Only when they were alone again did the brothers get the chance to really speak properly, though even then it followed minutes of quiet between them. Eventually prompted anew by Murphy carefully pulling Connor's rosary over his head and returning it to its rightful owner, at first, Connor only looked down at it in his hand with a mixture of confusion, and relief that it'd been found. Frowning at his brother's expression, Murphy nodded at him.

"What's up..?"

"Where'd you get this?"

"The Governor – he gave it to me." Pausing a moment, Murphy glanced down at his own hands. "He gave it to me right before telling me you'd been killed."

"He told you that..?"

Murphy just nodded, meeting his brother's eye again as the realization crept through him. Replacing the beaded cross around his neck, he dropped in inside his shirt with a sigh – a heavy, regretful sound.

"What happened, Connor? The night Woodbury was attacked?"

"To tell you the truth…I don't really remember much of anythin' – I went back for you, found Rick an' Daryl on the way…somethin' hit me, right here. Next thing I know, I'm wakin' up here."

With a tap to where his head injury was practically healed, Connor waited for Murphy to digest this new information before he took his turn to ask a question.

"…Why were you with them? With the Governor, all his lot? Did he threaten you, somethin' like that?"

"I agreed to help him." Murphy replied quietly, only able to look at his sibling properly when he was prompted to with a stern request for clarification. Across the way, Connor was searching his brother's face for some kind of hint that he didn't mean what he'd just said.

"What are you talkin' about..? You knew what he was comin' here to do, why would you-"

"He told me it was one of Rick's group who killed you. I wanted-"

"What? You wanted what, revenge? I suppose he didn't tell you who exactly it was? Murph', you were ready to kill-"

"Yeah – yeah, I was. I wanted the person who I thought had shot you to die. And don't you dare stand there and judge me for that. Don't you fuckin' dare."

Rubbing a hand across his face, Connor looked up as Murphy got up from his seat and walked the length of the room, only coming back to round on him with his answer when he'd said his piece.

"I'm not judgin' you, Murphy – I just want to know what the fuck was going through your head that made the thought of killin' these people a reasonable option."

"You wanna know? Fine. I thought you were dead, Connor. You hadn't come to find me, you weren't anywhere in Woodbury, he had your rosary. I thought I was never gonna see you again, and I wanted to make it right, whatever that meant."

"That should never mean killing innocent people!"

Murphy's anger was bested only by his realization that Connor was right, but his finger came up all the same, pointing accusingly at Connor as he delivered his reply.

"I didn't know they were innocent, not anymore. You don't know what it was like, no fuckin' idea. I blamed myself for you dyin', I had to grieve for you – do you know what that was like to go through, alone? Do you know what it was like knowin' I'd let you down so badly? And all this fuckin' time, you were tucked up here, all safe and sound – why didn't you come back for me? Why wouldn't you come back to Woodbury to get me, to let me know you were alright?"

Murphy was all but shouting now, but the answer he got quickly redirected his ferocity as Connor got to his feet, laying out the truth as he knew it with equal intensity.

"Of course I went back for you! And you know what they told me? That you'd gone. That you'd left to try and find me. I figured you'd come back here, and when you didn't show up? After days of goin' out there and searchin', and waitin' and prayin' and still not seeing you? How the fuck do you think that felt?"

Both men took a moment to breathe, to cool off a little before Connor finally finished his tirade, this time in a calmer, more earnest tone of voice, Murphy following suit soon after.

"…I should've insisted, made 'em let me back into Woodbury. But at the time…I don't know. I didn't see why they'd lie. I'm sorry, Murph'. Lookin' back I should've done more-"

"There wasn't anythin' else you could've done…I don't get it, though. Why would they lie? It's not like either of us were anythin' to them."

"They were keepin' Glenn and Maggie hostage. They knew the prison existed…I guess they wanted someone on their side to fight for 'em, someone who knew the layout."

This was obviously new information to Murphy, judging by how quickly his expression softened.

"…But why tell me you were dead..?"

"Because the Governor could see it was both of us or nothin'. Without one of us in the picture, the other wouldn't have anythin' to lose. S'that simple, the way I see it."

"Aye, well…he wasn't wrong."

Going back to Connor's side, Murphy took a seat and mirrored his brother's body language – as, per usual, unintentionally – with his arms resting on his knees and his torso hunched forward in a slouch. He didn't say anything else for some time, but this time, for once he wasn't interrupted as he chose his words with care, though they came to him easily all the same.

"…I'm really glad you're here, Conn'. When I thought you were dead, I didn't know what to do. I wasn't ready for it, I didn't know how to think straight…an' I'm sorry, for earlier, for shoutin'. I should just be happy you're okay. That I got you back, after everythin' that went down…"

Connor just listened, watching as Murphy scratched at the skin around his thumb, not so much in nervousness now but in the absence of having anything else to do with his hands.

"I know. To be honest with you, I wasn't much better, me'self. I missed you too, you little bastard. More than you know."

Pushing an arm loosely around his shoulders, Connor pulled his brother into a side hug, squeezing his shoulder and, for the first time in weeks, the two of them shared a small smile.

"Come on, let's not keep talkin' about it, a'right? The real question now is what the fuck we're gonna do next"

"How d'you mean? About Rick and that lot?"

"Yeah. We can talk him round, see if we both can't come back an' stay here, or we can get back to the crash site, see if the car's still there. Carry on with the first plan. S'up to you."

Looking from his brother to his hands again, Murphy thought for a minute. Going back to the car, if it was even still there, which there was a good chance it was, was an option…but it'd be risky getting back there, if he could even remember how far away they'd pulled up. Staying at the prison meant all the things it had before; shelter, food, and a bed to sleep in. Rick would need convincing, and that was never a guarantee…but if it went well, Murphy had no real reason to say 'no'. Ideally, he'd like to go back out onto the road and continue with their plan, but not right now. Not immediately. He'd only just gotten Connor back, and he wasn't willing to risk putting that in jeopardy any time soon.

"…We should stay. Only temporarily if they don't want us here, but if the Governor gets away, I reckon they'll need all the help they can get takin' him out. And if not, then…we can go back on the road, back to the plan."

"Alright then."

"You think he'll like it? Rick, I mean"

"The idea of you stayin'? Not at first. Let me talk to him – see if I can't work some magic." Connor said with a shrug as he brought his arm back around. Honestly, he couldn't see the conversation going well, but there was no way he wasn't going to try. Evidently, Murphy had warmed to the idea of sharing the prison, though he couldn't say how long that attitude would last.

The remainder of the day was spent outside with those who hadn't gone with Rick to chase down the Governor, keeping watch and trying to fix the fences as best they could. Murphy was treated with an expected level of wariness and suspicion, but this time round he forced himself to ignore it, instead working closely with Connor on whatever task they'd set themselves, catching up on lost time and silently revelling in having the other around again. And when Murphy had revealed the packet of cigarettes he'd had stashed in his pocket from Woodbury, the mood between them lifted even higher. It'd been so long since Connor had had a smoke, and when Murphy had lit it for him and he'd dragged in that first lung full of familiarity, the rush and relief was beyond satisfying. There were only a few left in the pack, so he knew they'd been sharing, and even then they'd be few and far between, but it was certainly better than nothing.

It'd just been passed to Murphy to finish up when the sound of the gates being opened brought their attention away from their conversation. Making their way to the yard, the sight of Rick's car was one thing, while the bus following close behind was another altogether. Sharing a look, the brothers approached the vehicles as people began to climb out of the bus, and Rick shut the door of his car behind him. Carl was the first to talk to him, but the sight of Murphy clipped his answer short – evidently, the small factor of the second MacManus brother had slipped his mind for a while. Speaking briefly to Daryl and gesturing from the bus to the cell blocks, eventually he made his way towards the brothers, nodding for Connor to follow him. A pat on the chest as he followed the sheriff told Murphy to stay put, not that he needed telling – though he still watched them both go as the last of the cigarette was smoked and crushed under foot. He had no doubt Connor would do his best to make sure they could stay, and if not, at least they'd get another chance of braving the road. Ever since he'd realized he was alive, Murphy had promised to make a conscious effort to be better – to not complain as much as he had before, to not be such a pain in the arse. Of course he couldn't guarantee he wouldn't break this promise, but there was so much he regretted doing and saying to Connor before they'd been separated, this time he'd be damned if he let history repeat itself.

By the time Rick and Connor reappeared, the horde of newcomers were already settling in their cells. Murphy had returned to his own, concerned that someone might unknowingly take it as their own. It was slightly petty, given that all of the cells were identical and there was nothing in particular that separated this one from the others, but he still wanted to keep it as theirs. When Connor eventually tracked him down, Murphy sat up instantly, looking for any indication of the answer he was about to receive. Connor only took a step or two inside the cell, his eyes downcast, and for a good few seconds, Murphy had resigned himself to their Plan B.

"When does he want us out?"

"…Tonight. He wants us gone as soon as possible."

"Fucks sake…alright, well…I'm good to go whenever you- what?"

As he'd stood up, Murphy hadn't noticed right away the smile that was crawling across his brother's face.

"The fuck're you smirkin' at?"

"You're really tryin' to be a little angel this time round, aren't'cha?"

"Fuckin' blow me. Look, we need some supplies before we can go anywhere-"

"Murph', Murph' – relax. I'm kidding."

"What?"

"I'm just fuckin' with you. I talked him round – you're on probation, but you're all good."

Once he'd made sure Connor was being serious, Murphy gave him a punch to the shoulder as he let himself relax again, taking the return hit in good favour as they both made themselves at home on their respective bunks once more. Tugging his rosary out from under his shirt, Murphy teased the beads between his fingertips, not knowing that Connor was practically doing the same thing above him, feeling the familiar bumps beneath his shirt and against his chest. For a while, the sound of the prison's inhabitants was the only thing to fill the air; the sound of parents reassuring children, and of friends finding each other again. It soon became obvious to both of them that they were all from Woodbury, but why Rick had brought them here, neither of them knew.

"Hey…what'd you say to make him say yes?"

"Nothin' much…just that you'd be on laundry duty for the next thirty years."

"You're so fuckin' funny."

"Eh, I try."

"Seriously – how'd you swing it?"

"I told him that if he trusted me, he'd have to trust you too. Both or nothin', that sort of shit. Told him what a good boy you are, how much you love doin' laundry and helpin' out around the house, all that good, honest crap."

Kicking the mattress with a roll of the eyes, Murphy smiled to himself all the same.

"I suppose you'll be wantin' a 'thank you'?"

"Nah – save that for Rick. He's the one you've gotta impress now. Best pray extra hard that he's in a better mood tomorrow."