Chapter 7

Connor's breath caught in his throat, wide eyes roving the face of the newcomer as if he could permanently sear it into his memory.

Almost seven years, had passed since he'd seen that face, nearly seven years of believing its owner was dead, but now…he was here.

Storm blue eyes were wild, nearly feral as they tracked the Governor predatorily, before they turned to stare at Merle. The convict stared back, face paler than Connor had ever seen it.

"Daryl, I-"

Murphy's eyes narrowed and he shifted around like a caged animal, shoulders tensing and relaxing in intervals. Still he was silent, and for Connor that was more disconcerting than anything. He was the quiet one. Murphy was friendly, and loved to talk to everyone, he couldn't stay quiet to save his life. He was too nice.

Around them, the Woodbury citizens roared for blood, the Governor standing before them with a smug look on his face, and he shared a look with his father.

They needed to get Murphy and Merle outta there.

Merle shifted the lowered into a crouch but before anyone could do anything, four objects sailed through the air and smashed against the floor of the makeshift fight ring, filling the area with smoke. Nodding to each other, the two saints moved toward the two in the midst of it. Four figures moved around them, moving on silent feet, and Connor had a feeling they were the rescue squad. A gun pressed against his back.

"Where do you think you're going?" Growled a voice and he scowled, fingering his own gun nervously.

"Just trying to get to me brot'er."

His captor hummed lowly. "Hands where I can see them."

"What, you a cop?"

"I was."

Snorting, he did as he was asked only for a sharp pain to spread across his skull and drag him into unconsciousness.

Rick frowned deeply as he stared down at the two men they'd taken from Woodbury with Merle and Daryl. He had no clue why, but something in him had told him to grab them, and as a man that listened to his instincts, he'd done so. It was obvious the two were related, perhaps even father and son, but for some reason they both reminded him of the stoic archer slowly stealing his heart. The younger of the two even had the same dry wit that the man exhibited on occasions, from what he'd seen in the few moments they'd interacted.

Beside him, Shane crossed his arms, dark eyes full of concern.

"Think we can trust them?"

Rick nodded. "They don't seem like the type of people to follow bastards like the Governor for no reason. Something tells me that they have to be here."

His partner nodded, glancing at the bed across from the two where Daryl lay unaware. The archer had collapsed around the same time their younger hostage had and had yet to awaken, but from what they could see, other than a few bruises and cuts, he was fine. A quiet groan left the older hostage, drawing their attention back to him, as he sat up, looking around him warily.

He was intimidating, even cuffed, his eyes the same stormy color as Daryl's and nearly as piercing, and yet…the second his gaze landed on the unconscious hunter it softened.

"Murphy." He whispered softly, voice full of disbelief and pain, of longing and love, and both of the former cops felt their hearts tug, because their archer needed more love, more people willing to look out for him. He needed more people willing to see past his gruff, nearly acerbic exterior to the pain ridden soul underneath.

"Murphy?" Rick questioned and the newcomer looked up at them briefly, then looked back at Daryl like he expected him to disappear.

Before he could respond, however, the hunter stirred, stormy eyes flying open and a feral snarl curling his lips.

It shouldn't have been as hot as it was.

"Whoa, hey. You're okay, Daryl. We got you out." Rick soothed and the man calmed, keen eyes darting around the room eerily similar to the way the other man's had only a few moments before. When his gaze landed on their hostages…he froze.

He didn't moved, didn't speak, hell it even looked like he'd stopped breathing for a moment. Then, with all the caution of a wounded animal, he slid from his bed and moved toward the man, ignoring the inquiries from both of the former cops. He reached forward hesitantly, eyes brimming with tears, then jerked away only a few moments before he was able to touch him. A sad smile crossed their hostage's lips and he placed a gentle hand on the hunter's cheek, thumb brushing away the tears that escaped when the younger jolted at his touch.

"Da," Daryl greeted, the word broken and full of pain and Shane swallowed thickly, feeling like him and Rick were intruding on something private and yet, seeing so much emotion from the normally taciturn man, he couldn't look away.

"Sh, it's okay, son. You're okay." The man soothed and a quiet sob left the hunter.

"You were dead. They said you were dead." An imploring look was sent in their direction and Rick stepped forward, unlocking the handcuffs from both hostages, so that the man could hold the hunter. Daryl held onto him tightly, his hands shaking as he fought not to let down his walls.

"They lied, ceann beag. We went back for you, but you were gone. All we found was your blood, we thought you were dead." He replied, Irish accent thickening as his own emotions intensified.

Shane and Rick shared a look, remembering their own experiences. Perhaps this man was someone Daryl had lost at the beginning of all of this. His father, if they heard right.

"Daryl?" Shane questioned, and his…friend stiffened, pulling away from his father to glare at him defensively.

"What?" He growled gruffly, and his father raised an eyebrow at him.

"Who is this?"

Daryl frowned, then his lips twitched like he wanted to smile but couldn't bring himself to do so. His eyes were dark with fatigue and pain, and it almost made Shane want to take back his question.

"My Da, Noah and my brother Conner."

Rick's brow furrowed. "Thought Merle was your brother."

"He is. Ain't gotta be blood to be family, y'all know that."

They nodded. "So your name is Murphy."

"Not anymore." Noah shot him a surprised look but the archer ignored it, standing and they could see him almost visibly withdrawing into himself, uncomfortable with amount of emotion he'd displayed in front of them.

Rick smiled at him. "Judy's awake and fussy. She missed you."

Gratitude flashed in Daryl's eyes, his gaze lighting up at the mention of his little Asskicker. "She with Beth?"

Rick nodded and the archer quickly fled, leaving his father to stare after him bewildered.

Shane placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "He'll come around. Just give him some time to process. In the meantime, get some rest."

Noah nodded slowly, but still looked like he wanted to go after the hunter. Instead he turned to his eldest child and smiled warmly.

"He's alive, Connor. Murphy is alive." He murmured but still the younger man slept on, unaware of the events that had transpired.

Rick and Shane shared a look then left the room to give the small family some peace. Maybe they would be able to get the archer to spent more time with his family later. It looked like the three of them (four if they counted Merle) needed it.

TBC…