setting: episode 5 "Say The Word"

Damnation

Chapter 25 - Family

When they finally got back to the prison it was dark outside. Daryl grabbed their bag and was the first to run inside, and for a moment Connor just stood next to his friend's bike and stared at the dark silhouette of the prison building. He still couldn't stop thinking about Rick's breakdown, and when he looked at the spot where he had seen their leader fall to the ground it felt like he was still lying there. The Irishman sighed and let his gaze wander, only to fix his eyes on the door to the cell block Lori had died in. Was she still in there? Dead, maybe undead and staggering around? Where was Rick? How was he going to react? Part of him just wanted to leave again. He just needed a break from everything, but in the end he knew that Daryl wouldn't ever let him leave.

"Everything alright?" he heard Glenn ask and looked up in surprise.

The Korean made his way to the door to their cell block and looked at him. Connor sighed and decided to follow him.

"Aye. Been quiet. Nothing unusual happened."

They entered the cell block and heard the little girl crying inside. Connor didn't know what her problem was, if she was hurt or just hungry, but it still crept him out. Crying was never a good sign, and he was glad that Maggie and Beth were still with them. And now that he thought about it he had to admit that Daryl had been right about the whole thing. He didn't want to imagine the cries that could've rung through these halls if they had kept the baby waiting any longer just because of his stupid decision to try to leave. Daryl was right. This little girl was still alive, and she certainly needed protection and food. Not only because she was a newborn, but because she was Lori's newborn. It didn't matter if it was his fault that her mother was dead. He owed Rick's wife that. He needed to protect her little girl now, either to make up for the death he had caused or for the life he had failed to save. The Irishman made his way down the stairs and was even more surprised when he realized that the women weren't holding the newborn, but Daryl. Connor tried his best not to stand there and watch in utter surprise, but he just couldn't keep his mouth shut, especially now that the girl stopped crying in his friend's arms. Beth and Maggie were preparing the formula they had found, and the blonde approached them and folded his arms awkwardly.

"Is that the right stuff? I wasn't sure when I found it, not exactly an expert there.." he murmured and Maggie placed a hand on his shoulder.

"It's perfect. Thank you."

Connor nodded and withdrew to the back of the room so he could watch the whole scenario in silence and without being in the way. He leaned against the wall and sat down on the ground, messaging his temples with a soft moan. Beth handed Daryl the baby bottle and the hunter tried to get the little girl to drink.
"Come on. Come on" he demanded and hushed and rocked the newborn, and when she finally started drinking he let out a surprised chuckle. Daryl looked at all of them and seemed very proud of himself, and when his gaze met Connor's he grinned even more. The Irishman tried to stay grumpy and remind himself of everything that had happened today, all the people they had lost, the fact that he had almost got killed, that his head hurt like hell and that he had almost left the group, but even that couldn't keep him from smiling back.

It was both incredibly nice and sad to see Daryl holding a baby. Nice because they really needed this sort of thing right now. After all the deaths there was finally some new and fresh life in their midst, and after losing so many children they finally had a new one, a baby. He had missed child's laughter and even the crying, so Lori's baby was definitively a good thing. But at the same time it just made him sad as well. Because this was the one thing he had always tried to forget, to ignore. He watched how Daryl rocked the child and fed her and he couldn't stop thinking about the one thing he would never ever be. An uncle. He would never see that proud smile on his brother's face, he would never see him rocking their own flesh and blood, the next generation of their family. There would never ever be a new MacManus, he would never be a father, never be an uncle, simply because he would never bring a child into this fucked up world and because Murphy would never have any kids. Because his brother was dead. And he was the very last member of their family. He knew that he and Murphy had sworn that they would never get married, that they would never be in a real relationship with women, simply because they had each other. But now that his twin was gone he didn't have anything left at all. Although he still had Daryl and the others, it would never ever replace that bond, his real family. And although there were so many people and a child so close to him he felt terribly alone all of a sudden.

"She got a name yet?" he heard his friend ask and looked at Carl as well.

Rick's son shook his head.

"Not yet. But I was thinking...maybe Sofia? Then there's Carol, too.."

Connor could see how the look on Daryl's face changed drastically. Even after all these months he still hated to be reminded of Sofia, and now that Carol was gone it only made it worse. The hunter couldn't snap or leave or get angry though, because of the fragile newborn in his arms, and the Irishman was quite surprised how calm his friend could stay. The look on Daryl's face changed eve more, to a point were the hunter actually looked upset.

"And... Andrea...Amy...Jacqui...Patricia...or...Lori.." Carl took a deep breath and looked down.

"I don't know.." he whispered and turned away. He looked at Connor and sniffed, his eyes red and watery. The Irishman sighed and got up.

"What about Annabelle?" he muttered and the whole group looked at him.

The blonde folded his arms and leaned against the wall with a tired sigh. It was now time to put the mask back on, to hide how he truely felt about everything that happened today. He needed to be the Connor everyone knew. The funnyman. The leprechaun.

"That was my Ma's name. Always thought it's a pretty name. Means something like joy, beautiful, graceful..."

He looked at the child in Daryl's arms and smiled a bit.

"Loveable."

The hunter smirked and looked at the baby as well.

"You like that? Huh? Little ass-kicker?"

He looked at the others and grinned.

"Right? That's a good name, right?"

Everybody chuckled. Daryl rocked her even more and chuckled as well.

"Little ass-kicker. You like that, huh? You like that, sweetheart?"

The little girl let go of the bottle and hiccupped, which made everybody laugh again. Even Connor had to laugh, despite the circumstances.
He chuckled and shook his head.

"Dude, yer not calling her 'little ass-kicker'. She's a girl."

Daryl looked up and frowned.

"So what? Yah mean girls can't kick some ass? She sure as hell's gonna kick some serious ass when she's older. Isn't that right, ass-kicker?
Don't listen to him, he don't know nothing."

Connor got closer and frowned at his friend for a second, then he looked at the little girl in his arms.

"No, don't listen t'him! He ain't got no clue how ta treat a lady. Little princess, that's what you are."

Daryl snorted loudly and looked at Connor.

"'Little princess'? Seriously?"

The Irishman pointed at the child.

"She sure is! Just look at that face. 'Ass-kicker' sounds fucking ugly, and that girl ain't ugly. And just look at us, gathering around her like she's some turkey on thanksgiving, everyone obviously adores her, so of course she's a fucking princess. Kneel before me and all that."

The hunter chuckled.

"'s what I'm saying. She's gonna kick our ass when we don't do what she wants. You've heard her, lungs like an elephant. Ass-kicker it is."

"Then maybe we should give her some cool name. Like, in those action movies. Her Da's a cop, aye? How about...trooper toddler. Or..,fuck, I dunno, those comic thingies.
All those tough women who do all sorts of tough shit all te time. That's some serious ass-kicking, too."

Daryl frowned angrily and looked at his friend in disbelief.

"We ain't calling her after some chick you saw in a fucking movie, dumbass."

"And 'little ass-kicker' is so much better?"

"And yah think walkers are gonna run away from someone called 'trooper toddler'?!"

"It's a whole lotta more creative than yer shit!"

And the group started laughing again, but this time because they felt like they were watching two uncles fight over who was the better relative and who had the biggest and best presents for christmas.

Rick wouldn't turn up again. The group agreed to go and look for their leader as soon as the sun was back up again. Connor still blamed himself for Lori's death, which was why he wasn't looking forward to that particular reunion. As for now he was just incredibly tired. He hadn't slept in two days, and the cleaning out the prison, the fight with the cannibals, the walker invasion and the fight with Andrew had completely exhausted him, to a point where he didn't even care about his nightmares anymore. He just wanted to sleep, and this time he chose his cell instead of placing himself right next to Daryl on the perch. The hunter was surprised when he friend just walked past him, but he was tired as well so he didn't say anything. Since Connor's cell was the one that led straight to the perch the hunter could still see his friend, how he took his time to get rid of his dirty shirt.

For a minute the Irishman looked at the bloody fabric in his hands, completely lost in thoughts. He could see all sorts of blood stains and dirt on it, and it reminded him of the walker that had been lying right on top of him. It made him angry and confused all over again. The undead could've bit him, but somehow no such thing had happened. He remembered how the thing had fallen right on top of him, how it had sniffed on his blood like some dog. The walker had obviously tried to attack him at first. He had shown interest in him after all, and the blonde wasn't used to that anymore. Connor hated how he couldn't understand what was going on with his own body. So he was immune, the fever and a bite would probably never kill him, the walker blood just made him sick, sometimes the undead tried to eat him, sometimes they didn't...it was driving him insane not to know anything for sure, and he hated how he couldn't just go out and kill walkers so easily anymore. The Irishman growled and used his old shirt to wipe his face, then he threw it in a corner to get a new one.

Daryl just watched his friend and stared at his large back tattoo. He was so glad that Connor was still there. For just a moment he had thought that his friend had just left him like his brother, and it had been one of the most terrible experiences in his life. He didn't want him to leave. Ever. The hunter tried to imagine what it would be like if his cell were empty. No grumpy or over-cheery leprechaun who was walking around and brooding, no one with silly religious tattoos he could laugh about... Daryl sighed and shook his head. It was a grotesque scenario. He didn't even know how he had been able to enjoy the silence, the loneliness once. Before Connor he had been alone after Merle had disappeared, hell, even with Merle he had always felt alone. The hunter had always thought that it had been okay like that, that he didn't need anyone anyway, but now he had to realize that he had been fooling himself all the time. He had always told himself that lie, simply because he had never known what it felt like to truly appreciate a friendship, to truly like being with someone, especially when they weren't your own blood. But then last winter had happened, and he was so used to that now that everything else just felt weird and wrong. He wanted to be with this group, and he wanted to be with Connor. No matter what. The younger of the two watched the other for a little while longer, and when it got obvious that Connor wasn't going to come out of his cell tonight Daryl growled and grabbed his stuff instead.

Connor startled when something was thrown to the ground right next to him, and when he turned around he could see Daryl, who was standing by the door to his cell.
His friend had thrown his blankets and pillows inside and looked at him as well.

"Mover yer fat ass" he growled and made his way past Connor, but not without bumping his shoulder against the blonde's chest.

The Irishman huffed and raised an eyebrow.

"Ow. What te fuck?"

Daryl fell to his knees and started moving his things on the ground.

"What's it look like. I ain't sleeping on no perch anymore. And I told yah last time. 'm moving into some cell."

He adjusted the pillow he had stolen from one of the other cells.

"This is my cell now" he stated and tried not to smirk.

There was no way he would ever tell Connor that he wanted to share a cell with him, so he wanted to make it look like he was going to throw his friend out.
He knew that Connor would never leave his cell like that, and this was exactly what he wanted to achieve.
The Irishman acted just like he had thought and lay down on his bed with a snort.

"Fuck ye, I ain't gonna move shit. Get yer own."

"No, I need this one. Closer to the stairs in case walkers attack and I gotta save the day again. Now, fuck off" Daryl countered without meaning it and lay down on his makeshift bed as well. His friend chuckled and shifted on his bed until he was more comfortable.

"Ye wish" he muttered and stared at the bottom of the bed above him for a while.

Daryl wouldn't say anything anymore, so he turned his head to look at the man on the ground with a smirk.

"Why are ye lying on the ground? It's a bunk bed, y'know" he murmured and looked straight up again. Then a grin broke through.

"I thought yer a top."

Daryl snorted.

"Shut up and sleep."

The Irishman chuckled.

"Alright, Ma."

He turned his back on Daryl and closed his eyes with a sigh.

"Night, Murph."

Soon it was quiet inside the cell block apart from Herschel's gentle snoring. For the first time they really felt the absence of all the people they had lost today. T-Dog. Carol. Lori. Rick, who was probably still raging through the corridors and searching for his dead wife...Their group felt so small all of a sudden. Now it were just Connor and Daryl. Carl and the newborn. Herschel and Beth. Maggie and Glenn. The hunter sighed and stared at the ceiling. They had used to be -so- many people. Back in Atlanta. Back on Herschel's farm. Although he had been way more pissed off and lonelier back then, it had still been better with so many people around. He turned his head again and looked at his friend, who still had his back turned on him. If Connor had left today then their group would have consisted of eight people. Just eight. Against the whole world, against evil bastards like the cannibals or the prisoners.
No matter how strong and independent he was, it still scared Daryl.

"Hey leprechaun" he muttered after a moment and Connor answered with a tired "Huh."

"You promised yer brother that yer not gonna kill yerself. Ever. That right?"

The Irishman shifted a bit, and it was obvious that he didn't like talking about it.

"Aye" he murmured after a while and Daryl nodded.

"And yah ain't the type t'break promises, right?"

"If yer asking what I think yer asking, then no, I ain't gonna try that shit again. So yeah, I keep me promises. Kept most of them in fact.
Only had ta break some when it was life or death."

He finally turned around and looked at Daryl with a frown.

"Why are ye asking?"

Daryl sighed and kept staring at the ceiling.

"Cos you gotta promise me something as well."

Connor raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

"Well, aren't yer adorable. We really up to this shit now? Want me t'make us friendship bracelets?"

The younger growled and glared at his friend.

"Fuck you. I'm serious."

The Irishman eyed him with an amused smirk, then he finally seemed to get that it really mattered to his friend.

"What is it, then?"

"Promise yer ain't gonna leave. Ever. Not because of some whiny feelings bullshit, not because of some stupid choices, not because you can't stand someone.
Promise me that yer not gonna do the same shit like today ever again."

Connor just looked at his friend for a very long while. He hated that Daryl was forcing him into something like that, practically trying to take his freedom away just because he knew that he really wasn't the kind of man to break a promise or an important law. Not breaking a promise was an important law for friendships, so he would betray his inner moral compass if he broke something like this. The Irishman sighed and shook his head.

"Funny that. Couple of months ago ye tried anything t'get me outta yer group. And now this?"

Daryl snorted.

"Shut up. You know that shit's changed between us."

Connor chuckled.

"You mean that ye suddenly have feelings fer me, Darlyna? Yeah, I know."

Daryl grabbed his friend's dirty shirt from the corner and threw it at the Irishman.

"Fuck you" the hunter growled and turned his back on the blonde.

Connor threw the shirt away again and sighed.

"Alright. I promise."

Daryl turned around again and eyed his friend.

"Really?"

Connor sighed and rubbed his forehead tiredly.

"Aye."

Silence.

"Guess I was just overreacting today. I was fucking stressed, 've got the worst headache in me life and I was fucking upset because of all those people dying, okay?"

Daryl just looked at him and nodded.

"Hmhm."

Connor nodded as well and turned around again so he could try to sleep. But Daryl wouldn't let go just yet.
He still couldn't stop thinking about everything the Irishman had yelled at him today. Everything he had heard and seen for the past couple of months.
He stared at his friend's back that moved with every breath he took and started chewing on his fingernails.

"Hey, what I said this morn, that ain't true."

"What?" Connor just murmured without turning around.

"It ain't your fault. None of that."

It took the Irishman a while to answer, and when he did he didn't believe in it himself.

"I know" he just said, but his memories were telling him something different.

Pretty much the whole cell block woke up in the middle of the night when the little girl started crying again. All the more did it surprise Connor when he saw that Daryl was still sound asleep on the ground. The Irishman groaned tiredly and sat up to hear better. He could hear some muttering underneath their cell. The blonde rubbed his eyes and got up to see what was going on. The group had put the little girl in an extra cell, right between Carl's and Maggie's and Glenn's, so he made his way down the stairs to see who was taking care of the crying little mess. He could see Carl and Maggie inside the baby's cell, and after some thinking and looking up the stairs to make sure that Daryl wasn't coming he decided to go and help them. He hadn't been able to get much sleep anyway, now that the guilt and the nightmares were still torturing him.

"Can I do something?" he murmured and blinked a few times.

Carl and Maggie, who was trying to calm the little girl down, turned around in surprise and looked at him.

"No, it's okay. I've got it" Maggie answered tiredly, and it was obvious that she was just as exhausted and nightmare-ridden as him.

Connor got closer and looked at the crying girl.

"Hey hey hey, little princess. What's wrong? Been having nightmares? We all have" he tried to calm her down and much to his surprise it actually worked.

The little baby was still crying, but it looked like she was getting interested in him. She stared at the Irishman with wide eyes, and Maggie let out a gentle chuckle.

"Looks like she likes your voice" she noticed and Connor chuckled as well.

"Well, aye. Can I?" he asked and pointed at the bundle in Maggie's arms.

Herschel's daughter eyed him head to toe.

"You know how to hold a baby?"

The Irishman nodded with a smirk.

"Aye. Got to hold one once, back in church. My Ma had a friend there, and she had a couple of kids.
Besides, we were a big family, small village, everyone was practically family. Helping each other and all that."

"What about your..you know, infection? Maybe we should keep you away from her."

Connor raised an eyebrow.

"Do ye really think I would risk a little girl's life like that if I wasn't entirely sure the whole thing's not contagious? Don't worry. Daryl came in direct contact. More than once. And he's obviously still fine. Besides, Rick told ye. We're all infected."

Maggie turned her head to look at Carl, who had been watching them cautiously, never missing a single movement and how they treated his little sister. Rick's son nodded after a moment and she handed the baby over. Although he had asked for it the Irishman still let out a surprised gasp, but once Maggie had made sure that he was holding the girl correctly he looked at the small bundle in his arms, completely dumfounded.

"Wow, she's heavier than she looks" he chuckled and grinned at Maggie.

He adjusted the girl's clothes with one hand and started rocking her gently.

"Now hush hush, superheroines don't cry. And yer one superwoman, aye? That's what you are. Yer not an ass kicker, yer more than that. You got superpowers.
Superstrong lungs, that's fer sure" he observed and looked at Maggie and Carl with a chuckle.

The little girl had stopped crying and was now sucking on her little thumbs.

"I've always wanted t'do that, ye know?" he told her and started walking up and down the small cell.

"I know, what a surprise. But truth be told, sometimes I was getting sick of all that guns and running and hiding and fighting crap.
I mean 't was fun, but this is also fun. Yer loads of fun" he went on and smiled at the child in his arms.

"And see? You got te superpower not t'cry and make everyone happy with that" he snorted and looked at the others again.

"Sorry 'm talking loads of bullshit here. Don't even know what 'm doing. I just heard her cry and I hate when kids are upset, so I just thought I should help."

Maggie smiled.

"You're doing great. Besides, I think we could use all the help we can get with her."

The Irishman nodded and rocked the little girl a bit more until she was starting to fall asleep.

"Alright. I got it covered" he said and looked at Maggie.

"You can go back t'bed. 'm gonna make her fall asleep and put her back in hers as well. I just..need a minute with Carl?"

Rick's son looked up in surprise and frowned. Herschel's daughter looked at the two of them and frowned as well.

"You sure?"

Connor nodded and sat down next to the improvised crib.

"Aye. 'm gonna get ye if I need help with 'er. We need you fit fer tomorrow."

Maggie looked at Carl for a bit longer, then she nodded and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Okay. Goodnight."

"Night."

"See you tomorrow" the other two answered and waited for a bit to make sure that Maggie was really gone.

Connor watched the little girl in his arms for a little bit longer. She made him feel happy, and right now he was more than glad that he had gone back with Daryl. Maybe his friend was right. Maybe this was the first life he could actually save in a very long while.

"You thought about a name?" he asked and looked at Rick's son.

Carl sat down next to him and shook his head.

"No. I wanted to ask Dad."

The Irishman nodded and looked up.

"Aye. Good idea."

Carl sighed and stared at his feet for a moment.

"Do you think he's dead?"

Connor shook his head.

"Nah. He's yer Da. He's too tough to be dead."

"I've never seen him cry like that before" the boy said quietly and the Irishman looked at him.

"How are you, Carl?" he asked after a moment and the boy looked at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

"My Mom is dead."

Connor sighed and looked at the child in his arms, who was sleeping now.
Guilt rushed all over him again, and although the little girl made him happy he couldn't help but feel like crap again.

"Listen, there's a reason I wanted t'talk ta you" he began and took a deep breath.

"'m so fucking sorry I left you and yer Ma. 'm really sorry. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have left you. I should've listened t'you when ye asked me to stay."

Carl looked at him.

"It wasn't your fault. There's nothing you could've done. Mum wanted Maggie to cut her open."

The Irishman turned his head and looked at the boy next to him in surprise.

"What?"

"It was her decision. She wanted to save my sister" Carl murmured and looked at his sibling.

Connor kept looking at him.

"I thought she died because of the complications. Cos there was no one there t'help Maggie pull yer sister out."

The boy shook his head.

"No. I helped her. It was the cut that killed her. She wanted it that way."

Connor took a deep breath and got up to put the sleeping baby back in her crib.
When he sat back down next to Carl again he buried his face in both his hands and sighed gently.

"Fuck. I'm so sorry, Carl."

"Can I ask you something?" the boy asked after a while and Connor looked at him.

"Af course."

"Is it true that you had to shoot your brother, too? To keep him from turning?"

The Irishman just looked at him. Even after such a long time he could still remember every single second of that day. Everything he had seen and felt.
The weight of his gun, how he had been struggling to pull the trigger, the look on his dead brother's face, the incredible pain in his chest right where his heart was.

"Aye" he answered quietly and Carl looked at him.

"How did you feel?"

Connor took another deep breath and tried not to start bawling all over again.

"Did you shoot yer Ma? After she died?" he asked instead.

Carl nodded slowly and the Irishman nodded as well.

"Then ye know how I felt."