setting: The Walking Dead S04 episode 1 "30 Days Without An Accident"

Absolution

Chapter 7 - Overrun

No matter how hard he tried - he couldn't make their situation any better. Murphy was hacking and slashing his way through the mob of undead, trying to get them away from the shaking bus and wall, but there was no stopping them. For every dead body that dropped to the ground there were already two more undead staggering towards the wall. More and more walkers were coming from all sides, exiting the alleys between the abandoned houses, walking down the roads, stumbling out of the forest that was close by.

The younger MacManus twin was breathing heavily by now, exhaustion eating away his strength and making it harder and harder to keep fighting the ones that were shaking the wall, fighting the ones that were trying to grab him. His immunity and its strange side effects certainly helped. But just like the many times before he noticed a few walkers that seemed to be smarter than the others, the ones that were almost picking up on his fraud, this trickery of being masked. It certainly wasn't like they really tried to attack him or bite him, but they were a little too interested in him, like drunks who wouldn't respect your intimate space, all sniffing and grabbing like unpleasant stalkers.

And unpleasant was the right word, because there were many things that made the whole fighting really hard. The smell was one thing. Being so close to a walking, rotten corpse was almost unbearable. The stench of rotting flesh and crusty, foul body fluids made it pretty hard for him to keep the few stomach contents (Connor's fucking pineapples) he still had inside of him. He was pretty sure that he would never get used to the smell, but this wasn't even the worst part. The most horrifying thing that made it incredibly hard for him to continue, that made him want to freeze right on the spot was the near.

The grabbing, the moans, the stares. Whenever his body connected with one of the undead he couldn't help but startle violently, his whole body tensing up and feeling the urge to flee, run away and get as far away from the walkers as possible. Even after one year of trying to cope with what had happened he was still helplessly exposed to the aftermath of that day in Boston. Flashbacks and echoes. With each contact.

"MURPH!" Walkers, coming from all sides, cutting him off from his brother, who was running towards him with wide eyes. The endless killing, running and trying to fight his way out of there. The sudden harsh pull on the back of his shirt, the abrupt stop, the incredible and sudden sharp pain in his shoulder. Connor screaming "NO!" over and over again.

Murphy killed another walker with an especially brutal stab to his right eye socket and took a couple of heavy breaths as he wiped his forehead with an exhausted sigh. He hated it to be so close to the walkers, he was beyond scared and most importantly - they made him think about Connor. Not just because of the shot that had happened because of that day, but also because he knew what this sort of thing had done to his brother as well.

He shouldn't be here. Not just because the walkers still terrified him and traumatized him, but also because he didn't want to do this to Connor all over again. It was dangerous to be right in the middle of this undead crowd. And his brother was right - he shouldn't trust this whole immunity thing. Nobody should know about this. Connor shouldn't learn about what he was doing here right now.

The Irishman turned his head to have a look at the shaking wall of Woodbury and tried to make out how many people were really witnessing what he was doing. He certainly didn't like what he saw. Not just 'the group' was up there by now. Other people had joined them. People he didn't know, people Connor hadn't talked to yesterday. Strangers, who were fighting the walkers with long sharp sticks but who were still watching him with wide eyes, like they couldn't believe this was happening, how he could just walk among the infected and not get attacked.

One of the men seemed to be especially freaked out, the way he was staring at him like he was the worst monster of them all.
Murphy swallowed hard and had to kill one more walker who was getting too close.

He certainly needed to get away from here. Out of here. Stop people from seeing this. But the shaking of the wall and bus was still alarming and getting worse still. What was more important? Keeping people from finding out about his 'special abilities' because of that bite? Getting his ass away from all this danger just so he wouldn't upset Connor later? Or keeping the walkers away from the wall to protect Woodbury from getting overrun?

He turned his head in panic and stabbed a bunch of walkers more, although he knew it was useless. He was just one person down here, trying to fight at least one hundred undead. The others were still trying to kill the walkers from up the wall, but once again Murphy only noticed the countless bodies on the ground all around him, in front of their wall. It was getting harder for him to walk around and get to other walkers because the ground felt like a minefield with all the butchered bodies on the ground. To him they were a constant danger of tripping over them or being unable to run away should other walkers decide to attack him. For the undead they were a useful tool, a natural ramp which provided them better and constantly higher access to the wall that was about to tip over.

It wasn't working like this. He couldn't stop them.

A loud gunshot startled him when Andrea and another woman resumed shooting once more because they were getting desperate. Murphy wanted to yell at them first, remind them of the noise they were making when an idea suddenly struck him like lightning.

Noise.

Noise attracted walkers. The undead who couldn't stay here, the ones he needed to get away from the wall.

"Get down and keep quiet!" he yelled as loud as he could and turned around to stare at the people on top of the wall with wide eyes.

"What?!" Andrea asked and looked back at him in horror, rifle still in her hands and aiming at another walker.

"I said get down and keep quiet! Don' let them know yer on the other side! I'll be right back!" he shouted and then started pushing and shoving his way out of this mess, away from the wall, towards the rear end of the herd of walkers.

"Murphy! Stay here! Get back I said!" he heard Rick shout but ignored the man. He knew that the guy was probably only saying that because of Connor, but the Irishman did not care about his orders. It wasn't like their leader could stop him, now that the walkers were between them and Murphy certainly used this advantage. He started running faster and faster as soon as he had fought his way out of the crowd and took a sharp right turn to enter the street he remembered from yesterday.

He really hoped it was still there.

He felt like he was in an action movie. It wasn't like he could really remember that many films, but it still felt oddly familiar. He sped down the road and almost drifted his way around the corner, only to stop the car for a moment. He had a look around and watched the scenario in front of him in both fascination but also horror. Parts of the metal shielding of the wall were already giving in and the school bus that backed up most of it was really shaking by now, to a point where it wouldn't take too much for it to reach its momentum and really topple over. And to make it worse - everyone had ignored his orders and was still on top of the shaking thing, stabbing and shooting around like there was no tomorrow.

It was obvious that those people were getting desperate. He was pretty sure that they must've thought that he'd run away from them.
But running away had never really been his plan. Sure, he'd been eager to get out of this mess, but certainly not far away.

But far away was exactly the point. Killing the walkers wasn't going to stop their little problem or make it better. Getting them away was gonna do the job. Murphy put in first gear so he could steer the car unto the street that led to their part of the down and then turned the vehicle around so he could approach the wall in reverse. He grabbed the back of the passenger seat and then accelerated, getting faster and faster as he sped down the road to come to their aid.

For just a moment he considered driving right into the blood thirsty crowd of the undead, but he figured that he couldn't crash the only car the had left here. And he certainly needed it. He knew that he probably shouldn't drive a car with his slightly bad vision but kind of screwed this state right now, because he couldn't care less if he hit something as long as the car kept running. He even hit a bunch of walkers on purpose when he finally reached the wall and then moved the window down so he could have a look outside and talk to the people on the wall, which was harder than he thought because once again some walkers were getting pretty brash and tried to get inside the noisy thing that was his car.

"Get down 'n stop shootin! They can't know yer still there! 'm gonna draw 'em away!" he yelled and locked eyes with Rick for a moment, who looked completely disheveled by now and stared at him with wide eyes. It took their leader a good minute, but then he finally seemed to get it. "Do as he says! Get down!" he shouted and started shoving at his people, desperate to get them off the bus.

"What?! Are you crazy?" Andrea shouted and tried to keep fighting, to keep protecting Woodbury, but then Rick already forced her to get down. Murphy finally had to climb back inside the car because the undead were really mobbing the car by now, slowly closing in on it, attracted by the sounds of the running engine. He knew he needed to hurry or else the undead would keep him from getting the car back outside the crowd, but this was exactly what he needed to do. He had a final look in the rearview mirror to check if everyone was gone and done shooting, and once he'd made sure that he was the only one left on this side of the wall he finally pulled his plan through.

He hit the middle of the steering wheel hard and continuously, making the horn howl and beep loudly with each hit.

"Come on ye motherfuckers! Move yer rotten fockin asses!" he yelled and slowly accelerated to keep the car at steady walking speed so he wouldn't lose the undead and keep their interest. He kept making that noise, honking the horn, yelling and shouting, trying to be as loud as possible. The younger MacManus had another look inside the rear view mirror to make sure that no one from Woodbury would start shooting again, and the sight pleased him a lot. The absence of people on the wall was one thing, but what made the whole situation even better was the fact that his plan was working.

Some walkers were still scratching and shoving away on the wall, but most of them, dumb brainless crowd that it was, were actually really following him. It certainly freaked him out yet again to see all the undead stagger after him, reaching out and baring dirty, rotten and bloody teeth like they were really trying to get him and bite him again, but right now the satisfaction was far more present, and he started chuckling with excitement because it worked, because those things were so terribly, terribly stupid. They had the attention span of a potato by the looks of it, like three year olds in a toy store. Like the moment they saw something new and shiny, the moment they heard something louder and more striking they completely forgot about the thing they had wanted before.

More and more undead were slowly turning away from the wall and started to stagger after his noisy car, attracted by the fuss he was making, their few remaining instincts telling them that were there was the most noticable noise there had to be something to eat. So they followed him and pretty soon the bus and wall was shaking less and lesser still.

Murphy chuckled even more and then even cheered.

"Holy shit" he giggled to himself. "I can't believe tha fuckin works" he said and then shook his head with a snort because really. The plan was so stupid and simple, but it really seemed to work. The undead were coming along. Even worse, he even had to slow down to make it possible for the brainless crowd to really follow him. And they did. He was successfully leading them away from Woodbury.

"Walkers!" Sasha shouted and both Connor and Daryl snapped their heads to the right to see what was going on. They could hear the constant strange noise, the cracking and bursting of what seemed to be parts of the ceiling. It took a moment but then they could clearly see it, as one of the mentioned walkers fell to the ground pretty much right in front of them.

"Shit" they said at the same time and then looked at each other.

They could hear that the others were already starting to fight the walkers, there was some yelling, some gunshots and the breaking of glass, and even now the cracking and bursting of the ceiling wouldn't stop as more and more walkers started falling down. Since pretty much everyone from their group was busy fighting the walkers there was no one left to lift the shelf off of them, which made both Connor and Daryl furious.

"Move yer fuckin ass!" the Irishman roared and started writhing, as if trying to get both the shelf and Daryl off of him.

"'m trying asshole!" Daryl yelled back and moved just as much, placing his hands on each side of Connor's head to use them to do some sort of push up to get rid of the shelf. But the thing was heavy.

"Come on, be a fucking man about it and push!" Connor kept yelling because he hated being stuck, hated that he couldn't do anything about this situation when he could hear their people fight and scream outside. "I said I'm trying!" Daryl spat, angrier this time because once again the Irishman was getting on his nerves. He even went so far to move his right knee up as hard and fast as he could, burying it between his friend's legs and making the blonde gasp in pain.

"Ow, Jesus, you motherfucker!" Connor groaned but couldn't even shield himself from this foul abuse, so he just squeezed his eyes shut in pain and tried to roll to the side. And although their situation was pretty fucked right now Daryl still couldn't fight the smug smile that broke through. Because really, Connor didn't just deserve a kick in his nuts for his stupid pushing right now, but also for the thing that had happened yesterday.

"Be a fuckin man about it and help me with this thing!" he shouted but grinned, because he certainly liked how Connor was still writhing in pain underneath him. "I fuckin hate you, evil bastard" the Irishman groaned and was just about to kick or box back when someone interrupted them.

"Guys?!"

They both turned their heads only to see that Taylor was kneeling beside their shelf, looking down at them but turning his head once in a while to keep an eye on the chaos all around them.

"There you are! Lift this heavy son of a bitch off us now, will you? Good lord, I don't plan on being stuck down here with this asshole forever" Daryl complained and tried pushing and moving again, whereas Connor just grunted a pissed "Fuck you" and tried to move to the side.

"All right. We seriously gotta get out of here, it's getting real bad…"

Another loud cracking sound pretty close to them. Taylor looked up and now there was some sunlight illuminating his face as a new hole in the ceiling made it possible for the sun to shine inside the building.

"Shit, there's another one….and another one, fuck!"

"Hurry!" Daryl roared and moved even more, making the shelf creak and bounce.

"Okay…okay.." Taylor said, his eyes opened wide by now, sweat running down his face and making it obvious that he was scared.
He then moved and placed both his hands on the shelf.

"On three…" he mumbled and Daryl mentally prepared himself for what was up next whereas Connor placed his hands on the shelf on both sides of Daryl's waist to help them with the whole pushing process.

"One…two…three!" Taylor shouted and then all three men started pushing and lifting the shelf, until it slowly but carefully moved back up a couple of inches. Connor was the first to notice the change, because from one second to the next the weight was suddenly lifted off of him and he could move again. And he certainly didn't hesitate. He crept his way to the side, eager to move away from this trap, the shelf and Daryl, whose entire body and especially his arms were shaking because of the sheer physical strain from pushing the shelf up like that, back pressed against it.

"Hurry the fuck up" he even grunted, pretty close to losing his concentration and strength. Connor crept his way out of their trap and was free, and just for a second he had a look around to really see what was going on. There were countless holes in the ceiling and more and more walkers were still raining down on them. He could see Tyreese, his sister and Michonne fighing their way through the aisles, every single one of them more than busy and unaware of the fact that Daryl was still pretty much stuck.

"Leprechaun!" he heard the hunter shout and then remembered that Daryl was indeed still down there.
He turned around and then grabbed the shelf as well to help his friend and Taylor.

"All right, one, two, three, go!" he shouted and they got back to it, pushing and pulling to free Daryl. Except that things went wrong. The hunter tried to warn them with a loud but exhausted "Watch out!" but then it already happened. Taylor suddenly started screaming and let go of the shelf, making Connor lose grip because of the sudden shift of weight. The shelf came crushing down on Daryl once more, making him shout and curse. Connor stared at Taylor in surprise and tried to make out what was going on, but he couldn't see anything. He could just hear it, the tearing of flesh, the struggle, and since the man was continuously staring down the Irishman figured that a walker was probably lying down there on the floor and attacked his legs.

The older MacManus was eager to get to the other side of the shelf not just to help the man, but also to keep the walker from crawling underneath the shelf to get Daryl. He was halfway there when another scream startled him. He turned his head only to see that Glenn was lying on the ground as well, pinned, with a walker on top of him and a second walker slowly creeping up his legs, ready to bite him.

"Fuck!" Connor exclaimed and turned his head multiple times, slightly panicked as he tried to figure out who needed his help the most right now. Daryl certainly was his main priority, but he couldn't get him out of there on his own. He needed help, which meant that he certainly needed to help Taylor. Except that this guy had been bitten, whereas Glenn hadn't been bitten yet. Even worse - Glenn was pinned and there were two walkers attacking him. Taylor was only fighting one walker and he was still standing, now already hacking and stabbing the walker.

Taylor needed to handle himself for minute longer.

Connor started sprinting down the aisle and then kicked the walker who was lying on top of Glenn right in his face. The undead's head was thrown back and made him fly off his prey, startling the other attacker and making him snarl at Connor. But the Irishman was far from done. He grabbed his gun to shoot the second walker in his head and used his other still bandaged hand to grab his knife and stab the other walker in the mean time. He then put his knife away again and offered Glenn a hand to pull him back up.

"Not t'day buddy" he said and then hit Glenn's cheek after making sure that the Korean was still in one piece.
"I need yer help, Daryl's still trapped" he said and then quickly turned around to see how Taylor and his friend were doing.

Taylor was nowhere in sight.

"Shit!" Connor shouted and started running once more.

"Leprechaun!" Daryl shouted when Connor's feet were suddenly out of sight. He could still hear Taylor screaming to his right, saw the walker, how he was biting the man's calf and tearing his skin and muscles off. Since neither Taylor nor Connor were holding the shelf he was completely trapped underneath it once more, muscles already aching, broken rib burning against his aching lungs, left foot hurting because it was slowly getting crushed by the angle and sheer weight of the shelf. He took a couple of shaky hard breaths and tried to concentrate, tried to blend out the pain and the excitement. He then pushed once more, grunting under the weight.

Taylor's screams were getting louder and louder by the second, then there was another sound of something heavy falling to the ground. Daryl collapsed once more right then and there, because the thing was just too heavy. He took a moment and just lay there, squeezing his eyes shut, trying really hard to gather some strength to keep going. It was fucking typical. Connor had made it out of here and now he'd disappeared once more, left him on his own. All of these fuckers out there were leaving him here, expecting that he was going to handle himself.

And of course he could. Of course he should. He'd made this pretty much clear during his entire stay with this group, ever since Merle had dragged him away from the evac station in Atlanta.

"Come on, Darylena. We both know yah wann do it" he heard Merle say right then and there and his eyes snapped back open. There he was, his brother, kneeling next to the collapsed shelf, right next to Taylor, who was now lying on the floor with the walker on top of him, tearing at his guts and eating away. To make it even worse - Taylor still seemed to be alive because he was whimpering his way through this torture, half dead, struggling and utterly insane. Merle watched the scenario for a moment with a sick smirk and them turned his head to grin at Daryl.

"Yah gonna end up like 'im baby brother. Go ahead. Call 'em. Beg 'em for help. Hell, you're already takin a siesta down here, might as well go full on pussy on this thing to save your sorry ass."

"Shut up" Daryl grunted, breathing in baby powder during the process and coughing hard, which made Merle laugh.

"Yah the one cuddlin with stuffed toys, sniffing hard shit like baby powder and you're tellin me t'shut up? Get outta here."

Daryl frowned angrily and placed both his hands on the ground to start pushing once more.

"I mean look at you…yah really gone this far, baby brother? You really ain't got no balls in those pants of yours even after years of me beatin some manhood int'your stupid melon? Here y'are, surrounded by pansy shit, waitin for your boyfriend t'safe yah, can't even move a lil' shelf..pathetic. The old man didn't call yah his sweet lil princess Darylena for nothing" the older Dixon just mocked his younger sibling, chuckling more and more.

"I said shut up" Daryl grunted and tried harder and harder because his brother's mocking just made him extremely angry.

"Nah, come on. Don't be like that. I mean we both've always known yah won't get shit done with your good ol' big bro Merle gone. Admit it..yah nothin without me, baby brother…"

"I don't need no one!" Daryl suddenly roared, louder than intended, because the Merle being gone thing had hit a nerve. He managed to almost kneel for a second, the weight of the shelf momentarily forgotten because of the sheer anger, but reality wouldn't let him be in this state for too long. His shouting had attracted the walker's attention. The undead stared at him, face and hands caked with blood, letting go of Taylor's bloody corpse. Then there was a gurgled snarl, and the walker started crawling towards him.

"Oh shit" Daryl huffed and tried to move but the stupid fucking shelf kept him right where he was, stuck, foot trapped and making an escape impossible. The walker came closer and closer, reaching out for him, face bloody, mouth wide open and biting thin air with angry snarls and noises that almost sounded like screams escaping his mouth.

"No!" the hunter yelled angrily and tried to keep moving the shelf, getting more and more desperate but also angry by the second. There was no fucking way he was going to get his ass bitten simply because of his stupid fight with the leprechaun earlier. It had kind of been his fault because he had been the one to shove Connor against this shelf. But then again - he'd only done this because the Irishman was such a fucking prick. So really, this whole dilemma wasn't his fault. Connor was to blame (once more) and he was so going to beat his ass into the ground should he get out of here alive.

It didn't take too long for him to realize that he wasn't going to make it like that. There was no way he was going to get rid of the thing in time, because the walker was getting really close by now. He really needed to fight. The hunter tried to reach his knife but cursed even more when he realized that he couldn't grab hold of it.

Great.

He didn't even need to really see the walker to know how close he was, crawling underneath the shelf with him, less than an arm length away.
He could already smell it. The blood, the decay, death. Then there was a bony, rotten hand grabbing his muscular upper arm, and that was it.

"Get off!" Daryl roared and started fighting, and just for a second he didn't care about anything, that the walker could bite him any minute, that he was trapped and couldn't get away from the whole gutting part should it happen, the anger and sheer survival instinct took over. For just a moment he wasn't fighting a walker but everything else. His hatred for this fucked world, the rage his brother's words had made him feel, reminded him that he really was nothing without Merle, his big brother, the one who had turned into a creature like this and tried to take him with him. And he was angry because of his nightmare from yesterday night, angry because of last night with all the things Connor kept doing to him all the time with his constant coming and leaving.

To make the situation even more fucked up - he really didn't have anything here to clobber the undead to death. He was surrounded by baby stuff. Stuff that had been designed not to hurt anyone with sharp edges. He was literally surrounded by plastic, toys and stuffed animals. So he took whatever he could (which happened to be a stuffed killer whale, the irony) and used it to stuff it in the undead's stinking, rotten mouth to keep him from biting him, still impatiently waiting for the others to lift the shelf off of him but still fighting on his own. His position was awkward but he still managed to somewhat turn on his side, broken rib stinging and making him gasp once more, but he did not care. Once again he had to show Merle that he was man enough, that neither this group nor Connor would ever turn him into some sissy. He placed both his hands on the underside of the walker's jaw and started to pull, harder and harder, teeth gritted, and soon he couldn't keep the angry, animalistic growl inside anymore.

The old man didn't call yah his sweet lil princess Darylena for nothing.

These words kept ringing in his ears, repeating themselves over and over again and going under in all sorts of laughter and that just riled him up even more to a point where he saw nothing but red. He pulled even harder and the rotten skin, muscles and bones that were already weakened from the walker's fall down the ceiling certainly helped. From one second to the next it suddenly gave in and Daryl managed to somewhat break the undead's jaw and neck, bending it over and making it impossible for his attacker to bite him.

The undead was still moving and conscious but at least the threat was gone, or so Daryl thought. The hunter needed a moment and tried not to gag because once again he was covered in blood, guts and all sorts of disgusting things that were now on top of him or running down his chest, which made the whole ground slippery and his whole escape plan even more impossible. Whenever he tried to place both his hands on the ground to push the shelf back up he slipped and landed back on the ground, cheek pressed into the black and red mix of guts, blood and baby powder. Which was pretty absurd, but he tried not to think about it.

And he didn't get to think about it, because right then he could already see the next walker that was heading for him, the undead that had first been attracted to the smell of Taylor's fresh blood and his helpless, agonized whimpering, only to see him struggle underneath the shelf, a whole lot more alive than his current prey.

Round two.

Perfect.

Daryl was more than exhausted from all the fighting it was getting hard to breathe with all the powder in the air and the stench of the struggling walker on top of him, which gave him even less space down here. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep doing that. Where the fuck were the others? He was dangerously aware of the fact how exposed his left leg, the free one, really was. This one would be the first to get bitten, should the other walker manage to really get here.

"Son of a..bitch" Daryl grunted and tried to move and struggle, because even now the walker with the broken neck and jaw was still trying to attack and bite him. It seemed to take forever until something finally happened. The second walker was pretty much about to start gnawing on his shoe when he was suddenly pulled back, away from the shelf and out in the open.

Daryl turned his head to see what was going on. He knew that he shouldn't be surprised but he still was when he recognized those legs. Connor, that asshole, was finally back. He'd pulled the undead out in the open and then crushed his head with his foot. He then knelt down to check on Taylor, only to let out a frustrated sigh.

"'m sorry, buddy" he mumbled and placed his hand on Taylor's eyes to shut them. He then placed his gun on his forehead and pulled the trigger to end this sheer agony. Daryl respected the deed, acknowledge Taylor's sudden death when he'd just been trying to help them, but that still didn't change shit about the fact that he was still angry about the whole being trapped thing.

"Little help here?!" he roared and then Connor's face popped into view. There were lots of blood spatters in his face, indicating that it had taken him so long to get back here because he had been busy killing more walkers.

"Daryl! Ye all right?"

"Yeah, except for the whole being stuck down here because of you retard!" he roared and moved, only to slip on the pool of blood once more.

"Alright. Ty, Glenn, ye take this side. Mich, Sasha, you watch our backs" Connor instructed and a couple of seconds later more feet and hands popped into view, suggesting that maybe this time Daryl was going to be freed. And maybe the hunter was overwhelmed for a moment, because there were people who actually cared about him, tried to help him because he mattered.

"On three..one…two…three!" the Irishman shouted, and this time it really worked. There were four people moving the thing, Daryl included, and after about one minute of pushing and pulling the shelf was back in its old place, revealing the mess underneath it. Connor instantly let go of the shelf to rush to his friend's aid. He grabbed the walker that was still lying on top of Daryl and then stabbed the undead in the back of his head. He then pulled him off his friend and crouched down to check on the hunter, much to the latter's discomfort.

"Are ye all right? Fuck, there's a lotta blood on ye, were ye bit?"

Daryl didn't get the chance to answer right away, he needed a second to turn around and sit up, and Connor's fussing over him and touching him all over the place wasn't exactly helping.

"Did ye fuckin get bit?!" the Irishman asked, louder this time, and tried to move Daryl's shirt were an especially large spot was, but the hunter smacked his hand way.

"No, 'lright? Jesus.." he growled and tried to get up on his own, but it was pretty hard when his whole body ached from the physical strain. Not to mention how both his rib and foot were pounding, almost like the shelf was still pressing down on them. It also pretty much embarrassed the crap out of him, the way Connor kept checking on him, patting him down when everyone was standing around them and could see it. He stumbled back on his feet and then started walking to get his crossbow back.

"We should get goin" he just growled and walked away, eager to leave the mall because it was getting way too dangerous for them here.

And once again they were driving down the road, this time following the pick-up truck instead of leading it away. And once again Connor was the one driving the car, the only difference between this trip and the one to the mall was that they were alone this time. The Irishman had asked Glenn to join Tyreese, Sasha and Michonne on their way back because he needed to set some things right with Daryl, and the Korean had granted his wish after thanking him for saving his life back at the mall. So here they were, just the two friends, unusually quiet and lost in thoughts. Connor had many things to think about. The bag, for one thing. He'd taken Taylor's bag on their way out. Sure. It had been necessary because the bag was filled with medicine and useful stuff. Not just for Murphy (the main reason why he had taken the bag) but also for the group. But still. He felt a bit bad about it. Kind of stealing from dead people, kind of making it obvious that the bag was more important than this guy's life although he had been geniously nice.

Jesus, he really did more and more ruthless shit these days. He could really feel what this world was doing to him, was doing to all of them. Because this was the unpleasant truth - he felt indifferent about Taylor's death. Sure, it was sad and all, but they had seen so much death these days that it almost felt like one tiny life didn't matter. Although he knew that it was terribly wrong he was just glad that it had been 'just' Taylor. Not one of the people he considered their real family.

And family and close relationships was exactly the point here. He turned his head to look at Daryl, his friend, who was still covered in blood and wouldn't say a word. Connor didn't quite know what the silence was about. If his friend was just tired, upset because Taylor had died because of him or if he was still mad at him because of their fight before shit had hit the fan.

Another reason why he had asked Glenn to leave them alone.

They passed the junction that led to the prison once more, and this was the last trigger he needed to pull it through. He let go of the accelerator and slowed the car down, making the distance between their car and the pick-up bigger and bigger until the other part of their group disappeared behind a hill.

Daryl turned his head with a frown and looked at him, confused by the sudden stop. Connor just had to acknowledge the similarities for a moment, because it really felt like some weird deja-vu. Just a couple of months ago. When they had tried to get Hershel some crutches and run right into a bunch of cannibals. It had ended exactly like that. The both of them bloody and unusually quiet, with Daryl sulking away because he'd been the one to lose for once, the one to get hurt.

His friend was never good at coming to terms with the fact that he was vulnerable as well, that even he could lose sometimes and not be the constant badass. And this was exactly the point, the whole Daryl almost getting bit and being in danger made Connor stop, made him take the time when he wanted nothing more than getting back to Murphy. But the mall incident had made him realize something, not just reminded him of parts of their shared past. And much in contrast to the cannibal incident he wouldn't keep quiet this time, wouldn't back down and let Daryl isolate himself.

They just stayed like that for a while, car idle, Connor staring at the road, lost in thoughts, Daryl looking at him with a frown and waiting for him to tell him what the hell this was about.

"D'ye wish that you could just turn back time sometimes?"

Daryl frowned just even more.

"What?" he eventually managed to growl, and Connor leaned back as he moved his hand across his face with a tired sigh.

"Back t'those days when we was just on our own, when there was no Woodbury or Murph dilemma, when we weren't at each other's throats every fucking day.."

He turned his head to the side to look out of the window and swallowed.

"Shit was easier back then" he mumbled and clenched his fists a bit. "Coulda been easier" he added, and Daryl just looked at him for a while.

"Your bro wasn't there back then" he just said, confused because he didn't get what Connor was saying. The Irishman chuckled and nodded miserably.

"Aye. Exactly."

This statement made Daryl frown even more.

"I'm really fucking happy that he's back. Honestly" Connor said and still wouldn't look at Daryl.

"But it's fuckin me up. It's driving me crazy 'n makes me do fucked up shit. And I just hate how it makes everything even more fuckin complicated than it already is."

The hunter tensed a bit and paled, because he was pretty sure he understood what Connor was aiming at. Why he had slowed down and asked Glenn to go with the others. He wanted them to have some sort of awkward talk about their situation, after their rather angry and violent confrontation earlier inside the mall.

Connor wanted to turn back time. Undo things. Go back to their old relationship like back at the fire station.

Murphy had been the only reason why he'd done 'fucked up' things with him, because now that he thought about it he had to realize that it really had been like that. Things had changed between them since Augusta. The place where they had discovered that Murphy was still alive. And his friend had gotten 'intimate' with him whenever something important had happened with Murphy. Connor, jumping out of the window after discovering that Murphy was still alive, the whole thing that had ended with the kiss by the river. Then that night prior their travel to Savannah, when Connor had been emotionally fucked because of his guilt over shooting Murphy. That night inside that tent when they had almost ended up screwing each other - which had been right after Connor's first day with Murphy.

And last but not least - yesterday night, when they had made out, triggered by Connor's first night of sharing a bed with his brother. It had never been about them, never been about this turn in their relationship. He knew that this was supposed to make him happy. He had his manliness back, right? No budding gayness or more shit like that with Connor. He should cheer about the fact that his friend was obviously trying to 'end it' after their discussion inside the mall. But he was surprised to discover that he didn't feel like cheering at all. It actually really hurt him.

"Fucked up shit, huh" he growled but didn't know what else to say. Of course. It was fucked up and wrong wrong wrong. And yet it had never felt like that. He knew that they would always be friends no matter what. Screwing around or not, they were stuck with each other. But still, it felt like he was losing something important.

"Aye. He even said it 'imself earlier today. 'm turning fuckin psycho. And even I kinda notice tha" Connor said and looked straight ahead. "Yer both right. 'm overreacting. I know that I won't ever shut up 'bout him, and 've done some things I ain't proud of just t'protect him. I killed people and got people killed fer him. Abandoned them and left 'em to die because he always comes first. Back in Boston I let walkers eat a fucking kid just so I could save 'im. And most of the time I…" he snorted and shook his head only to look away once more.

"Whenever somebody died or dies I always just thought 'thank god 't wasn't him.' Like all the others don't even fuckin matter anymore when he's around. When Taylor and Glenn both needed my help I had ta stop fer a second and think, what if this had been you and Murph? Would I've chosen him and fucked our friendship as well? I honestly don't even fucking know anymore, it's creeping me out and I just" he let out a frustrated sigh and swallowed hard.

"D'ye want us ta go back t'Woodbury?" he asked after a while.

Daryl stared at his friend in disbelief because this was the exact opposite of what he'd thought was going to happen.

"What?"

Connor stared back at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Do ye wanna go back t'Woodbury or do ye wanna go back to the two men group thing. Like before we found Murph" he repeated, and Daryl snorted.

"Yeah, sure" he said sarcastically and turned his head to stare out of the window because this was getting ridiculous.

"I'm serious, all right" Connor growled and looked away as well.

"That walker nearly fuckin eating yer guts just reminded me that I really don't wanna lose yer stupid ass, but judging from how things are going between us because of this whole Murphy thing I kinda figured 'm gonna get just that if we keep going like that. So I guess this is the only way t'prevent that shit from happening. Cos I'm seriously fucking sick of the whole fighting bullshit all the time."

He took a deep breath and tried to convince himself that this was actually a logical option when his entire body screamed 'No!' at him.

"I mean…maybe just fer a while of course. T'settle things. Give me time ta come t'terms with it and proof t'ye that 'm not such an arrogant selfish dick like ye say I am. Or try not ta be like that. I know Murph's safe now..Woodbury got walls, food, electricity, water, protection and people. And he likes it there. And 'm pretty sure he'd be a whole lot happier if I stayed away from him fer a while. He kinda made it clear that he doesn't want me near him after…" he just sighed and wouldn't speak it out. "Maybe it's good fer all three of us."

Daryl snorted once more.

"This is bullshit" he stated and then looked at his friend in disbelief.

"You wanna leave your bro just cos you don't wanna lose me. Sure. Do yah even realize how gay that sounds?"

"Fuck you" Connor said angrily, but he still wouldn't start driving. He waited for an answer, and Daryl finally understood that maybe this really wasn't a joke.

And just for a second he thought about it. Sure, this was the one thing he really wanted. Murphy leaving Woodbury would be even better, but this idea was pretty tempting as well. The end of the world, just the two of them watching each other's asses. No responsibilities, no looking after others or getting upset when they died, no constantly being watched or fearing that others would get the wrong vibe, less stress, less fighting.

Connor was right. Sometimes he wished he could just turn back time to those days at the fire station when everything had been far more quiet, relaxed, when they had just kept each other company, when they had hardly ever fought, went on hunts together, silently smoked cigarettes and hunted and prepared their own food, when they'd had their daily routines and worked like clockwork. Could've been easier, that part was also true, because he'd been thinking about that as well, what would have happened if Murphy hadn't come back and they had still went that far like last night.

It would've been easy. No one there to judge them, no one to be afraid of, no more loneliness or endless lack of confidence. Best friends who'd reached a point in their friendship where they got along really well, where they'd been willing to share that much with each other until maybe someday they found real women. Fuck, Connor could've helped him to get there one day, to be able to let other people in his life and not get freaked out by his abusive past.

But still. He also remembered the downside - what Murphy's constant absence had really done to his friend. And this was exactly the point. He wasn't this selfish, this cruel. He would never ask for something as cruel as this from Connor just so he could have him all to himself.

"I don't wanna hit the road again, man" he said and this part was true.

Because he also remembered the loneliness, the boredom, the silence. He liked having people around. He loved their group.
Rick, Carol, little asskicker, Hershel, Glenn, everyone. He didn't want to keep leaving them. Glenn had summed it up once.

My blood, my family is standing here or waiting for us back at the prison.

No matter how much he really wanted to make their relationship easier and less complicated, he wasn't willing to give up their group for that, just like he knew that Connor wasn't really willing to give up Murphy for him.

"And no matter how much I hate his guts…" he mumbled and then looked at Connor.

"He's still your brother. And yah can't leave the guy twice. You'n I both know that you'd never forgive yourself. Blood's blood. Won't stop bein like that just cos yah think yah gotta run away from it."

They locked eyes for a moment but then Connor looked away with an angry growl. It was true, but he still really wanted Daryl to understand that he was willing to do that for the sake of their friendship, to keep it going, even if it meant that he and Murphy would have to part ways for a bit.

"I still want that shit t'work out" he insisted, quieter this time, more collected and it certainly helped that they were too exhausted to be angry or fight about it once more.

"How 'bout yah go back t'being the guy I grew t'like last year then" Daryl growled and Connor smirked when he noticed that this was one of the rare moments where his friend allowed himself to show affection. The hunter noticed that, too, and immediately tried to hide it. "And hate a lot" he added and nudged the Irishman's arm, which made Connor chuckle.

"Love ye too, honeybunch" he said and nudged Daryl back, only to grin even more.

"This is the part where we have t'make out now, right? Admit t'our epic romance be all gay gay gay fer each other...Whitney fuckin Houston playin in the background.." he went on and even did the stupid kissy face and sounds at him, which really made Daryl laugh in surprise, although he really didn't want to. "Cut it out, jackass" he said and tried to snarl the words the way he usually did it, but his laughter kept him from doing just that. Connor was actually a bit surprised as well, because he'd only heard Daryl laugh a few times.

They both laughed for a moment and then Connor finally accelerated again, feeling that another fight was finally over and everything was okay again. More or less. He was kind of relieved that he didn't have to leave Murphy to make up for his mistakes with Daryl, and he was very keen to try and change things from now on. Seeing walkers so close to his friend, and fearing for just a second that his friend could've been bitten had kind of snapped him out of his current uber-protective big brother mode, made him realize that Daryl was still pretty much as important as his brother, reminded him of their past time together, the way he had been. And he'd said the truth. He wanted this to work out. Everything.

"Still meant it, though" he said after a while, and Daryl wouldn't look at him.

"I know" he just said, although even now he wasn't too sure if Connor would've pulled it through. In the end it was the thought that mattered and they both knew it.

The change was kind of hard to miss, really. There was only one large main road leading out-and inside Woodbury, the road that went right through their part of the town, the road where they had build the two largest walls. The first thing Connor, Daryl and Murphy had faced after their return, the first thing they were facing now, when they had been just about to turn left into Sunnydale road. But they didn't have to, because the wall was clear.

They only caught glimpses of Tyrese, Sasha, Michonne and Glenn's pickup truck when it disappeared behind the gate, then it was already closed again, making the sudden lack of walkers even more obvious. Connor and Daryl just stared straight ahead for a moment, confused by the lack of growling monsters that were trying to get inside their town.

"What the hell" Connor mumbled and looked to the left and right, but there were no walkers in sight. There was a pile of smoking bodies not too far from the place where they had parked their car, but there certainly weren't enough bodies. There had been a huge pile of walkers just a couple of hours ago. "You think they got inside?" Daryl asked and tried to make out the walkers as well, but he couldn't see anything. There were still some people on top of the wall, guns in their hands, patrolling, two of them waving at them to get them to come closer.

"Doesn't exactly look like it, wall's still intact, innit?" Connor asked and leaned forward to get a better view. "Where the fuck are they though?" he asked and frowned. He honestly didn't get shit right now. He remembered his talk with Rick yesterday. The cop had asked him to handle it because it was getting out of hand, so who the fuck had done the job without him now?

"Guess we'll have to go'n find out" Daryl muttered and leaned back, already preparing himself for the movement of the car. Connor eventually accelerated again and steered the car towards the gate, and he was even more surprised when they really opened it after probably having it closed shut for a couple of weeks because of the herd. Both men had a look around inside Woodbury as they steered the car to the parking lot where Glenn and the others were, and once again they had to discover that the walkers were absent. Nothing looked like their town had been overrun by a herd, it had just disappeared.

"That's pretty fuckin weird right now" Connor said and then stopped the car, having a look around just like Daryl who answered with a simple 'hmhm'. Even worse, somehow Connor was getting bad vibes. What if some walkers had managed to get inside? He'd kept Murphy here, locked, unable to get away. Oh fuck, what if something had happened? He got rid of the seatbelt and almost jumped out of the car, eager to find out what was going on. He didn't have to look for answers for too long, because Rick already came jogging towards him.

"Where's Taylor?" was the first thing he asked when he let his gaze wander across the entire scavenging group and noticed the missing person.

"He didn't make it" Tyreese answered and Rick nodded, maybe a tiny bit upset, but some other sort of worry was far more present in his face.

"All right, we got ourselves a little problem" he stated and looked at Connor, who wouldn't let him finish.

"Aye, no shit. What happened t'those walkers? I thought I was gonna handle that t'day? We've talked about this, Rick. I said that shit's too dangerous fer other people.."

"Okay, just…just relax. The bus was about to topple over and the wall was breached…"

Connor widened his eyes in shock and lifted his head a bit to scan the houses for his and Murphy's apartment.

"What? Where's Murph, he still up there? How many got in?" he asked and tried to walk past Rick, to get to their apartment so he could check on his brother.

"Murph!" he already shouted, panic kicking right back in although he had been so keen to control his protectiveness now.

"He jumped the wall" Rick said behind him, making Connor freeze in his tracks. He turned around to look at their leader with wide eyes.

"Excuse me?"

"The wall was about to give in, they kept pushing and pushing…" the former cop explained and bit his lip because this was more than awkward for him. "Me, Andrea and the others tried everything to keep them at bay, but there were just too many of them. We were pretty much done when you brother suddenly came along, jumped off the wall and started killing them down there."

For just a second Connor didn't know what to say, how to breathe, what to do until he eventually managed to ask one question.

"Where's he."

Rick turned his head a bit as if trying to look for support and then locked eyes with Daryl for a moment, who looked just as surprised.

"He….took a car and led them away. Most of them. I tried to stop him but…."

"I told ye nat ta fucking drag him int'this, I was gonna handle it!" Connor suddenly yelled, face nothing but a red, angry grimace from one second to the next. The Irishman tried to march up to the cop, fury taking control of his body, but just when he was about to grab Rick by his shirt Daryl suddenly placed himself between the two of them and placed a hand on his chest.

"Hey, come on, ease up."

"I ain't gonna…where the fuck is he?!" Connor still roared, trying to fight Daryl to get to Rick but the hunter really dug his fingers in his shirt and kept him in place.

"We don't know. He followed the main road and we lost him in this mess, they followed him and blocked our sight."

Connor finally managed to free himself and took a couple of steps back, moving both his hands through his hair as he tried really hard not to lose it. Which was almost impossible. He was too familiar with the feeling, losing Murphy from one second to the next, so unexpectedly, ripping that old wound wide open once again. He tried to control his breathing, take the rational approach but those words kept ringing in his ears.

He jumped the wall. We don't know where he is. They followed him.

He walked in a circle and then looked at Rick again.

"How long?"

Their leader exchanged glances with Daryl once more and then swallowed.

"Less than an hour after you left."

"Jesus fucking…." Connor gasped and turned around, once again fighting a fit of incredible rage.

Murphy was gone. Again. This had to be some fucking joke.

Rick tried to explain himself, but Connor wasn't even listening anymore. He checked his gun and knife and then ran for the gate to go out and look for his brother.

"Connor!" Daryl shouted after him, but he just ignored his friend and kept running.