Sorry for the cliffhanger you guys! And I hope that I'm depicting these characters true enough! Thanks to whoever is reading! I would love to hear what you have to say about this story!

Chapter Four

Surrounded

Murphy helped Rick put all the supplies he had brought over into the pantry. Rick leaned against the counter, not admitting that he needed something to lean against, filling out the inventory he kept. Murphy could see the way the mans hands shook along with the dead stare he was giving to the paper on the surface. The only sign indicating that he was alive was the way he blinked. It broke his heart to see how this world could destroy someone so completely. But the man had to be strong in some ways seeing as he had gotten out here, to safety, unless of course this had been his place beforehand. He didn't see it that way however, he had come here, him and his little girl.

"I can do this on my own." Murphy said, lining up the cans on one shelf. He was trying hard to keep his eyes off the walkers laying on the ground, they had decided that they would clear them out once the things were put away.

Rick shook his head. "It's fine."

"But you sure don't like too fine." Murphy observed, meeting his tired eyes with concern.

Rick let out a sigh, one that looked labored and painful. He let the pen slip from his fingers as he looked to Murphy. "Y'did all this for me and my daughter...I'm not even sure why."

"It was the right thing to do." Murphy replied before continuing with putting the stuff away.

What he said had affected Rick, sent pain straight into the dampened blue of his eyes. "The right thing to do." He repeated in a murmur.

Murphy could hear the breaking of the man's voice, like he was no longer in control of the pain in his body. He tried to ignore it as he finished up but it tore at him. This man was hopeless, had lost every bit of faith he had started out with. There was nothing alive in his eyes except for when he looked at his baby. It was too much, too painful, too sorrowed. He wanted to say something that would lighten him up but he didn't want to have to tell the guy to see the brighter side of things when sometimes it was even hard for himself. This world sent everything into tatters, shattering its core of humanity and leaving them with nothing to hold onto. What kind of world was that to hope in?

"I help you, you help me. That okay?" He knew that this man was stubborn in allowing others to help him, he could sense that. So he made the compromise even if he wasn't really expecting it in return.

Rick looked up at him straight into his eyes. There it was again, the pained familiarity that he was struggling to get over. Who did he look like? What had happened to this man to lead him right up to this point? What had ruined him so much to make him a shell of whoever he used to be? Had it just been the walkers? The world breaking apart? Or had it been deeper than that? Worse than that?

"That's fine." He nodded in agreement, reaching down and picking up the pen again. His hands continued to shake and he almost angrily threw the pen down. His handwriting was beyond messy and he hated seeing that he had also lost something as simple as that.

"You done?" Murphy asked, coming closer to where Rick was standing. He looked down at the list and took an intake of breath over the messiness of the writing.

"Yeah..." Rick gave a nod, setting the pen down and looking to Murphy. "Y'ready to clear them out?" He gestured towards the bodies laying on the ground.

"Again. I can do it on my own." Murphy insisted, his concern strong in his voice.

Rick shook his head. "I'm helping." He stated before moving to the back door and dragging one of the bodies out the door. He let out a groan blood smeared across the wood floor.

Murphy watched him, seeing his exertion and admiring from afar. This man had been through so damn much and yet here he was, still keeping his strength in tact. His body had ben weak but it was his soul that possessed the remnants of of the man he once had been.

Rick came back in, reaching down for a walker before looking up at Murphy who was still standing in the kitchen in the same place Rick had left him in.

Murphy could see the waiting in Rick's eyes and he nodded to that, realizing that he hadn't been helping. He went quickly and took up a walker, dragging it with him out the door.

They dragged them out one by one, laying them on the sand that surrounded the house.

"What are we gonna do with them?" Murphy asked, looking around.

"Burn them." Rick replied, walking past him and into the house again. Soon after he came back out with a pack of matches. Standing over the pile of bodies he lit the end of it and dropped it down onto a tattered shirt starting up a fire.

Murphy stepped back, watching as the flames licked at what was left of their flesh. Slowly he lifted his eyes to Rick who was watching the flames just the same. They grew in the blue of his eyes, sparking up a bit of life that had been missing before. There was a bit of pleasure there to have killed these walkers, to have kept them away from his haven, from his daughter. Rick looked up, meeting Murphy's eyes and he gave him a slight nod. One of both gratitude and understanding. But all in all Murphy couldn't even begin to understand what Rick had gone through. Murphy hadn't lost a thing except for Boston and of course whatever friends he had back there. But he had his brother, his family, and that's all that mattered to him.

The wind began to blow by and Rick began to walk towards the house. Murphy stopped him though by calling out his name. He turned to face him, stunned it seemed by whatever he saw again in his face.

"What is it?" He asked, his face too damn tired to be possible.

"Who's Daryl?" He felt himself ask it before actually realized it and he saw the effect it had on him.

Rick took a deep breath and he looked away. This man had helped him, had possibly given his little girl another chance at surviving. This man who had his friend's face. The face of the man he had let down. He stood there, a symbol of the world he had let fall apart. All because he had thought it was the right thing.

"He was my friend." He replied, finally looking into Murphy's eyes again.

"And he...he's gone?"

"He died." His voice was so monotonous but that didn't cease the storm raging within his eyes. "I don't even know how long ago. We were staying in a prison, some people wanted to take that away...we were ready to die for it. They did, and here I am. Still alive." He turned his eyes away and looked out at the waves that were picking up in strength.

"How many were you?" Murphy asked, letting Rick's previous words hang in the air between them.

"Twelve. Now it's just two." He breathed back the emotions struggling to rise from inside him. He didn't cry anymore. What gave him the right to cry when he had caused it all?

"I'm sorry." Murphy said, his voice lowering.

Rick just nodded towards him before he slipped back into the house. Murphy stayed where he was for several moments , watching the fire die down leaving nothing but ashes that the wind would sweep away.

He found Connor by himself in the living room looking bored as hell. Rick was nowhere to be seen but he could hear Judith's small voice from somewhere in the house.

"You alright?" Murphy asked his brother, setting himself down next to him.

"Aye. Rick said we could sleep here tonight. Don't think he likes the idea of anyone going around at night." Connor smiled a little but it faded. The atmosphere was so dark it clung to them, sucking away their usual behavior.

"Don't like it much myself. Do you mind?"

"Course not. Think there's a couple extra rooms here." He looked satisfied with that thought as he glanced down at his ankle.

"Good. That's good." Murphy nodded and rose up. "Well I'm gonna get some sleep."

"What? And without dinner?" Connor questioned, a smile hinting on his lips.

"That ain't all I think about, Now goodnight. Hope you get around alright on your stupid broken ankle." Murphy tossed out as he walked away towards one of the spare rooms.

"You just wait until we get outta here, Murph. I just don't wanna be disrespectful in this man's home." Connor called out to him, a trace of laughter on his voice.

Murphy looked back at him with a shake of his head. "You're just scared you might lose." He said before slipping into the room and closing the door.

Connor laughed to himself before he rose up and hobbled towards the third room.

Rick's eyes shot open. He had been lost somewhere between sleep and being awake, Judith cradled protectively in his arms. For the first time in a long time they weren't alone in this house, the two brothers presence almost comforting. He wasn't alone. He could breathe. But just as that thought crossed his mind there was a loud sound from downstairs. His eyes opened and he got out of bed. Judith stirred and moaned softly before settling back into sleep against him. He held her close as he left the room, silently making his way around.

The two spare rooms were shut and the house was empty. He almost let out a yell of fear when he saw what they were surrounded by.

The windows of the house were large, giving whoever was inside full view of the ocean. All he could see now though were walkers. Walkers everywhere. They were clawing at the glass, moving against the door. They didn't look to be backing away anytime soon and seeing him there was enough to make them even more persistent. It made him think of the farm, the way they had been overrun. It gripped him inside with fear as he turned around and raced back to his room.

Hurriedly he dressed Judith as the sounds became louder. He made sure she was warm before he slipped on his own jacket and threw ammo into a bag which he slipped up his shoulder. He left his room and went into the spare room closest. Murphy was laying there and Rick had to shake him to get him up.

"What is it?" He asked groggily.

"Get your brother. We're surrounded." He whispered harshly before slipping out and racing into the kitchen.

The sudden movement had woken Judith up and she started to cry. He tried rocking her, not wanting her cry to bring more walkers but she wouldn't stop. She was so tired. Heavily he sighed and threw what supplies they could carry into a bag before rushing back into the living room where both Murphy and Connor were now standing, preparing their guns.

"It was the damn gunshots." Connor said to Murphy, they seemed to be in some kind of argument.

"Rick, what are we gonna do? They're everywhere." Murphy said once Rick came rushing in, giving a glare to his brother.

Rick looked around and then down at Judith who was beginning to calm. He couldn't let them go down like this. Not again.

"The attic. For now." He said, knowing that it couldn't be permanent but if they broke in they wouldn't find a thing and the four of them would be out of reach until they passed on.