Some Murph/Rick Walker action in here. Hell yeah! Glad for that! Well hope y'all like this!
Chapter Three
Return
Sometime had passed and Rick simply sat there. For what? He couldn't even tell. The day was passing just like the waves of the sea were crashing. He had heard Daryl say he would be back but he hadn't come back yet. No it wasn't Daryl. Daryl was dead. He hadn't known Daryl because he had killed him. He had let him die in that prison alone with everyone else.
Looking down at the baby in his arms he swallowed down the feeling in his mouth that had turned drier than before. He grimaced at the soreness of his throat and pulled her closer to his chest. His head was spinning and he had to sit down again to regain himself. She reached her little hand up and touched at the boniness of his face. He tensed at her touch. For a moment it flashed in his mind. Lori placing her hand on his cheek, letting him know that his decisions, whatever they were, were right.
Are they right now? Right now when everyone was dead? Had he made the right choice of letting it come to war? Of standing their ground in a defenseless prison? What would Lori say now? She would side with Shane. She would turn her back on you because you're a murderer. Harshly he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to suppress the dark voice that crawled up inside of his conscience. Why do you carry on? End it all. Die like you let them all die. Die, die, die. Everything was death.
Carefully he set the baby into her playpen and watched her a moment. Trying to understand the innocence in her eyes. Had everyone been that innocent at the beginning? Had he once been that way? He couldn't see past the blood on his hands. Blood, crimson red, he was empty.
He moved away from the playpen and entered the kitchen trying again at the sink faucet for water. He was alive but he was dying. He needed water, his head was spinning and he couldn't calm down. His nerves were high and he could feel himself losing his grip on everything. He could feel their blood spraying on him. He had killed them all twice. He had watched them all die twice.
A bang at the back door pulled his eyes from the failed attempt for water. Several bangs, clawing, low growls. He sucked in a breath and an anger fueled through him. Not here. Not now. Not with memories pulling him apart every which way.
Slowly he reached into the back of his pants and pulled out his Python. He was lucky to have not come upon many walkers because it allowed him to preserve what ammo he had. He slept with his gun, keeping it close no matter what.
He made his way to the back door, looking at the aggressive walkers that wouldn't back down. He thought of blowing a shot through the glass but he knew that would scare the baby. He reached for the lock and took a deep breath. Hell he didn't even care if he died. Die. Die like they all died.
"C'mon Conn, it's just a guy and his little girl, they won't be of any trouble. And I didn't exactly ask them to join us, just going to bring them some supplies." Murphy tried to reason with his brother who had shot down his idea of helping the guy Rick out.
"Y'remember last time we helped someone out? They damn near killed us." Connor said with a shake of his head from the bed he was laying on.
Murphy looked at his brother with a bit of disappointment. He definitely remembered the last time they had helped people. But that had been a group of four guys, two women and one kid. During the night when they were all supposed to be sleeping they had tried to take over their place. They had promised each other that wouldn't let that happen again and had raised their guards up to ensure their own protection. Never knew these days.
"Whether you like it or not I'm bringing some stuff over there. They might die. Rick needs it and so does his little girl." He started going through their stocked cabinet to fill a bag.
"Oh? So it's Rick now? Y'gonna build a tent and camp out with him too?" Connor tried to sit up but grimaced when he moved his ankle too much.
"Y'can't stop me, now can you? I'm bringing it and I'll be right back. Alright?" He tied up the bag and turned to look at Connor.
"If you're going so am I."
Murphy sighed with frustration. "Damn it, y'can't even walk. Stop acting like I'm your scared little brother, I can take care of myself." He threw the bag over his shoulder and went to the door. "Don't do anything stupid." He said with a small smirk.
Once he stepped out of the cabin he looked around at the clear day. It was odd to be able to stand here unharmed and actually be able to admire a day like this. No walkers, no stupid groups ready to kill him and his brother. It was a good day.
The door creaked open behind him and he turned to it with surprise. Connor was standing there, hobbling on the makeshift crutches he had managed to make.
"I told you I was gonna go with you." He said, squinting at the sun.
Murphy couldn't help but laugh at the miserable expression on Connor's face. "You sure look horrible brother...but here..." He took off his own sunglasses and slid them on Connor to shield his eyes. "...to ease your discomfort."
Connor gave him a glare before he followed after him. Murphy was leading him towards the sidewalk that was led to the beach's shore. He was glad that he and his brother had gotten some peace after everything they had been through since they had broken out of prison. They certainly deserved it.
They finally stopped near a sole house that Murphy looked up at with a bit of worry in his eyes. Murphy was always so damn spontaneous, aggressive even but he knew that the heart was there inside and he was glad that this world hadn't torn that out of him.
"Let's go in." Murphy said back at Connor, nudging him forward.
They made their way to the house and Murphy reached for the door without knocking.
"What the hell Murph?" Connor nearly yelled, slapping at his hand.
"What?!"
"You don't just walk in there like a stupid idiot!"
"Rick is too damn weak to even walk across the room...we'll be fine, come on." He pulled the door open and adjusted the bag over his shoulder.
They went on inside the house. Murphy heard the scratching and growls that was coming from the back of the house. "Y'hear that?" He asked in a low voice as he carefully set the bag down.
"'Course I do, there must be a dozen of them." Connor's brows furrowed together as he listened in.
"Y'go check the baby, she's probably in the living room. I'll go check it out."
Connor nodded and hobbled off to the living room, taking the bag with him. Murphy made to pull one of the guns out of his holster but thought better of it with the baby in the house. Instead he took one of the knives out that he kept on himself always and made his way to the back of the house.
He saw Rick standing there reaching out for the knob on the door. He had a gun in his hand, his weakness making his arm shake a little.
"Rick!" Murphy called out in a low whisper, his eyes watching the walkers threatening to get in.
Rick turned at the sound of Murphy's voice. His eyes were cold, distant from the moment that they were both in. There was anger in his blue eyes, desperation and yet there was still weakness pulling him down.
"Move away from the door." He said as he made his way to the back door and reached out for the lock. "I can take them."
Rick shook his head, grabbing his arm and pulling him away. "Let me." He hoarsed out, his eyes pleading with Murphy.
"We'll both do it." Murphy said which earned him a nod. He reached his hand out and pulled open the door before he and Rick both backed off in haste.
The walkers came at them, around ten of them, all wanting the flesh off their bones. Murph forced his knife into of their eyes, feeling the blood gush out onto his skin. He pulled it out again and cringed at the sound of Rick's gun going off. A walker dropped and the baby started crying. He grabbed one of the walkers that made for the living room, digging his blade into its brain once he dropped it onto the ground. Another bullet fired and the walker fell. Murphy nodded to Rick before he forced his knife into another walker.
"Just pull your damn gun." Rick grunted out before firing again.
Murphy was at a loss because he didn't want to hurt the baby's ears but he he pulled his gun anyways. The silencer was attached and it blunted the loud shot as he fired at the four remaining walkers.
They stood in the silence of the house and looked down at the walkers on the ground. The gunshots echoed in their ears but it didn't leave much of an affect.
"First time this happen?" Murphy asked and Rick gave a small nod. "Told you I'd come back."
Rick held Murphy's eyes a moment, the walkers seemingly bringing him out of the shell he had been locked in. It was like he was trying to figure something out.
"I brought you some stuff...Me and my brother."
"Your brother?"
"Aye." Murphy nodded. "C'mon." He gestured Rick with him towards the living room, figuring they could clear the walkers out later.
They found Connor sitting on the couch, trying to hush the baby in his arms, it didn't look to be working.
"Y'best leave that little girl alone, Conn. She doesn't seem to like you at all." Murphy said with a laugh as he leaned back against the wall.
Rick moved to the couch and took the baby from Connor protectively. He pressed her against his chest and looked between the two brothers. He was still trying to wrap his head around this guy who looked like Daryl coming in here. He couldn't come to turns with it. Dead. Everyone was dead. Dead like those walkers. Those walkers were dead. Dead like everyone at the prison.
"What's her name?" Murphy asked, looking at the baby and how she calmed in Rick's arms.
"Judith." He replied, trying not to cringe at the memory of when Carl had brought up the idea of naming her Judith.
Murphy nodded, noticing the pain on Rick's face. What turmoil did this man go through? He looked like he had been through hell. He touched at the spot where his tattoo was beneath his coat. Did grace even exist now?
"Can't thank you enough." Rick said, looking them both in the eyes.
"Don't mention it." Murphy said with a nod.
Rick looked between them and then down at the baby in his arms. Did he dare let the thought cross his mind? Would he now let darkness swallow him whole? Let it swallow him up and leave his baby to fall into the arms of these two men?
He shook his head. He couldn't do that. He had to live. That had been his promise. His promise to Judith, his promise to God above. He would keep her alive and if he had to live through everything else than that was exactly what he was going to do.