"Would you stop fuckin' fidgetin'?"

"Fuck you, it stings!"

Pausing just long enough to shoot Murphy a knowing look, Connor rolled his eyes when he just got a glare in reply. "You're bein' a big baby, quit whinin'."

"Aye, well – this big baby saved your ass back there," Murphy shot back, "stopped that fat fuck from poppin' your head off like the cap on a tube of fuckin' toothpaste-"

The last of his sentence was sharply inhaled with a wince when Connor dabbed at the cut on his cheekbone again. His eyes were squeezed shut for just a second, and so Connor couldn't help but smirk a little, just to himself. Just for a second.

"Alright, alright- look, the sooner you hold still and let me do this, the sooner I'll be done and I can fuck off and let you be, alright? Come on man, suck it up just a bit longer."

It was moments like this that made Murphy seem fourteen again, and simultaneously made Connor feel almost as many years older. They'd been in Boston barely a month and already this had been their second scrap. Nothing serious, never was – and his brother never changed.

If only because of the all the change they were in the midst of, Connor hoped in that particular moment that he never would.

Being told to suck it up or most variations of it was never something Murphy liked to hear. But in this case, he did as he was told. Not without a sullen scowl of course, but that never lasted long. Soon enough, Connor was patting his cheek with a broad, cheeky smile, and closely dodging Murphy's hand as it swiped up to thump him from where he was sat on the edge of his mattress.

"Alright, there you go, y'wee brave soldier – sittin' through all that awful antiseptic."

"Fuck you."

"And y'didn't even ask to hold my hand once – just wait till Ma hears!"

He let him hit him that time, laughing when Murphy drew his bruised hand back, as if he'd just remembered that it'd be black and blue for a couple days yet. Opening and closing his fist with a grimace, Murphy only looked up again when Connor pushed a bag of ice at him.

"Go on, keep that on it a while. Least it'll numb it up a bit."

"Thanks…"

Settling himself down opposite his brother, Connor scratched at his cheek and watched as Murphy examined his hand some more.

"I think it's broken."

"It's not broken, you're alright."

"Yeah? How the fuck would you know?"

Connor shrugged, "Got me a medical degree, specialising in 'Fuck you I know what a broken fuckin' hand looks like'. It's just swollen. You'll survive to punch another day."

"Hope so, for your sake." Murphy replied, a little quieter than before.

Brows knitting together, Connor nudged his brother's foot with the toe of his boot. "How'd you figure that?"

"Because," Murphy shrugged, before he gave Connor a shit-eating smirk, "Christ knows you can't punch for shit."

X

The sun had only been up for a couple of hours when Murphy came around. He didn't remember falling asleep or what time it'd been, but the upside really was that he didn't remember waking in the night either. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel better for it; getting more than a few hours in was practically medal-worthy nowadays. Squinting against the bright fingers of light stretching across the room from between the curtains, lazily drawn, he pushed himself up onto one elbow. The house was silent, and Connor's bed – dragged from one of the other bedrooms when the armchair no longer quite did the trick – was empty.

It wasn't until he'd reached the kitchen that he noticed the sound of voices outside. Nothing sinister, just out on the street, like he was hearing his neighbours exchanging pleasantries between their mail boxes. There was that petty, irrational pang of envy again – and quashed just as quickly as it had been before.

He should be happy for the people here, happy that they hadn't needed to do half the shit he or Connor had needed to get by. Happy for them that they hadn't witnessed or experienced just how twisted up everything had become.

Another look cast around told him he really was here alone, and a handful of moments later, the front door was closing roughly behind him, the spaciousness of the house somehow cramped, stifling.

The neighbours turned at the sound, but neither said anything to him, and Murphy was more than happy to reply in kind.

He eventually found Connor sat up on one of the watchman's posts, smoke curling from the cigarette he was passing back to the other guy on duty. Their conversation was too quiet for Murphy to hear, but when Connor heard his name, neither looked particularly irked at the interruption. He just nodded his thanks and said as much, making his way back to ground level for his summons.

"Y'alright?"

Murphy only nodded, motioning up at the post. "Got a job then..?"

"Nah." Connor shook his head, "Just needed to clear me head a bit. Came up before sunrise, watched it come up."

With another glance up at the post, Murphy's brows knitted together in a small frown, unsure of itself. "Could'a woken me up."

"Aye, well – I didn't. You were out like a light, Christ knows you needed it."

"And you don't?"

For a moment, the brothers just looked at each other, but it was Connor who finally looked away first, lips pulled up at the corner in something close to a smirk. "I'm fine, Murph. Come on; I'm starvin'."

They didn't get far before Murphy was stopping again. Like his shadow, Connor did the same, really looking at his brother; like he could guess what was on the tip of his tongue before Murphy had a chance to say it. And really, he didn't need to. Connor knew. The challenge was getting Murphy to say it, to talk to him instead of keeping it to himself.

For a half minute or so, the two just stood in the street until Connor backtracked a step, and sighed. Not with impatience or anything like it. Just a simple exhale; and a second later, his tone offered the same. Softer than before.

"What d'you wanna do, Murph."

Shaking his head and shrugging, Murphy bit at his thumbnail, his answer only coming when it sounded as though Connor was about to say something else.

"I dunno….I just wanna stop for a minute, take a walk."

"We can do that."

"That's not what I mean. Not here."

Frowning, Connor glanced from Murphy to the wall. "Out there?"

Murphy nodded.

"…Alright, well – I'll get us our guns, and we can go-"

"No. We don't need 'em, we've got knives."

"Murph, come on, don't be stupid. You wanna go out there without our guns?"

Finally, Murphy looked at Connor properly. "I'm not a fuckin' idiot, I'm not sayin' we go off hikin' miles into the woods. Just wanna get out've here for a bit. I don't want them all knowin' and makin' it into a big fuckin' thing, I just need t'get out. Just for a couple hours, that's all."

Connor would have been lying if he'd said he particularly liked the idea. A part of him – a large part, it was worth noting – knew this wasn't a good idea. But a wiser part was quick to remind him that if he didn't go with him now, Murphy would just go out there alone later when he really couldn't take this mood of his anymore.

So, taking another step towards him, Connor's hand found his shoulder squeezed him there and gave him a familiar smile.

One that sugar-coated his clear hesitation with something more comforting, something that said 'why the fuck not?'. Something that made Murphy feel a little less on edge.

"I hear you."

A look at the wall any which way, it looked impenetrable. From the outside, at least.

From the inside, it didn't the brothers long to find a way of climbing up – a childhood spent climbing trees, fences and the like with varying degrees of urgency had only ever served them well, as it turned out. Peering over the edge to ensure the coast was clear, Connor took a deep breath, before he swung himself over the other side, looked around to make sure they hadn't been noticed, and continued back down the other side with Murphy close behind him.

There was a definite sense that they were breaking the rules; odd, considering that they were free to leave at any time, though Connor supposed that doing it this way was more on brand for them.

Whatever that meant anymore.

As promised, they didn't wander far from the walls, but it was plain as the daylight glinting between the leaves whenever the breeze picked up that Murphy was already better for being out here. They didn't say anything to one another for a little while. Only pushed their hands into their pockets and walked at a leisurely pace, keeping their eyes and ears open but still managing to take in area around them. Or at least Connor did. Murphy seemed lost in his own thoughts and didn't look as though he was paying the beauty of nature much mind at all. Still, whether he noticed or not, and despite the dangers that could have lurked around every tree and sprung out from any shadow once the sun began to set, it was undeniably beautiful. That would never change. Regardless of how much bloodshed occurred between the trees and the road leading out into the world.

It wasn't until they'd found a dead tree to sit on for a bit that Murphy finally said anything. For once, it felt like he was glad for the excuse to speak quietly.

"There's no way they let us stay after yesterday."

Connor glanced his way. He was examining the hilt of his knife without much interest.

"You don't exactly sound disappointed at the prospect."

"I just have a feelin'. I've not bought into this place and now I'm thinkin' that was a good move. They let us in on good faith, and now what? Rick's beatin' one of their own up in the street, wavin' his gun around?" Lifting his head, Murphy shrugged. "I just don't see 'em lettin' us stay."

"…If they do let us – and I hear you, I get it. But if they do let us stay, is that somethin' you want?"

"Conn, come on."

"No, I wanna know what's goin' on in here." Tapping two fingertips against Murphy's temple, Connor gave a customary glance around, before he carried on. "Why're we out here now, Murph? Talk me through it, tell me."

"You know what's goin' on…"

"I know what you told me the other night. But I know there's more to it. More you wanna say."

When only the wind picking up leaves lightly jostling the trees came in addition to that, he scowled to himself, and turned away.

"I just needed to get out for a while. Startin' to feel caged in s'all."

Clearly that wasn't all, and so after a paused, he carried on. "Like I said the other night…it's a fantasy in there, that's all it is. None of 'em have a care in the fuckin' world. And sure, there's a few of 'em that can probably shoot alright. But…I don't wanna end up feelin' responsible for them…you know?"

"Well…why don't we help 'em then? You know, help them learn how to handle themselves-"

"Tsch…you think they'd go for that? You serious? They don't even let us carry in there, I bet half of 'em still find a way to be against guns. It'd be pointless."

"Maybe not. But, l like you said, perhaps that's why we're here. Maybe we can help them."

Connor watched as his brother just looked up at the wall and offered nothing in response. So he read between the lines, and continued. "All that aside…I think we're smart enough to know to be prepared for everythin' goin' tits up, Murph."

"Here's our options as I see 'em," Murphy said at last. "We stay, and we let our guard down, we get soft and that gets us killed."

"…Or."

"Or, we stay, and we're livin' like we have been since we got here. On edge all the fuckin' time, all twitchy and shit."

"That's how we've gotten by so far, Murph – at least in there we can let our guard down a little."

"So far, sure. When we didn't have any other option."

"But we have another option now. It'll take gettin' used to, but…I think we could use a place like this. Maybe not permanently, maybe it doesn't last, I'm not sittin' here pretendin' it will. But, I'm sayin' for now…for now, for our own sakes, we should enjoy it while it does."

Quiet stretched between them, light enough to be carried off with the wind like smoke, but just as pervasive.

"That's what I keep tellin' myself. I keep tellin' myself I should be grateful, you know. We've got shelter, and water, clothes, food, all that shit…why can't I be grateful, why can't I enjoy it? But I fuckin' hate it, Connor – I hate havin' the rug pulled out from under us, all the time. I know I'm like broken record, I just want…I wanna know that this place will last before I sit back and enjoy the fuckin' view. I can't settle until then, I can't."

While he spoke, Connor just looked at him, trying to guess where he was heading with all this. Hoping it wasn't going to end in Murphy suggesting they leave, but preparing for that. Just in case.

"Look, Murph…you can settle here, we can. We both need a fuckin' break. And I've got your back, you know that – if anythin' happened here-"

"That's not the fuckin' point, Connor!" Murphy cut back, pushing himself to his feet, "You deserve a place where do you don't need to worry about me. I mean Christ, have you slept more than four hours since we got here? I know there's shit you're worried about that you're not tellin' me, but you keep it to yourself because, what? Why?"

"Keep your fuckin' voice down." Mirroring him, Connor grabbed his arm and pulled him closer, "And I keep it to myself because out of the two of us? I can afford to. You've been on some thin fuckin' ice for weeks and I'm not gonna be the one that adds to that. And for the record, that is the point."

It was then that Murphy wrenched his arm away, but asides from that, he didn't move as Connor continued. "It's been the point since day one. We're in this together. You could find a fuckin' utopian city up in the fuckin' clouds where nothin' bad ever happens and I'd still worry about you. I'll always worry about you. Same way you worry about me. So don't bring that into it. Focus on the fact that we've got somethin' good here and we're both so fucked up by livin' out here for so long, we don't know how to fuckin' settle anymore."

Like a hammer striking a nail, Murphy's expression shifted. Softened, just a fraction. Just at the edges. Clamping a hand to the back of his brother's neck, Connor kept his eyes on him.

"…I wanna stay here, Murph. And I think you do as well. But you've gotta trust me, alright? There's a middle ground between bein' twitchy and bein' unprepared. We'll figure that out and we'll find it. But we've gotta give this place a chance. Forget about everyone else for a minute, forget all that. Just focus on what I'm sayin' here. We're both exhausted, we need this. Alright…? Tell me you hear what I'm sayin'."

To the untrained eye, Murphy's face was an illegible book, but to Connor, the pages were clear. Beneath the fatigue and the emotional scars, there was hope with fear digging its claws in.

The nod was barely there, but that was all Connor needed. The hand at Murphy's neck moved to his back, gently steering him back to their original course, their steps slower but lighter somehow now.

They stayed outside the walls for another hour before they turned back, finding their route back up over after a little trial and error, but eventually they both found themselves safely over Alexandria's threshold. And for the remainder of the day, they kept to themselves, only hearing about the town meeting later into the afternoon. A hearing, more like. To see what everyone thought about Rick and Pete's curbside throwdown.

Whether or not Rick would be expected to leave.

"Maybe we shouldn't have worried so much." Connor said, moving the swinging bench back and forth slowly with his foot. With nothing to do as the day had worn on, the brothers had wound up back on their porch, passing time with whatever they felt like talking about. Naturally, it'd eventually turned to the potential situation at hand.

"Maybe this place was never meant to be. They tell Rick to leave, the rest of 'em will probably follow. Just do me a favour and try to grab as much coffee as you can when we're leavin'. Maybe a pillow too, a blanket or two..."

Connor was trying to make light of the possibility, but after their earlier conversation, it still hit a nerve for Murphy, who showed his disapproval with a kick to his brother's shin.

"Shut up, man…"

"It'll be fine, Murph. Trust me - I've got a good feelin'."

"Oh, do you now?"

Breaking their shared look with a small shrug, Connor rested his head against the back of the bench, his attempt at an easy smile wavering.

"We'll figure it out, whatever happens. We always do."