Hello!

So, first things first: This is a sequel for my Boondock Saints story I Don't Need to be Saved.
If you haven't read it (you should, though, it's awesome, what I'm not objective? anyway...), I'll try to summarize it here for you, in only a few sentences, before you start.

Second of all: It's rated M. There's going to be death, violence, coarse language and explicit sex.
Trigger Warning (spoilers! if you're not triggered by anything, skip ahead): Mentions of rape (no detailed depiction though), and characters death (even small children).

Third and last: This story takes place in the apocalyptic world of the Walking Dead. But, it also takes place after the second Boondock Saints Movie.
One big difference is: Here, the events of the second movie happened barely one year after the first (instead of ten years). Mainly because I want Connor and Murphy to look like they did in the first movie (why? because they were cute? no...), because I would like Murphy to look as different as Daryl as possible.

So, yeah, Murphy and Daryl are two totally distinct characters that just happen to look a bit alike. But Murphy is way younger.

Now, I don't write accents (because I would be bad at it), so, instead, I use a trick: In place of "you", I'll use "ye" for the Irish accent and "ya" for the southern american accent. It's just a reminder that they do have accents. I hope that's not too annoying. I'll still try to capture each of the characters' voice though.

I'd forgotten to mention: Yes! It will be a Connor/OFC/Murphy AND also a Daryl/OFC (no slash), but with the same OFC... (I was about to call her 'lucky' before I remembered what I had in store for her...)

Quick bullet points 'I Don't Need to be Saved' summary (spoilers!):

- Aideen has been friends with the MacManus twins since they were all toddlers.
- She didn't see them for fifteen years during which she went through hell and back (with an abusive father, being locked in a convent (the laundries), a few years surviving in the streets, then back to a violent brother).
- When her and the twins are finally reunited, they realize their relationship may have changed with adulthood... Sexiness ensues (with a bit of healing).
- They decide a three-way relationship is better than any other option.
- When they get their calling, she helps them without hesitation.
- In the end, she's sent back to Ireland and they go to rescue her. Only she's shot in the stomach by her own father, which sucks, but she makes it through and that finally sets her free from him.
- She gets to live happily ever after in an Irish cottage with the twins... Until...
- EPILOGUE (it's been uploaded just for this!): They spend almost a year there, before they have to go back to Boston and kick some ass. She would have come with them, of course. Only, she finds out she's pregnant, and stays behind.

Here you go, enjoy!


PROLOGUE


He went inside the house with his crossbow up and armed. He'd heard a noise, but it hadn't sounded like the tireless scratches nor the obnoxious groans of a walker. Yet he couldn't be sure and stayed vigilant. It was probably just a small animal hiding, but it could just as well have been the little girl he was looking for.

There were tracks leading here. Yet they weren't clear enough to tell him what it was. On the porch, some of the dust had been wiped by shoes or paws. Ivy was taking over the walls; it wouldn't be long until the roof crumbled; but someone or something was dwelling here.

On his way, he had stumbled upon a few animal traps in the forest. They were all empty though. Whoever had set them had only had a vague idea of how they worked. However, that didn't mean they weren't dangerous. They may have been hungry, but that could mean they were desperate, and desperate people take desperate actions.

Yet, he still had to go in and check. The little girl could be hiding here. Or worse, maybe the reason they hadn't found her yet was because she wasn't alone…

He had seen Cherokee roses by the house; had someone been crying for their child here? Or did they bloom for the kid he was looking for?

As soon as he pushed the creaking door, he heard a faint gasp. "Sophia?" His call was only a whisper and remained unanswered. So, he cleared the rooms one by one. At least, there couldn't have been a large group in there; they would have left more traces. Maybe, if he was lucky, there was just the girl.

There, in the closet. Something had moved.

It was too small for an adult, but the perfect hiding place for a child. If he listened closely, he could even hear her panicked breathing inside it as he got closer.

Slowly, carefully, he pushed the door. There was a bit of resistance, but it was weak. Between the panels he could discern the girl's bright blue eyes. Sophia's eyes had been blue, right? So, he got on his knee, settled his crossbow against the wall, showed his empty hands and tried to speak in the most calming voice he could muster. Though that still sounded gruff and weird coming from him: "Hey kid, it's me, Daryl."

The girl turned her terrified eyes towards him. And he realised his mistake. That one's hair was blond too, though long and curly. And she was much younger, no more than four or five years old. She still held a trembling hunting knife towards him, even though she wouldn't be able to do much with it.

"Well, get a fucking step back, Daryl."

The woman's voice came from behind him. He glanced at his crossbow. Shit. He had been such an idiot to put it down.

"I said, get the fuck away from her!" The voice carried enough threat that he could surmise the woman was armed.

Seeing his hesitation, she added: "If ye think I'll let ye reach yer weapon before I stick an arrow in yer back, ye'd be wildly mistaken."

So, he slowly turned to face her. She was holding a recurve bow aimed right at him. But she looked weak and famished. There was more dried blood on her burnt skin and torn up clothes than even on his. Her green eyes looked haunted, her curly red hair mated with mud.

The kid had looked clean and healthy enough though.

That was stupid. That woman had obviously been starving and exhausting herself to keep such a small child alive. Plus, from her foreign accent and pale skin, she couldn't have been from around here. Those two were a long way from home. Now, her hand was shaking on the bowstring and he wasn't sure she would be able to aim at all. When he had turned, he'd clearly seen her waddle on her feet. It wouldn't be long until she would just pass out.

Still, until then, like a mama bear, she could be dangerous. Especially since he was standing between her and her cub. The adrenaline of finding him here and wanting to protect her daughter would keep her standing, alert and ready to kill.

So, he slowly raised his empty hands. "I don't mean any of ya any harm," he tried. "I'm just lookin' for a little girl that got lost in the woods."

The woman let a mean, sad smile play on her lips, and for a second, he thought she was lowering the bow. Before he realised she was now aiming at his crotch.

"Are ye her father?"

He cringed at what he knew she was thinking. That he looked enough like a redneck to be that kind of pervert.

"Her dad's dead. But her mom's waiting for her at our camp."

He could see it in her eyes, she was pondering if she should let him live or not.

"Where's yer camp?"

"I'm not gonna tell ya that when ya got an arrow pointed at my junk."

Her mean grin widened a bit.

"Don't worry, it's just so I know to go the other direction. Ye'll keep yer junk if ye walk away."

So she intended to keep him alive. He was a bit surprised; from her perspective it couldn't be wise, and she didn't seem naïve. He glanced at his crossbow again.

Her trembling hand pulled a little harder on the taut string: "Ye're not taking that."

He winced. There was no way he was leaving without that crossbow. Then he looked into her worn-down eyes. And he understood. There was no way he was leaving at all… He was too much of a threat now that he knew they were here. She was probably just waiting for them to be outside so she wouldn't have to kill him in front of the kid. Dammit. He had to make a run for it.

He started to move slowly towards her, thinking he would throw himself at her as soon as he got close. But of course, she stepped back, keeping her distance. It was just his luck that she was smart.

They got on the porch and he was running out of ideas. She was too careful, and she seemed to have found a new strength because of him.

"Ya know, your kid would be safer if ya joined us," he might as well try.

"We're good, but thanks for yer concern," she sneered.

He figured, whatever had happened to her, she had already lost all faith in humankind. It occurred to him that she seemed completely dead inside. The only reason she was still standing must have been the child.

"I'm not gonna beg. But I can promise I won't bother ya. I'm just looking for a lost little girl."

He saw her waver. She didn't want to kill him. Yet, she thought she had no choice. And he didn't know what to say to convince her otherwise.

"If ya kill me, she's as good as dead…"

He saw her wince; he was getting to her. She sighed and her muscles unconsciously relaxed for just an instant from her hesitation. That was his split-second chance.

He launched himself on the side and the arrow wheezed past him. Damn, she didn't even think twice; she was ready to kill. When he rolled on the ground, he had another instant to choose if he should attack her, but as soon as he steadied himself, she had notched another arrow. So, he ran.

"Fucking Christ!"

He smiled to himself at her potty mouth. She already knew she may have won the battle but had lost the war.

He made sure to shake her off in the forest. She was still careful enough that he couldn't get close to retaliate with his knife. Though, he figured he shouldn't kill her. Even if she had been a pain in his ass and assumed the worst about him, she had just been protecting her kid. Efficiently, he might have added. Still, he wanted his weapon back.

So, when she got to the house, stuffed her backpacks, shouldered his crossbow, took the small girl by the hand and left hurriedly, he simply followed their trail.

They ran for a while before the woman had to stop. As he had surmised, she was exhausted. She was carrying all of their stuff and also pulling the weight of the girl that could barely keep up. She couldn't have gone far at this pace.

He could have taken the risk to attack immediately, though, he chose to hide behind a bush and observe.

"Get…up there," she said to her daughter in a panting, trembling voice.

The kid watched her dubiously for a second; even she could figure something was wrong. But the woman grabbed her forcefully with her last bit of strength to put her on a branch, so the kid swiftly got higher and out of reach. Daryl figured it wasn't the first time she did that; the girl seemed to fly up the tree with much ease for her age.

Then, the woman leaned against the trunk. Her eyes were scanning the forest around, but they were struggling to stay open. He figured she had reached her limit. Yet, she had to make sure there were no walkers around.

And, seemingly once she was satisfied, she ever-so slightly relaxed, and her body gave up on her. Suddenly, from his distant hiding place, he saw her collapse on the ground.