I do not own Boondock Saints or the Walking Dead.
I own Alice and Red Donahue, and Daphne Jones.
Connor watched over his herd once more, being a spectator to his flock as the younger sheep had begun to grow, playing with their siblings in the afternoon sun. They fed on the tall grass that had grown in their pin – a relatively boring job compared to the others in the prison. Connor pulled his pack of cigarettes from his pocket, shaking the pack a few times to judge whether or not he needed one with only three left in the case. He decided against it before the sound of angry barking pulled him from his flock.
Connor's head shot up to the sight of a grey dog running alongside the chain-link fence, barking and snarling at the tree line before a group of flesh-hungry walkers stumbled over the threshold, following the young pup. The dog moved like a blur, he could only take in the light grey coloring in his coat before it disappeared back into the trees, leading the walkers on a bit of a chase.
The walkers followed, ignoring the smell of sheep and humans just inside the gate as they went after the easier target of the dog. Connor looked over to the gardens where at least five other people saw the same encounter, Alice's floppy straw hat following the dog as it whizzed by the fence once more.
He heard the commotion between Alice and Beth, the young blonde girl that had helped in the kitchen and with the young ones in the prison. Beth was getting closer to the fence, her blue eyes downtrodden as the dog zoomed by once more, the gaggle of angry walkers close on its tail. Hershel stood outside the garden, watching over the survivors work as Beth abandoned her job of picking the fresh vegetables to walk towards the fence. Hershel almost shouted at her, but thought against it with the walkers so close by.
With all this action going on, Connor could help but stick his nose in the middle of it.
He walked over to the gardens, his boots making tracks in the high grass. Connor had reminded the group a couple times that they just might need a goat for this yard, only to be shot down by the fact that goats weren't as readily 'available' as they once were.
Hershel shrugged his shoulders at the Saint as he made his way passed him, eyes set on Alice and Beth as they stood at the edge of the fence.
Alice looked behind her, giving a weak smile with her arm around Beth as the young girl watched the dog make a run for the third time.
"We can't just leave him out there."
"I know. How are we gonna get him?"
"W'at's goin' on?" Connor said, gaining Beth's attention. With sorrowful eyes, she looked up at him, tears had begun to fall down her pale cheeks.
"We can't leave him out there." She said, wiping away the wet tracks of the tears that fell. "It's not right."
"We're gonna save the dog." Alice said, taking a definitive stand in the matter.
"No, yer not."
"Yes we are."
"You can't."
"And why not?" Alice said, putting her hands on her hips, dripping with defiance.
"It's not wort' t'e gamble. You can't just risk your life for every soul you see."
"That's rich, coming from you, Con." She said. "You risked your life every day for other people, people you didn't even know. How is this any different?"
"It's a fuckin' dog!" Connor practically exploded, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. She was a pain in his ass since day one, why did he ever expect her to stop.
Alice walked up to the Saint, standing a good four inches below him but still managing to size him up. She titled her head just slightly, a grin sprouting on her face. "You can either help us or stay out of our way. Either way, we're getting the fucking dog."
Connor closed his eyes as he sighed, feeling his headache something back. He began to regret the decision before it was even made, feeling the decision had been made for him. It was tough for him to say no when she batted her eyes like that.
"Fuck…"
Connor silently cursed the day that Alice Donahue ever walked into his life. Like a wrecking ball through an art gallery, she destroyed every well-made plan that Connor had ever put forward for her own needs. Today, in the hot Georgian sun, she needed that dog.
The motherfucker was still running around the prison fence, having disappeared briefly as it ran completely around the prison, still barking its full head off and drawing more walkers. Alice and Beth were on the inside of the fence, while Connor, with his head chockfull of images of 'heroics', stood near the gate with his hands wrapped around the chain lever.
The plan was simple enough, no matter what he thought of her easy plan; he knew that they always fell through in the end. Nothing was ever as simple as it was on paper.
Alice turned to Connor and gave him a head nod, to which he returned before the girls began banging on the chain link fence. Their open palms hit and banged on the chain link, shaking it in its posts as the walkers turned to face them. Their decaying jaw had slacked open at the sound and smell of fresher, slower meat as they turned to march towards the fence.
"Come here!"
"You hungry?"
"You want some, huh?"
"Come on, now!"
The girls tainted from behind the safety of the fence, getting most if not all of the lamebrains attention as Connor pulled on the chain lever. The doors opened wide with a screech that echoed off the prison walls. If there was any attempt to hide their plan from the rest of the group, it was foiled as now the gates stood wide open.
"Come here, you son of a bitch!"
"Here kitty, kitty, kitty!"
"Din-din!"
The girls shouted some more at the walkers, banging on the fence with their open palms before Beth grabbed a crowbar, pushing it through the slots in the fence and stabbing a walker in the mouth; the black, infected blood spewing from its wound as it coated Beth's arms.
With a sharp whistle, Connor tried to get the attention of the mutt, shouting sweet words towards it to coax it between the open gate and out of the reach of hungry walkers. The mutt shot out of their like a bat out of hell, racing like a greyhound to the open gate as Connor continued to call the stray.
"Come 'ere!" Connor said, whistling at the end to get the pups attention. "'Ere girl!"
The dog ran through the gates passed Connor to safety as he released the chain, the mechanics pulling the gates closed. He didn't have a second to look, or even think about the dog before he ran in full sprint towards the girls, grabbing a gardening hoe before stabbing the handle through a walkers bottom jaw.
"Is it okay?" Alice said, stabbing one of the female walkers with her trusty rebar spike.
"Tis fine." Connor lied, laying into another walker as the small group began to dwindle.
"I hope it was wort' it."
"Oh, go fuck yourself."
The walkers began to dwindle, the group shrinking as the three of them killed walker after walker through the fence before there was only one. The skinny walker hobbled on one leg over the bodies of its kin, it stared at the group with yellow eyes through dark matted hair as it snarled and snipped at them.
Connor grabbed the rebar from Alice's hand and stabbed it through the bright yellow eye, the sound of its skull breaking almost echoed in his mind as the would-be-killer stopped cold in its tracks.
Connor pulled the rebar from its eye, the organ still spiked on the end as the putrid smell of decaying flesh assaulted their noses if for the first time. Beth was covered up to the elbow in infected blood, reeking of the smell of death, while Alice's favorite weapon was effectively ruined, being too squeamish herself to pry the yellow eyeball off her weapon.
The dog barked, getting its saviors attentions. It ran up to Beth, who squealed in delight when the dog ran right up to her arms. It began to lick her cheeks, wiping away the weeks of crude and dirt that had collected. It ran up to Alice, nudging her leg a little bit as she petted its neck.
The American Pit Bull Terrier looked rough, its short grey hair had begun to spot in several areas where scars had formed over a life time of abuse. Three scratches on its hind leg, a front paw that was almost completely barren of all fur, its fragile pink flesh poking through, and a scar around its neck from years of being chained out in the cold – this dog looked like it had gone through hell and back. Despite the scars around its neck and its obvious exhaustion, it still had enough fight in him to run from those walkers, chase them all over the prison. It was a damn good dog.
The dog panted heavily, its large pink tongue sticking out the side of its face as it looked like it almost had a smile with its new attention. Connor knelt down and began to pet the mutt; the distinct smell of puppy breath over powered the smell of death.
"What are we gonna name her?" Beth asked, looking on in admiration for the dog.
The dog leaned up against Connor, knocking him to the ground as he felt something brush against his leg. He looked up, poking his head around as the dog processed to lick his face clean.
"I don't' t'ink it's a girl." Connor said as Alice eyes wondered to the hindquarters of the dog, confirming that it was in fact a male dog.
"So then naming it Ms. Fluffy would be out of the question?" Alice joked.
The dog stopped licking Connor, its flopped over ears perking at the sound of the livestock within the fence. Slowly, the pill bull went to investigate, its nose stuck to the ground as its new adoptive owners began to get nervous.
The dog went up to the fence were the pigs where, it's curious nose sniffing out the pen for a little while, while Beth and Alice were slowly losing their minds at the sight of the pit bull going towards dinner.
"This was a bad idea."
"We shouldn't have let him in."
"What if he eats one of the piglets?"
Connor stayed quiet, watching as the pit bull's head turned to the side before he lifted his leg, peeing on the pigpen. Connor looked back to the girl as they stood in silence, Alice having a hand over her mouth to stop from giggling.
"I t'ink he'll be just fine." Connor said with a smile, watching as the pit bull pup made his way through the fields, sniffing and peeing on everything in sight.
Alice sat on the metallic table in the front of the cellblock, watching out of the corner of her eye as they children in the cellblock flocked to the new puppy, showering it in previously foreign love and affection. They petted and patted its grey fur in return for sloppy puppy kisses on their cheeks. One little boy was talking about finding a stick and having him chase it, it was only after they had found a stick, a police baton, that Carol put a stop to the madness.
Connor talked briefly with Rick, recovering from the talking too about opening the gate without his permission. Connor nodded his head, agreeing with everything the leader said. It was foolish, it was dangerous, and it was just plain stupid. He couldn't bring himself to tell Rick that it was Alice's plan – no, he just figured that he'd take the blame now and take it out on Alice later.
Daphne waddled from her cellblock, her arm protective over her unborn child in the presences of a notable man-killer (and the dog). With a weak smile, she sat next to Alice's familiar face and began to talk to her about the complications she had been having over the past week or so. After losing track of the days, she couldn't exactly tell when her due date was, but felt as though she might be getting close. This was her first child though she felt like she might know when she was getting close. After about close to eight months of this, she just prayed that it would be over soon.
"… And to make things worse, yesterday I cried when I couldn't find my other shoe." Daphne said, halfheartedly laughing. "But Connor's been a really great roommate. You know that he's actually been helping be every day with breathing and coaching me. He really is something…"
Alice looked at Connor curiously.
"W'at?"
"You've been coaching her through her pregnancy."
"Somet'ing like t'at." Connor said, wiping his dirty hands on a rouge mechanics rag.
"I didn't know we were living with a Dr. Spock in the house."
"Please…" Connor waved her off. "Children on Vulcan aren't born. T'ey grow in pods."
"That's not what I meant—"
"Where did you learn all this from?" Alice said, still fascinated by the idea that there was something she did not know about Connor. After finding out that he was a saint, she felt like all of the mystery had been lost from their relationship, if you could even call it that. She rested her hand under her head and watched as the saint avoided most of her questions about how he had learned what he'd learned.
"Tell me."
"No."
"Tell me."
"Forget it."
"Tell me!"
"Fine, you want to know so bad. 'Ere, I'll tell you." Connor shouted in fake anger towards the two women. Connor leaned in real close, bracing himself over the table as if he was telling them a secret that should never be repeated. Alice leaned in closer, the curiosity in her eyes made them sparkle.
"I used to work on a sheep farm."
Alice's lips turned up in disgust, while Daphne recoiled, crossing her arms over her chest as hormonal tears began to rim around her eyes. While Alice took the moment to stand up and punch the joking Irishman on the shoulder, Daphne broke down in to a fit of tears.
She held her head in her hands and quietly sobbed. Alice returned from assaulting the saint and wrapped her arm around the woman, assuring her that everything was gonna be alright.
"Shhh… It's okay, now.." Alice said, sending the nasty look to Connor as he raised his arms in surrender. "You know Connor can be an ass."
"He – likened – me – to – sheep!" She said in between her sobs, her face had begun to turn red from the heavy crying.
Connor had dealt with Daphne's crying before, when she couldn't find a shoe, or when the line for dinner as too long. Once, she caught him sneaking out of the cell and thought it was because he couldn't 'stand a hysterical woman'. At one point he thought he was in a marriage with her – not relationship, marriage – because she'd excuse him of not wanting to be around her anymore, and that he couldn't stand to see her get so big. He had dealt with the crazy before.
He circled around to the other side of Daphne, wrapping his arm around her as she sobbed into his shoulder. He rubbed her back, comforting her as she mumbled incoherently into his shirt collar.
Red rounded the corner, bring the original group together once more as he turned his nose up at the two hugging Daphne. "What happened? The Mick make you cry again?" Red said briefly, taking his seat at the other table, sitting far away from the crying woman.
"I'm sorry – for crying – so much." She sniffed, wiping her eyes on her wrist. "I just – It's just so hard without Silas here – I'm not sure I can do it without him."
"I know, I know. We all miss Silas." Alice said, leaning her head on the pregnant woman's shoulders. "But you can't give up. In a couple more weeks, you are going to have a beautiful baby that is going to love you like crazy. You can't give up now."
"'It's my first child. What if I'm not ready for it? What if I need drugs, or the baby stops breathing -?"
"No, it's not gonna 'appen." Connor said. "You and your little Liam are gonna be fine."
"Yeah – wait, Liam?" Alice said, her nose turning up at the name. "That's the name you picked?"
"Yeah, why? W'at's wrong wit' Liam?"
"It's not even a full name! It is half a 'William'. If he ever meets a 'William', 'William' can actually say 'You're half the man I am'."
"And w'at names did you pick out, oh wise baby name-er?"
"If it's a boy, Wyatt; if it's a girl, then Minnie."
"'Wyatt'? W'at, is she giving birth to a cowboy now?"
"Shut up."
"No, seriously. 'Wyatt' the cowboy, and miss 'Minnie', the brothel owner. Sounds like an episode of Bonanza."
"And what would the name be if it was a girl?"
"Mabel."
"She's not giving birth to a cow, Connor!"
"Well 'Wyatt's gotta 'ave somet'ing on his farm!"
"Guys!" Daphne shouted over the two of them as they argued over who was right to name the child. Connor and Alice slowly paused, Alice getting a single slap to the arm as Daphne dried up her tears. "Silas and I already had names picked out."
"If it's a girl, then she'll be named Matilda Grace, for my mother and his grandmother – Tilly for short. If it's a boy then he'll be Samuel Ernest, for his great-grandfather."
Alice and Connor both grinned at the names. "Those are beautiful names." Alice said. "I can't wait to meet little Tilly or Sam."
Connor stood up from the table, placing a chaste kiss on Daphne's head as she laughed with Alice. He went to leave the cellblock to find Daryl, but not before giving Alice a kiss on the top of the head as well.
The innocent enough gesture turned Red's stomach on end as he gritted his teeth. The Irishman was halted by Red's shouts for an audience as he stood from his table, his beady eyes now bugging from behind his sun burnt face.
"Get back here!" Red shouted. Out of the little respect that he held for Alice's father, Connor walked back to the table, biting the inside of his cheek.
"I didn't think you'd be so quick to abandon your bitch."
Connor was seeing crimson as he looked at Red with a tight lip.
"W'at?"
"Your dog. I didn't think you'd abandon the dog so quickly, knowing how much you have in common." Red looked over the mutt giving lavished by the kids. "Beatin', bruised, angry, a killer –" Red watched Connor's nostrils flair. "And apparently a welcomed companion to my daughter."
Both Connor and Alice's eyes widened, their little secret out in the open as people began to leave their cells, getting a good view of the argument from a safe distance.
"W'at?"
"Oh don't play stupid now, Connor. You really think I didn't know?"
Alice stood up from the table as Daphne watched in horror.
"The little looks, the touches, the glances. How she snuck out almost every night not to comeback until the morning – you think I was born yesterday? I could smell you on her; cabbage and whisky."
Though his mouth shut, Connor's hand quickly balled up into a fist, veins popping out of his forearms in restraint.
Red laughed, wiping the sweat from his upper lip. "How does it feel to be ratted out, huh? How does it feel to know that your little romance is at an end? Hell, I bet you even had her begging like the bitch she is—"
Red's head bounced off the floor from the blow to the face, courtesy of Connor.
"Dad! Connor!"
Before he had a moment to react, the Irishman was on top of him, straddling him, as he beat the shit out of Red's face. The dog had begun to snarl and bark, much to the terror of the kids as Alice held him back from intervening. Connor hit left and right and left again, merciless as he bludgeoned the man with his fists, quickly coated in blood. Red fought back, grabbing Connor by a handful of hair and punching him until he heard the sound of bone breaking.
"Tyreese! Daryl!" Alice shouted over the commotion. Her shrieking voice echoed over the sounds of children crying, a dog barking, and the general upheaval of the survivors in the cellblock to the only men she could count on; Tyreese for his strength and calm temperament, Daryl for his ability to somewhat control the unstable Saint.
Daryl was the first one around the corner, running towards the fight in question, he grabbed Connor's shoulders and tried to pull the Irishman from his would-be victim. Connor fought back against everything; Red, the dog barking, Alice, and even Daryl. Connor continued to punch Red's face, his fat lip swelling beyond what was deemed normal, as he pulled away from Daryl's grip.
It wasn't until Rick and Tyreese rounded the corner did they actually manage to pull the crazed Irishman off of Red. The dog had stopped barking, though it's body language still said attack as Alice ran over to her father, looking over his busted face. His lip had swollen like a balloon, his beady eye hidden behind the swelling and discoloration of a black eye. Numerous cuts and scrapes littered his face – Connor's face mirroring Red's.
"What the hell is going on here?!" Rick shouted, his gun drawn as he paced the runway. Both men took time before a breather, but neither one stopped the staring contest. Rick snarled at the two of them, thoroughly tired of their shit. "What did I tell you?" Rick said, looking at Alice on the ground.
She looked just as bewildered as everyone else when Red slapped her hand away from tending to his injuries. He stood up on his own, wobbling a bit on his own two feet when he got into Officer Friendly's face. "What's going on here is that this Leprechaun dick has been fucking my daughter, so I wanted to beat the hell out of him. You got a problem with that?"
"That's not how we do things here."
"And look where it's got us." Red said, staring down the leader of the group.
Daryl held Connor by his shoulders, holding him in a modified chokehold as Connor's breath returned to normal. His heartbeat lowered as the violent tunnel vision he had experienced faded. For what he'd done, who he had hurt, he didn't regret it for a second. He wanted Red to bleed, he wanted him to hurt, and he wanted him to feel his heartbeat in his swollen face. When a man calls out his own daughter as a 'bitch', he is no longer a man – he is an animal that needed to be stopped.
"Uh guys?" Daphne squeaked from the corner.
From the table, Daphne looked down at herself in shock, her previously floral dress, the only thing that fit her size, was wet from the waist down, a small puddle of water around her feet. It was a relief, she felt before panic set it. Had she just pissed herself in the commotion? She looked down at the puddle of water at her feet, watching as blood began to trickle down her leg.
With pure terror in her eyes, she looked back up at the group. "My water broke."
I am so sorry for the long delay.
I've been super busy with work and attempting to have a social life.
But, through the grace of God, I hurt my back and have been bed ridden.
So, look forward to new updates!
~pure.