"Murph," Connor started, and paused. He searched for the words. He didn't know how to say what he was thinking.
Murphy threw his hands in the air and broodily sulked across the upper bedroom of the house they found for the night's accommodations. "I'd have done it if you asked." He stared out the window, avoiding Connor's eyes.
Connor leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. He cradled his face in his hands. He knew.
He knew him dragging his feet was driving Murphy nuts. They had been ambling around the Northern Plains of the US, dipping into Canada more than once. Winter was on its way, and moving south would negate his reasoning for coming north. Cold slowed these creatures down, kept the two of them safer.
And above and beyond all of that...
"What if they are gone? What if she's gone?" Connor couldn't think of a more tactful way to say it. What assurance would they have that Maggie was even still alive? Its an awful long run with no guarantee outcome.
"What fucking difference does it make?" Murphy spat back, stormed back over to where his brother sat. He pushed at Connor's shoulder, trying unsuccessfully to throw him off balance. "Does it make a bit of difference if we freeze our asses off up here and die of exposure or head back to the last sure thing we had?"
...
As he climbed into the passenger seat the next morning, Connor was still running his tongue over his teeth, making sure his brother hadn't worked them loose. He flipped down the vanity mirror as Murphy put the car into gear. Connor ran his finger over his black eye as his other half pointed the car southward.
AN: Huge thank you to Valerie E. Makin for her handholding, ass kicking, and editorial expertise who is always willing to give some advice/ let me vent/ send me a youtube video to inspire me. Thank you!