Chapter 11: I Said I Loved You, And I Swear I Still Do
Connor's hand falls away from Murphy's shoulder, his eyes widening slightly as he struggles to maintain eye-contact with his twin. He didn't think Daryl would go off and tell Murphy about their little encounter earlier in the day. Daryl seemed too shocked by the whole thing to go and run his mouth about it, and he'd always acted like a closed book, anyway.
"He told ye 'bout that?" Connor questions, sitting back against the wall.
Murphy nods, his eyes narrowing just slightly.
Connor sighs, a nervous chuckle bubbling up from his lips and filling the silence around them awkwardly. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to think of the best way to explain himself to his brother. He shouldn't feel so guilty about the whole thing, especially since Murphy's the one running around behind his back and cheating on him, but he can't help feeling like he crossed some kind of line, broke some kind of boundary, not just with Daryl, but with Murphy, too.
Connor's eyes fall to the gun resting beside him once more, trying to gain some semblance of peace. He's never felt more at ease than when he's had that gun in his hands, except for the times he's had Murphy under his fingertips. He has neither now, and it shakes him right to the core.
"I did what I had t' do, Murph. He's takin' ye away from me, little by little, one day at a time, an' it's tearin' me apart. An' I know bein' with him makes ye happy, so I don't wanna come down hard on ye and tell ye not t' see him no more, but it's just killin' me t' see ye slippin' farther an' farther away from me an' movin' in closer t' him. So I figured I could join in on this whole thing, at least every once in a while. Maybe not with both of ye, but at least with him; maybe it'd balance me t' get a taste a' him once in a while, too, y'know?"
Connor is shaking by the time he finishes speaking, and he clasps his hands together, hides them somewhere between his legs, making sure Murphy can't see just how badly they're vibrating. He looks a little bit more innocent, too, like a little boy who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar trying to explain how he was just so hungry and couldn't wait for dinner.
Connor can't even look at Murphy, he feels so ashamed of himself. It was so stupid what he went and did, kissing Daryl like that and thinking Murphy wouldn't find out about it. He'd have come clean soon enough anyway; he's never been able to keep secrets from Murphy. Now he's gone and pushed the wedge between them just that much further.
And what if Murphy decides that he doesn't want Connor anymore because of this whole thing? Connor would rather go off on his own and die than be in the same damn building with Murphy but still be so far apart. That's an ocean he could never cross, because emotional distance drowns much quicker than physical distance.
"Conn," Murphy says his name so quietly he almost doesn't hear him, especially not with all the thoughts screaming in his head.
Connor's eyes dart up to Murphy's face, stay there. Murphy no longer looks upset; rather he just looks sad, like his heart is being torn to shreds right there in his chest. That look terrifies Connor, because he doesn't know how to erase it from his love's features.
"I'm so sorry I hurt ye. I never meant for that t' happen, never meant for any of this t' happen, it just sort of… fell into our laps, y'know? An' if I could reverse time an' take it all back I would, but I can't, and now I'm stuck. I can't leave 'im, Connor, just like I can't leave you. An' I don't wanna hurt ye anymore, don't want ye t' be sad anymore, but I don't know how to fix this." Tears brim in Murphy's eyes as he speaks, and Connor's heart clenches painfully.
Connor wants to feel anger, wants to not care so much how Murphy feels, wants to yell and scream at Murphy and tell him he's an idiot. But he can't do any of that. Murphy just looks so depressed and forlorn and all Connor wants to do is wrap him into a hug and kiss his hair until the smile returns to his face.
And the worst part is, Murphy deserves all of this. Murphy deserves to feel this way, deserves Connor's wrath and fury, deserves a good pop in the mouth just for good measure. Murphy went and fucked everything up, and now he should be paying the price. But it's a toll Connor just can't enforce, because he loves Murphy far too much.
So he pushes everything he's feeling aside, turns the conversation back to the kiss that started this whole train-wreck. "Are ye mad at me for kissing Daryl?"
Murphy's lips curve up into a near-genuine smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes.
"I'm not mad at ye. I understand why ye kissed him. I just needed t' hear ye explain it t' me is all." Murphy inches a little closer to his brother, reaches a hand out and strokes a finger over the man's cheekbone.
Connor sighs softly, needing nothing more than Murphy's touch in that moment. Murphy's all he needs, all he's ever needed, and that's why he's willing to concede so much just to keep Murphy in his life. Murphy could go off and fuck every last asshole in this prison, and Connor would turn a blind eye so long as Murphy still came to sleep beside him at night.
Murphy's voice snaps Connor back to reality once more. "I could talk t' Daryl, see if we can add ye in sometimes. An' if not I could probably persuade him t' give ye a round or two. If that's what ye really want, anyway."
Connor nods, a small smile stretching his lips. "Thank ye, Murph."
Connor doesn't bother saying that that's not what he really wants; Murphy wouldn't listen anyway.