that just wasn't the same. He couldn't be with them like he was with Connor.

"And I guess I…."

He snorted gently and then looked away because this was still more than awkward.

"I just don't wanna lose yah over shit like that. Or because of your goddamn bro" he admitted and Connor finally turned around to look at him.

"'m just tired of losin people" Daryl went on and just looked at the Irishman for a moment, only to look back at his feet with a quiet sigh.

Connor took a deep breath and then rubbed his forehead, sighing as well and then shaking his head. He knew that his friend had that constant fear of getting abandoned by people who were close to him, but actually hearing him say it and admit it was something new. He also knew that this wasn't just about Daryl's past, or him or Murphy. It was still about Merle. And just like the many times before he felt guilty. That he was the one living the 'perfect' life with his brother from now on, the life Daryl could never have.

"Jesus, Daryl" he muttered.

"I fuckin know that, ye idiot. Ye don't have t'tell me. But I think you don't get some important things here."

The hunter looked up with a confused frown.

"Like what?" he asked when Connor wouldn't speak up right away.

The Irishman obviously had a hard time putting it in words, but then he finally did with an angry look on his face.

"'s not shit like that that fucks up our friendship. We're buddies no matter fuckin what, alright? With Murph, without Murph. I've changed a lot during the past year. I ain't the man I was a year ago. Ye've seen it. No matter how shitty it is. Murphy and I ain't -that- close anymore. And 's gonna take years til we get there again. And even without all that shit. Before the outbreak or whatever. I had friends back then, too. Ye know? Did I ever tell ye 'bout Rocco? Romeo?"

Daryl just shrugged and looked away.

"Nope. Not really."

"Maybe ye got the wrong impression cos of all my talk. My life ain't all about Murphy. Sure, maybe I'm a little fucked up in that regard. A little too obsessed, a little too possessive and 'psycho' as ye call it. But that shit doesn't change anything about the fact that I still got enough space for other shit in my life."

The hunter just snorted, not really believing the whole talk. He'd seen Connor. Heard him talk for the past year. It had been all about Murphy. All the time.

"Don't even ask how many hours I spent on watchin stupid fuckin movies. Partially on me own cos Murph fuckin hated most of 'em" the older of the two went on.

Although he didn't want to Daryl still had to snort.

"No wonder yah got so many retarded ideas 'n plans" he muttered and Connor chuckled.

"Right?"

Both men gave in to a little gentle laugh because the Irishman's obsession with movies really was too stupid to think about it. But then Connor got serious again.

"But really, man" he muttered and made Daryl look at him once again. "If yer so tired of losing people then maybe ye should stop pushing them away. Especially fuckin me. Stop bein so fuckin scared of that shit. Cos just like I told ye. Murphy might be back, but nothing's changed between us. Alright?"

Daryl snorted bitterly and looked away. He suddenly felt disgusted by himself once more.

"Of course it has" he retorted in regards to what he had done back inside the tent yesterday.

"So maybe it fuckin has" Connor said with another eyeroll.

"Jesus, stop being such a baby about it, man. Ye really got yer panties in a tight fuckin bunch, don't ye?"

The Irishman just earned an angry stare for that.

"We've been through lotsa tough shit. A whole bunch of deaths, our farm and prison got overrun, I got bit, you lost your bro, you nearly died, I nearly got killed, so really" Connor just went on and wouldn't give in.

"Nothing we can't handle, alright?"

Silence. Daryl just looked away and chewed on his lower lip, fists clenching, anger and frustration building up once more.

"Alright?" Connor insisted and the hunter let out a gentle sigh.

"I got it the first time" he growled and shook his head.

"Yah goddamn annoying. Good lord."

Connor just smirked at him and then nudged his shoulder.

"Alright. Party. Tonight. Rick said we'd all celebrate after another one of them meetings. Time t'get yer panties outta that bunch of yers" he said and they both headed for main street once more, only to freeze on the spot when Connor ran right into someone.

The man stumbled a bit and nearly lost his balance, but Connor was faster and managed to catch him, only to widen his eyes in surprise.

"Murph?" he asked and stared at his brother with wide eyes, shocked because his sibling was outside, on his own, and most importantly, so freaking close to the spot he and Daryl had used to talk.

a couple of minutes earlier:

Murphy couldn't fight the slight smirk anymore as he made his way down main street to check out Woodbury. Connor and Daryl had really told him the truth, and that just made him happy somehow. He could see the walls on both ends of this street, walls that kept the undead, decay and death outside. Woodbury was such a nice place compared to everything he had seen during the past year. It wasn't like the quarantine zone back in Boston, and it certainly wasn't like Augusta or Savannah. First of all, this was a small town. No skyscrapers, not too much space to lose track of everything. And to top it all: All the streets were clean. All the houses were clean. There was no blood, no rotting corpses, no death.

He could even see some kids that were running around. He remembered the baby that belonged to Connor's group and saw all the flowers down the aisle between the two lanes of main street. And the best part about it- there really was some electricity and running water. Water bottles were being passed around everywhere. He could see some of the men sit on the benches and enjoy their break from work with something to eat in their hands.

Woodbury was civilized. Woodbury was a shiny world, a small sanctuary. And he was right in it. He could even see some shops and one bar to his left and right, although he wasn't too sure if those were still in operation. No matter if they were, at least they were there. As memorial, something that could show him how the world had been before all this, a world that he couldn't really remember.

For a while he just walked up and down the street, careful not to cross paths with either Connor or Daryl. He didn't exactly want to get locked up again. In this tiny apartment, away from all of those pretty and shiny things. It was pretty hard now to try and stay mad at his brother for 'kidnapping' him and taking him away from Savannah. Because if he was honest - Woodbury was about a trillion times better than having to sleep in a stinking underground morgue. Although he had to admit that he kind of worried about all those people back there. They were old and sick. And he'd just left them there. Vernon. Brie. Joyce.

He scratched the back of his ear and chewed on his lip.

Maybe he could convince Connor to go back. Not to flee and stay in Savannah, but to go back and take those people back here, to take them in and let them live a life in peace, far away from Crawford.

Hm.

Now that he thought about it. Maybe it was a good idea to actually go and find Connor, rather than run away from him. Not just to talk to him about the Savannah thing, but also to ask him about many other things. Their past, the things he couldn't remember, how he had found this group of people this town, and most importantly…. The younger MacManus stopped smiling then and felt a bit upset.

Ask him if Daryl had told him the truth about the whole hanging business.

But he figured that they needed to do this in private, and now that he was awake and they were surrounded by walls and people that were still alive, he was pretty confident that they would get the chance to talk about it very soon. So many things to do, so many things to talk about. Murphy was brimming with anticipation and joy. It truly felt like he was back from the dead.

He looked around for a pretty long while but had a hard time finding his brother because he didn't know who he was supposed to ask or what the whole layout of the town was about anyway. He didn't know if there was some sort of town hall, or security or god knows what kind of thing and who he could possibly ask, and when he was pretty much about to give up he finally found him.

Connor.

He was walking down the pedestrian path on the other side of the street, head bowed a bit because he was obviously lost in thoughts. Just like the couple of times before Murphy suddenly felt the urge to go after his twin, follow him, to be reunited with him and close the distance between them. It was really weird, now that he thought about it. Like they were two opposed particles. Connor was the positive pole, and he the negative one. Dragging each other closer and closer.

He wanted to call out but refrained from doing so, because he didn't want to be too obvious about it and because he didn't want others to watch them. So instead of calling his brother's name Murphy just started jogging, across the street, towards Connor with a tiny, happy smile on his face. He didn't get the chance to reach him or talk to him, because right then someone pulled his sibling between two houses, into an alley, out of the sunlight.

"Hey!" Murphy protested and jogged a bit faster, curious and maybe a bit afraid because he didn't want to let Connor get hurt. It didn't take too long and he reached the corner of one of the houses. As soon as he heard the voices he couldn't fight the annoyed eyeroll though, because he recognized the voice of the 'attacker'.

Daryl.

That stupid redneck.

Murphy figured that it was none of his business, but still. He was rather curious what was up with that asshole. Why Connor would be friends with someone like him, out of all people. Apart from his face of course. The younger MacManus was still mad at the hunter because of that. Stealing his face and everything.

Asshole.

Murphy leaned against the wall of the house and tried not to be too conspicuous, but he was just too curious. He listened up and tried to hear what they were talking about. It was then when he picked up on their conversation, even worse, the constant scuffling noises that escaped the alley. The younger MacManus even went so far to sneak a peek, and he really didn't like what he saw.

Daryl, that redneck asshole, was pretty much manhandling Connor. And what was the worst about the whole thing - his brother let him. Before any of them could turn around and look at him Murphy would already stop peeking, but the sight wouldn't leave his brain. It was slowly dawning on him, where Connor might have gotten all those freaking bruises from. Not just from fights or all the encounters with the undead.

Murphy clenched his fists and felt his blood boil with anger, but he was actually surprised that he could keep his temper for once. He needed to listen to their conversation. Needed to understand why Daryl was between them, why he wouldn't back off and acted like he deserved to stay with Connor even now. He could punch the guy he all he wanted later.

He certainly didn't like what he heard next.

He could hear and pick up on everything. How close his brother and this freak really were, how well they seemed to know each other, how they were talking about him and most importantly - each other.

Murphy tried really hard not to take it that way, but some of it almost sounded like… He shook his head with an angry frown but regretted it when he got pain as a response. No. First he was dreaming about walker sheep and now he was imagining shit like that. He didn't know much about Connor after his memory loss, but he was -pretty- sure his brother wouldn't do shit like that. Do shit with some dirty, disgusting redneck asshole.

It was a sin. They were obviously both very religious. He was sure that he and Connor had been raised by a very religious family.
Connor knew the bible. Just like he did. Even after that shot.

But some of it….He heard them mention 'last night'. Multiple times. Like a code word. But this was weird. He'd been there the whole time. He would've picked up on that. He didn't get to ponder on that for too long, because then he could already hear them. The conversation was obviously finished. Connor and Daryl were just about to exit the alley. And if he stayed here like that, they would instantly know that he'd eavesdropped.

Oh shit. He needed to get away. Murphy tried really hard to get away in time, as fast as possible, but then the inevitable happened.

He ran right into Connor.

He didn't even need to see him, he could smell it, feel it. This was Connor, without a doubt.

"Fuck" he muttered and tried to stumble away, but his sibling had already seen him.

"Murph?"