This is the first half of the last episode. Are you guys excited? I am. Unfortuantely, this is all the boring stuff and the explanations and the set up. All the meaty goodness is in the next installment.

They entered cautiously, ready and on the look out for more walkers. The place was huge, the ceiling seemingly a mile high above their heads. Though they expected some kind of ambush the place was surprisingly void of life.

Except for one man with a gun pointed at them, half hidden in shadow.

"Anybody infected?" the man called.

They exchanged nervous looks, unsure what to say. Daryl quickly cocked back his crossbow, raising it up, ready to take out the man's hand if he tried to shoot.

Rick swallowed audibly, "No."

Connor stepped forward and dropped to one knee, laying both his pistols and his bow on the floor as a white flag. He stood and pulled up his shirt, revealing his stomach.

"I'm bit."

They heard the man flip the safety off his gun, the weapon rising to his shoulder as he aimed. Murphy shielded his brother as best he could, though the blonde hissed at him to stop.

"You better lower that fuckin' thing!" Daryl barked.

"I was bitten yesterday and my fever just broke," Connor declared, pushing his brother out of harm's way.

The older man actually hesitated, "Is that true?"

Rick didn't dare lower his gun, "We all saw it happen and he's been sweating it out ever since. He needs help. He could turn anytime."

The man seemed intrigued; he lowered his gun, at least.

"Why are you here?" he inquired. "What do you want?"

"A chance," the sheriff confessed.

"That's an awful lot these days," the man gestured. "What with an infected man in your group."

"I know. But you're all we have."

The man started sizing them up, taking in their thin forms and filthy faces.

"You all submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission," he waved the barrel of his gun at the twins, "and you-"

"You pull out anything bigger than a needle and I'll gut you," Murphy growled. Connor grabbed him by the shoulder and the back of the neck, whispering for him to calm down.

"Who are you two?" the older man finally asked.

"I'm Connor, and this is Murphy," the Irishman replied, voice level. "He's my brother."

"Brothers..." he murmured, then cleared his voice and spoke up. "I'll need more blood from the two of you."

Connor squeezed his brother's arm in relief, pulling him to his side. They stayed silent, but when Rick looked to them for their response they nodded.

"They can do that," Rick answered. "We all can."

"If you have stuff to bring in, do it now," the CDC man called. "Hurry. Once this door closes, it stays closed."

xXx

Dr. Edwin Jenner was the name of their savior.

They reached the elevator when the first acknowledgment came. Lori stopped Carl from entering, a pinched look on her face. She was hesitant, scared, and the others stopped immediately.

"What's wrong?" Rick asked, stroking down her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she began, voice wavering, "but I don't want the kids riding in a small space with Connor. I know it sounds ridiculous, but-"

"Don't beat yourself up," Connor cut her off, smiling as best he could. "I understand, its' alright."

Admittedly, Sophia looked scared but Carl had his chin up defiantly.

"I don't care," the boy stated boldly, "Connor's our friend, he won't hurt us."

Connor knelt down in front of the kid, ignoring Lori's slight flinch, "Your mum is right. Don't you trust a walker, don't you turn your back on it. And never trust a person's who's bit."

"But you said you were okay," Carl's eyes were glassy from restrained tears. "You said the fever broke!"

"Maybe the good doctor here will have something that can tell me if I'm better or not, hm?" Connor ruffled through his hair, finally getting the kid to smile. "There's a good lad."

"If you're not okay, we'll have to shoot you.

The solemn tone of his young voice made Murphy suck in a sharp breath, but his twin only kept smiling.

"I know," Connor stood. "Trust me."

The rest got out of the elevator but Daryl lingered, his forearm firmly planted on the door. He was glaring at the doctor, shotgun in his hand and crossbow strapped to his back.

"Doctor always go around packing heat like that?"

"Stop," Connor passed by him, glaring, "I said it was fine."

"How do I know he won't off you on the way up there?" he accused sharply.

"Then it'd be for the best," he snapped, the redneck's face fell. "Wouldn't it?"

Daryl dropped his arm, stepping back to let the twins enter with the doctor.

"See you on the bottom," Connor leaned against the back of the elevator. "And stop frownin', you'll get wrinkles."

"Big woman's blouse," Murphy insulted, ducking his head and smirking as the redneck sputtered. The doors closed between them, cutting through the mirth like a knife. They hadn't been moving for a moment before Jenner spoke up.

"Are you telling the truth?" the doctor demanded. "About the fever and when you got bit?"

"We are," Murphy promised. "If we were lying, we would've left last night while the others were asleep."

Jenner started grilling them on exactly how long Connor had been afflicted, what had happened during the fever, how bad the pain had been.

"I had delusions and I couldn't get cool," the blonde tilted his head back against the elevator. "That's all I know."

Jenner frowned, "How long were you born apart?"

Murphy shifted his bag higher up on his shoulder, "Ma said about three minutes."

"Twins," Jenner ran his tongue over his teeth. "Fascinating. Exact DNA, exact reactions...this is a rare opportunity."

"You're not experimenting on us," Connor scoffed. "They won't let you."

"No, of course not, there's no time," the doctor waved it off, "but maybe we can learn something before you turn."

The twins shared a look, their hands meeting between them, fingers mingling. Connor brought their hands up to let his brother touch his forehead. Murphy could feel the knot of tension in his stomach slowly unraveling. Jenner watched them in the reflection of the elevator, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Twins, one infected, and they were almost ridiculously in sync.

"One more thing," he added.

"What?"

"I want to do another test on you, Mr-?"

"What kind of test?" Connor cut him off.

"A biopsy."

"A what?" Murphy snapped.

"It'll only take a few minutes," Jenner explained. "It's practically painless."

"No cutting me open, Doc," Connor sighed in relief, he was glad it wasn't anything more serious, "I'm not so pretty on the inside."

"Deal," the doctor nodded, lips pursed. "No cutting."

xXx

The elevator door opened for the group, only Jenner stood there without his gun. He led them along a long white hallway, explaining how far they were underground and how a person just got used to it after a while. He called for this Vi to turn on the lights in the big room and the shadows at the end of the hall disappeared. The "big room" ended up being a rounded room with tons of desks and a huge screen at the far side. The good doctor had spread out an array of medical supplies over two of the desks and that's where the twins were, Connor sitting atop one of them. He was taking off his shirt, his twin helping him to avoid agitating his bite.

Daryl rushed forward, fingers tight on the shotgun, "Hey, what the fuck is this?"

"Relax," Connor tossed aside the dark material, "the doctor here's just gonna give me a once over. He said he wanted to give me a...a what was it?"

"Fine-needle aspiration biopsy," Jenner recited easily, flipping open a case to reveal a high grade medical kit.

"What's he gonna do?" Daryl asked, eyeing the supplies.

"Why don't you all take a seat while I deal with Connor here?" the doctor suggested, pulling out a thermometer. "Tilt your head."

While the group set their stuff down and started settling in chairs, Jenner got to work taking the Irishman's temperature then his blood pressure. He asked him seemingly pointless questions about his diet and where he grew up, needling him about any medical history he shared with his family. Genetics, from recessive eye color to repeating patterns of diabetes. Connor mostly just scratched his head and answered as best as he could but he didn't know half of it.

Jenner was drawing blood when he finally got to the heart of the matter, "How do walkers react to you?"

"That's a tough one," Connor winced at the bite of the needle. "They're weird toward us. It's not that they stay away, 's just that...sometimes they don't try to eat us. Sometimes, not always. It's strange, I can't describe it really."

"Is that how you've stayed alive this long?" the doctor sounded fascinated, an edge of surprise present.

"We ran, just like everybody else," the blonde scoffed. "We're not special, doctor, I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"Bullshit," T-Dog spat.

"Why the fuck isn't he changing?" Shane barked from his seat, resting his folded hands atop his shot gun. "He was practically incapacitated this morning. I've seem them change in hours, it shouldn't take this long."

Jenner's smile was strained, "Eager to shoot him, are we?"

Daryl set his gun aside, sliding off the desk he'd perched on. He dared to walk over and put the back of his hand to the blonde's head, recalling how his flesh had been burning earlier.

"He ain't even hot," the redneck announced.

"Way to boost a man's ego," Connor grinned, getting the other's lips to quirk up.

Jenner put the blood aside and started prepping for the biopsy. He found the long, thin needle he needed and pulled out the entire box of Isopropyl swabs. He connected the needle to an empty syringe and that's when Daryl felt his panic start to return.

"What the hell are you gonna do?" he questioned.

"I need the purest sample of hormones I can get and the only way to do that..." Jenner held the needle up to the light, tapping the container with his finger, "Is to take fluid from the thymus gland. Plus I can get the best look at his T-cells. Maybe they'll reveal why it's taking him so long to turn."

"Ain't that stuff in his blood?" Rick seemed unsettled. "I don't want any unnecessary procedures-"

"Every procedure is necessary," Jenner interjected, "I assure you."

The other man snapped his mouth shut.

"The blood's contaminated with the virus. I need a better sample," Jenner explained more, moving to stand beside the Irishman. "Neck or chest?"

"Chest," Connor answered, sitting back a little to give the man room. "Everything there already hurts, it's a bit numb."

Murphy dropped to a knee beside his brother, putting a hand on his leg. Connor laid his palm on the juncture of the brunette's shoulder and neck, closing his eyes as Jenner brushed one of the alcohol pads along the middle of his chest. The doctor took a deep breath before easing the needle into the Irishman's chest, piercing the flesh and pushing with a steady pace. Carl kept watching, fascinated, but Sophia had to look away and press her face into her mother's shirt.

"Hasn't he been through enough?" Carol demanded, cringing.

"Maybe it'll help," Jacqui insisted, hoping she was right.

"I'm fine, ladies, doesn't hurt one bit," Connor lied, ending in a hiss as something inside him gave way. He squeezed his brother harder, Murphy didn't even wince.

"It just pierced the thymus, it'll only be a minute now," Jenner started to talk him through it but stopped. "Huh."

He pushed the needle in farther, Connor actually cried out.

Daryl got up close to the CDC man, "Gentle your touch up there, Doc."

"It's just-" Jenner's brow furrowed up, "It's not my specialty, I only had a few years of medical practice, but your thymus should be smaller than this. I should be at the edge, I thought I wasn't going to hit it at all, but it's...bigger. At your age it should've shrunk."

"Strange and all," Connor cracked an eye open to give him a glare before clenching it shut again. "Just hurry up, will ya?"

Jenner slowly pulled up the plunger, painfully extracting a nearly-clear fluid. Once it was full he slid the needle out, blood bubbling up after it. Murphy grabbed some gauze and laid it over it, letting it sop up the trickling blood. Daryl made a face at the sight, glancing over at his crossbow. Lori felt a little nauseated and turned her head away, covering her mouth.

Jenner busied himself injecting the thymus fluid into a vial, setting it aside with the blood thoroughly capped, "They need to set for a while. Let's get the rest of you."

Lori dropped her hand to lay over her chest, where the needle had pierced Connor, "We all don't need to get that treatment, do we?"

"No," he sat down at a different desk, witheverything he'd need to get a sample from all of them. "If you can come up, one at a time."

One by one, they sat down in front of the doctor and let him take a vial of their blood. A lot of them stumbled back to their seats, woozy from the loss and from not eating for so long. Daryl kept his eyes on Connor the whole time, watching him put back on his shirt and ease off the desk. He didn't even seem to register the procedure, going over to the Irishman the moment he was done.

"What'd that fucker do to you?" Daryl laid a hand over his shoulder, shielding him from the doctor's view. "You hurtin'?"

"Yeah, I still got a big chomp mark in me and just got a hole pushed through my chest," Connor snarked but he didn't pull away, "But otherwise, 'm okay."

"Don't let him take anythin' else, you don't need to prove yourself to him," the redneck could see a speck of blood blooming on the other man's shirt. "I don't want him stickin' you again."

"No more," the blonde lightly rubbed his chest. "I'm too sore for anymore 'a this."

After Jenner finished taking each person's blood, he lined them up in alphabetical order. He started fussing with the other vials, taking samples from some to put under a row of microscopes.

"What are you doin' over there, Doc?" Shane asked, putting pressure on the crook of his arm to stop any blood from flowing.

"I'm comparing the twins' blood and using Rick's as a control," Jenner prepared each slide as carefully as he could. "Connor's should look different from – I'm sorry?"

"Murphy," the darker twin hopped up onto one of the desks, swinging his legs.

"Right. And Rick's should look just like Murphy's. When I add the virus-" the group seemed to jerk back when he raised a dark vial, obviously a blood with concentrated infection. "It should eat up all three. Just give me a moment. Vi, put results from lenses one through three on the big screen."

The screen flickered to life, cut into three slices.

"Magnify to blood cell level."

The last two slices looked normal, but there was something wrong in the first panel. Something was moving around with the blood cells. It was dark and rough looking, more ragged than their more rounded red counterpart.

"Mother of God," Jenner breathed, watching the screen with a single-mindedness that was almost scary. "I'd never thought I'd see it again..."

"What?" Connor drawled, leaning against the desk his brother sat on. "What's me blood doin' up there?"

"Your blood? Nothing," Jenner flicked his fingers dismissively. "Your T-Cells, your red blood cells...they are fighting."

"Don't all bodies fight infection?" Glenn piped up. "That's what a fever is, isn't it? A signal that your body is fighting?"

"Yes," Jenner glanced over his shoulder, "but for once, the body's winning."

It took a few moments but some globs of clear came through the blood, soaking up ragged cells and taking them inside.

"What is this?" Dale demanded, mouth gaping.

"I've only seen it twice, both subjects had larger thymus glands as well," Jenner proclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Two of our scientists were attacked outside and submitted themselves to tests, to help further the research, but something was wrong. They got the fever...and it broke. They never progressed to event one of the change, they just stopped. They were weak but they were fine."

Andrea almost couldn't believe it, "Why?"

"We don't know."

T-Dog huffed, "Take a guess."

"Connor's T-cells are just stronger or maybe they're smarter. Maybe there was a lesser strain of this sickness and they were exposed to it young, maybe it developed from a more well known virus. We just couldn't be sure, we ran out of time," the doctor scrubbed his fingertips over his forehead. "With only a few cases, I can only make an educated assumption that there are more people like them out there. Some, like Connor, can live through a bite."

Rick's face brightened, "So he's not infected?"

"Not at this rate," Jenner sighed, though there was a curve to his lips now. "He should be back to normal soon."

"You little shit!" Daryl howled in laughter, grabbing Connor in a headlock and digging his knuckles into his hair. "You had us ready to shoot you for nothin'!"

Connor tried to shove him off playfully, "Ya think it was fun for me? Get off, Squirrel boy!"

Murphy, who had been so quiet, spoke up, "What happens when you add the blood together?"

"Nothing," Jenner plucked up the vials from the clear thymus and the infected blood "but maybe..."

Jenner ejected both Murphy's and Rick's slides, putting a drop of virus in each one. Once they snapped back in place, the effects were instant. Murphy's T-cells , even outside the body, started to absorb the ragged virus cells.

"Shit," Daryl let the blonde go. "Little fuckers are quick."

"Why, though?" Jenner turned, eyeing the darker twin. "Were you bit?"

Murphy looked sheepish as he pulled up his shirt, showing off the faint red ring of scars left from his attack.

"I thought it was a dog bite," Daryl muttered, whistling under his breath. "Damn."

"And you didn't think to tell us this when we let you in?" Shane's tone was sharp, biting. "You think this a game? That it's funny to keep stuff like this from us?"

The Irishman rolled his eyes, "Would you have believed me?"

Shane's jaw ticked beneath his skin. He had nothing to say.

"No we wouldn't have," Andrea finally admitted.

T-Dog had the decency to look ashamed of himself.

Rick frowned, "And mine?"

Jenner added a drop of the infected blood to Rick's control sample, when he snapped it shut it they could see the reaction. The ragged blood cells absorbed everything, turning them black and destroying their entire structure.

"Congratulations, Officer Grimes, you're normal."

"This is complete bullshit," Shane cursed harshly, "they don't get mauled, and when they do, they don't turn. Why do the rest of us have to die and these two and a handful of others get to live?"

"Genetics," Jenner stated simply.

"I have to agree with Shane, if just a little," Dale leaned on his gun. "Why couldn't Amy live through her attack? Why couldn't Jim? Or any of the others? Why did a whole world of people have to turn while a special few walked away?"

"I think you mistake me," Jenner tsked, capping the virus tube. "When they die, they'll turn."

Connor's breath left him like he'd been punched, stomach bottoming out.

"One of the men who got bit didn't turn but found himself with a crushed lung. He lived just long enough to get better before both collapsed. He suffocated at his workstation, just fell over, right there," the doctor pointed. "An hour later he got right back up and tried to eat his assistant. The fever may not take those special few, but injuries will. Just because they crawl away doesn't mean they'll stand again."

"We were lucky," Connor nodded, though there was a tang of bile on the back of his tongue. "Our attacks were isolated. One walker, one bite. But those things are still strong."

Murphy rubbed a hand over his bite scar, "Don't think I wanna survive gettin' my eyes scratched out or my arms tore off."

Shane seemed disgruntled but a bit more satisfied.

"I, for one, think it's wonderful that a few of us can get through this," Lori declared, laying her hand in Carl's hair. "If it was any of us we'd be beyond thankful. I'd be a sobbing mess on the floor if I had been bit and got a second chance. If it were our kids, our families...we wouldn't be so hostile."

Walsh finally dropped his head in resignation, "If it were me...yeah, I'd be grateful."

"I'd give it to you if I could," Murphy spread his arms out, his smile betraying a bitterness he didn't feel. "Any of you. If there was a way, I'd do it."

"Is there?" Carol inquired, "A way to make a vaccine, I mean."

"I'd need months, electricity, supplies, manpower," Jenner listed as he slowly tipped the thymus fluid into Rick's sample, and once the slide slapped shut they could see the T-cells struggling and half succeeding in destroying the virus cells. "Artificial catalysts. More than I have...more than I could get."

"Does that mean you're okay?" Carl stepped away from his mother. "Will Connor be okay?"

"Yes," Jenner smiled, shoving the cork back into the half empty tube, "Your friend will live, like his brother did. There won't be any need for those guns."

Carl burst into a run. Connor barely had time to brace himself before he was snagged around the waist by strong little arms, crushed in a hug. The boy sniffled against his stomach. The Irishman picked him up with only a little cringe of pain, trying to both reassure him and keep him away from the bite on his stomach.

"Hey, hey, hey now," he cooed, holding him just as firmly. "None of that. No tears."

"We j-just got you back," the boy was trying to stifle himself but his breath was catching hard.

Lori smiled, tears in her eyes, and Connor shot her a smile back. Sophia ran over too, doll still cradled in her arms even as she hugged him around the stomach. He put Carl down and hugged them both, letting them bury their faces in his shoulders. He'd never been so humbled as he was by their youthful concern for almost a near stranger. He'd written himself off as disposable to the group and here the younglings had been worried for him the whole time.

"Stop it, now," he pleaded, his own eyes wet as he found himself overwhelmed by their concern. "You're too worried about an old man like me."

Sophia lifted her head, tears flowing in thick rivulets down her face. She looked up at Murphy and the brunette smiled sweetly, shooting her a wink that made her smile.

"I know what this is," Connor cupped the back of their heads, giving them a soft smile as they looked to him. "All these waterworks aren't for me. I bet you're just worked up because you're hungry. Am I right?"

Sophia laughed as he tickled her belly, Carl grinned as his own was poked. They wiped at the tears on their faces, trying to seem strong.

"See? Ya little fakers, you just want food," he patted their cheeks before standing up, "Doctor, now that we know we're all better and healthy and set right, how about some grub? Couple of us haven't eaten in a few days."

The older man took in the group's hopeful looks and nodded, "I think we can find something."

xXx

They feasted like they hadn't in months, eating and drinking their fill with abandon. Wine and whiskey were passed around in fancy glasses that had collected dust on the bottoms. They all sat down at the biggest table they could find. Those who couldn't acquire a seat took spare desks nearby and pushed them close, perching or leaning against them. Glenn and Murphy sat together on top of a long desk, beers in their hands and half-full plates beside them. Connor stood at the table, shoveling more food onto people's plates the moment he saw they were finished. Daryl stood close behind him, one hand on the desk while the other let him nurse a bottle of liquor he'd claimed as his own.

Dale was serving the wine, "You know, in Italy, children have a little bit of wine with dinner. And in France."

Lori accepted the glass, laughing more freely than she'd allowed herself in weeks, "Well, when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some then."

"What's it gonna hurt?" Rick laughed around a mouthful of chicken. "Come on. Come on."

Lori relented much to the group's delight, even T-Dog toasted it.

"There you are, young lad," Dale poured some wine into the boy's cup, letting him get a taste. "Tell me what you think."

They waited in silent moments as Carl took a sip, instantly pulling a face and setting it down.

"Bleh!"

The group erupted in laughter.

"That's my boy," Lori took the rest of the wine and dumped it in her glass. "Alcohol is terrible for you but it's great for adults."

"That tastes nasty."

"Well, just stick to soda pop there, bud," Shane advised.

"Not you, Glenn," Daryl countered, coming up to the table to grab himself another wing.

"What?" the Korean questioned, looking down at his beer.

"Keep drinkin', little man," Daryl demanded after a heavy pull from the bottle, "I wanna see how red your face can get."

"I second that," Murphy waited until the other took a drink before he reached up, tilting the bottle back even further to encourage it. "Keep goin'."

"Drink, drink, drink," Connor chanted in a low, teasing voice.

"You too, Clover," he elbowed the blonde, "Show some Irish pride."

"Shots!" Jacqui raised her wine, "I dare you."

"I double dog dare you," Glenn called after he coughed the beer out of his lungs.

"Can't turn that down, can I?" Connor grabbed a bottle of whiskey and some shot glasses out of the box they'd found the liquor in. He lined up the glasses in a neat row.

"Drinkin' is bad, kids, don't you do this," he poured the booze in them, a little sloppily thanks to the bit of wine he'd already taken in. "Unless you're a professional."

After a dramatic count down from the others, Connor started taking them one by one. When he finished he slapped the wet glass on the table upside down, taking up the next one in the same motion. Five shots later he threw his hands up triumphantly, swaying dangerously on the balls of his feet. He almost fell but Daryl was quick, catching him just beneath the arm and around the waist.

"Okay there, Conn?" Murphy asked, ready to go to his twin if his wound was acting up.

Connor looked even more flushed than before, tan cheeks ruddy from the alcohol and some embarrassment. He looked up at Daryl, barely making an effort to stand on his own.

"Not quite in shape for that," the Irishman was breathless. "Went straight to my head."

"I think you're just a light weight and you're savin' face," T-Dog slapped the table, grinning easily. "You don't wanna admit you're the one Irish guy who can't hold their liquor."

Connor laughed with him, "Whelp, you got me."

"Get some more food in ya, soak it up," Daryl urged him to sit back down on his chair, pushing his plate in front of him. Connor batted his hand away playfully.

"I'm not a cripple."

They grinned at each other, the redneck slapping him lightly upside the head.

"Children," Lori faux-scolded. "Eat your dinner before you horse around."

"Yes, ma'am," Connor saluted while the redneck hid his little smile. "Can do."

Rick grandly toasted their host, everyone raising their glasses in agreement.

"So when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, Doc?" Shane's words cut through the happy shouts like a hot knife, silencing their laughing tongues. "All the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?"

"We're celebrating, Shane," Rick sat back down, smile gone. "Don't need to do this now."

"Really?" the dark haired man looked haunted, hollow, almost dangerous with the passive lilt of his voice. "This is why we're here, right? This was your move – supposed to find all the answers. Instead, we found out we've got a couple of miracles with us and we found him. Found one man. Why?"

"Shane," Murphy sighed against the rim of his beer. "Christ."

"When things got bad, a lot of people just left," Jenner began to explain, sitting down his own glass of wine. "Went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted."

Shane sat back in his seat, a faint smirk of disbelief curling his lips, "Every last one?"

"No," there was a line of steel in the doctor's voice now, "many couldn't face walking out the door. They...opted out."

The finality of his words made most reach for their wine again.

"There was a rash of suicides. That was a bad time."

"But you didn't leave," Andrea pointed out, "Why?"

"I just kept working," the older man rubbed the back of his neck, fingers lingering along the base of his hair, "hoping to do some good."

Glenn looked down at his beer, shaking his head, "Dude, you are such a buzz-kill."

xXx

Jenner led them down a hall full of comfy looking offices with plush couches. He explained that the normal housing was down and he showed where the rec room was.

"If you shower, go easy on the hot water."

Glenn turned, grinning at the twins, "Hot water?"

T-Dog's own teeth were flashing, "That's what the man said."

The group was quick to run and claim rooms, thinking only of being clean.

xXx

Connor and Murphy dumped their stuff in a room together, refusing to separate even at the offer of showers. They raced to pull off their clothes, unashamed (as always) of their naked state as they fought to squeeze into the stall. They ran it hot, squealing and hollering as they struggled to adjust to the temperature. Without warning they started laughing, loud brays of noise that bounced off the tiles until it echoed in an infinite loop. They each grabbed a wash cloth and some soap and started scrubbing, first themselves then each other in all those hard-to-reach spots. Off-color jokes that weren't even funny started pouring from their lips, their moods lightening with each minute spent under the hot spray.

"What's worse than a baby stapled to a tree? One baby stapled to ten trees!"

"A horse walks into a bar. The bartender goes, 'Why the long face?'. The horse says, 'I jus' realized alcoholism is tearin' my family apart'."

Connor beat his fist against the wall as he laughed out, "Why did Sally fall out the swing?"

"Why, dear brother?"

"Because she didn't have no arms or legs!"

Murphy roared, digging the sudsy cloth into the filthy dip of his brother's back.

"Knock-knock."

"Who's there?" Murphy sang, scrubbing off the dried sweat from the tan skin.

"Not Sally."

They ended up leaning against each other, barely able to make a sound from their breathlessness. It was a true moment of pure delight, enjoying one another and letting themselves go for the first time in a long while. They had to be on guard with the group but now, with the door locked, they were free.

"Turn around, let me gets yers," Connor commanded, spinning his brother around. He started to really scrub along his back, getting off the grime even the river couldn't get.

"Oi!" Murphy tried to arch away but the blonde held him firm by one shoulder, "Yer scrubbin' too hard."

"Aw shut up, yer filthy," he countered, "it's practically stickin' to you, damn."

"See how you like it!"

Murphy turned back, rinsing his cloth for a moment before rubbing it across his twin's face. Connor frowned and flinched and griped, but he didn't pull away. His hair was scrubbed too after some shampoo was dumped into it. Connor scowled as he forced beneath the spray, suds trailing all down his body as he was rinsed clean once more.

Murphy kept his eyes on his twin's face, watching the little distressed expressions with a smile.

"There's my pretty brother!" Murphy declared while the other shook his head. "Now maybe you can keep up with me, though we both know I got all the looks."

Connor spit water in his face, getting the indignant sputter he'd been looking for.

They continued on like that for a few minutes, leaning against the wall once they were clean just to enjoy the hot spray while they had it.

"I coulda' lost you in the city."

Connor looked over at his twin, the other was looking down at the floor.

"They told me they found you surrounded by walkers and I couldn't breathe," Murphy confessed, "I can't believe they know about us now."

"Well," Connor thumped his head against the stall, "they were bound to find out sooner or later if we stuck with 'em. Least they seem okay with it. They don't want to kill us."

"Unlike the last group."

They both went quiet, matching pensive looks on their faces.

They wondered, in silence, when the group would get around to asking about that as well.

xXx

Shane lied to himself when he said he'd only lay on the couch for a minute, just for a nap. The moment his head laid on the cushion he was out, slipping off to sleep without so much as a prayer.

Someone touched his face. He opened his eyes and there was Rick, clean shaven and looking like the man he'd been partnered with years ago. The other man was smiling carelessly, touching his cheek with all the reverence he used to have. Shane grabbed him by the shoulder and brought him down into a smooth kiss. But a kiss wasn't enough. He grabbed Grimes and forced him into his lap, letting him feel just how much he missed him. They made out like teenagers, pawing gracelessly and rolling into each other for any hint of friction.

The hand in his hair unclenched, softened, barely ruffling the tresses at all. Shane pried his eyes open again and ripped his mouth away, gaping at the sight. It was Lori, wide eyed and flushed. She was in his lap now, wiggling into him when he stopped.

"What's wrong?" she purred, slim hips almost disappearing in his palms.

"Where's Rick?" he asked, sounding sluggish.

Lori shook her head, dark locks falling over her pale shoulders, "You don't want him."

"I want it all."

He flipped them around, smoothing her out on the bed. Bed? Since when was there a bed in here? Where'd the couch go? But her kisses stopped his racing mind, blurring up his thoughts until he sank into the soft line of her body. He ripped away from her mouth only to latch onto her neck, her collarbone, across the swell of her breast. His fingers slid blindly up her thigh, finding her folds and slipping in with no resistance. She was warm and the sounds she made were the sweetest, though he almost wished for something tighter and darker with stubble. But he banished those thoughts, nipping at her belly button as he pulled his fingers free. He went to spread her legs but there was something different about her now. She was more aggressive, the hands on his shoulders were starting to claw and bare down with new strength. It was good but it wasn't her.

Shane pulled back, discovering shorter hair and a hint of beard now. Murphy grinned down at him, bright-eyed and rolling into his touch.

"What are you waitin' for, big man?"

Shane could only gape. The Irishman took things into his own hands and rolled them, putting the older man flat on his back while he straddled his hips. He held onto those lithe hips as Murphy sank down on his cock, taking him as easily as if he'd been stretched and slicked. Shane would've been ashamed of the moan he released but he couldn't get past the tight heat, the confident rock of his hips, the way the man flushed so prettily on top of him. Murphy's lilt was seeping into his moans and it was one of the hottest things he'd ever heard. The slighter man sunk all the way down, taking every inch like he was born to do it. The cheeky mick actually winked at him, dipping down for a kiss.

"I'd rather get picked third than not at all."

Shane clenched his eyes shut, sucking in as much breath as he could, but when he opened them everything was gone. He was on the couch and no one was there, the door was even shut. The only change was the bulge in his jeans, the throb of unresolved desire enough to make him dizzy. As he sat up it dawned on him just what he'd been dreaming about. Rick was nothing new and Lori didn't surprise him, but Murphy? That little mouthy shit that followed Glenn and Daryl around? One half of those twin bastards with their immunity and bright blue eyes. Fucking Murphy with the way he flirted and the pink of his mouth. He was too old to look as fresh as he did, still gangly limbed and boyish. At least Connor looked like a man, Murphy still had a softness to him and when he bent over he seemed to be just begging for someone to grab his hips and fuck the-

Shane grabbed the bottle off the floor, taking a long drink that nearly had him retching. He kept sipping at the liquor all the way to the shower, shedding his clothes like they'd done the wrong. He turned the water on as hot as he could, refusing to think about his dream as he drank and scrubbed his body. He tried to wash away the touch but it kept coming back, skimming right across his flesh. Ghost fingers, still lingering. Lori's wet heat, Murphy's sharp teeth on his lip-

"Fuck!" Shane banged his head off the side of the shower, bottle almost half empty now.

He couldn't do this.

Hope Shane's dream wasn't too confusing. I'm trying not to use italics for dreams because I always skip them in story. Italics is hard to read and bold looks childish, so I thought I'd just make it obvious when it began and ended.

Now's the time to start thinking about what you want to see for Season 2. Watch it, think it over. What would you like to see the boys get into? Because a lot happens in that season, even if they are in the same place, and I probably won't write everything because that's boring with all the non-slash/non-plot-essential things. I'm more than welcome to suggestions for future chapters, I always am. This is our journey together, not just mine. A story belongs to the readers.