New chap! Man, I'm writing Judge, Jury, Executioner already! Wtf! But this is a good Connor episode. Because it's all about the innocent/guilty thingy.
Maybe Connor's out of character here but this is a really tough topic. It's the apocalypse. All of the social standards don't apply anymore so the whole saints ideology doesn't apply either. Still need to figure things out. Let's just justify the way I wrote Connor here with this: He loves Daryl almost as much as Murphy. I think he'd choose his brother over his faith and ideology. If it were Murphy who did the beating stuff here I'm pretty sure Connor'd bend his own rules to make them fit his brother's actions. And we still don't know whether Randall's innocent or not. WALKING DEAD WRITERS. I DAMN YOU! *shakes fist*
Really loving this chapter (but not because of the torture!). Especially the Rick/Daryl talk and the way Connor and Daryl are starting to work as a team.

setting: episode 11 "Judge, Jury, Executioner"

Salvation

Chapter 27 - Torture

Rick and Shane returned later this afternoon with the kid still in the back of their car. When Daryl saw them coming he shook his head and sighed angrily. Christ, they're stupid. If he were the leader of the group he would have taken care of it days ago. By putting a bullet to the kid's head. The two policemen were bruised and looked like they'd been beaten by someone and when Lori asked what happened, they just looked at each other and shook their heads.

"We had a little..discussion."

Daryl snorted when he heard this. He felt like he was in some sort of shitty soap-opera. So those two dumbasses were fighting over that bitch. The day ended with just another discussion over the kid's fate and when Rick got started with all his "not yet"'s and "I need to think"'s Daryl had enough. He went back to his own place to mind his own business. As he watched his campfire burn he thought about the whole situation. He kind of wanted to take care of it himself. Because he knew what was good for the group. Eliminating the threat that was this kid. Hehad the guts to kill him. He was tied up in the shed just on the other side of the field. Next to the farmhouse. Daryl grabbed his bowie knife and looked at it. Then he turned his head to look at the farmhouse and shed.

All yah have t'do is go over there and end it. No more discussions. No threat.

He really considered it for a moment but then put his knife away with a sigh. The hunter knew that if he did it now people wouldn't understand. Because they didn't want to. They would kick him out because of this. Because after all those weeks he had spent with them alone now, without Merle, they still thought he was the baddie. Merle, that bastard. If he was still there he would've taken care of it already. Days ago. Probably the moment the kid had stepped out of the car. And Merle, being Merle, would've gotten away with it. Because he really was the baddie after all and people had hardly ever tried to get into a fight with him. Not even Shane. Daryl hated to admit that he was weaker than his big brother. But he wouldn't do it. Because he was afraid of getting kicked out. Not because he was afraid of dying when he was on his own. He was perfectly fine as survivor and could watch his ass perfectly fine. It was the loneliness he was afraid of. In the end even he had to admit that he just needed someone with him. No matter how stupid and bitchy they were.

He was woken up by Rick the next morning.

"Daryl, I need you to watch over Randall when you're ready."

"Why don't yah do it yerself?" Daryl murmured when he got out of the tent.

Rick looked at him for a while and scratched his nose nervously.

"I need you to get information from him."

Daryl froze when he heard this. He knew what Rick meant.

Had he seriously just hinted torture?

Daryl snorted.

Of course he'd come and ask me t'do this sort of dirty work.

"What, now yah take hostage, yah ain't got the guts t'kill him and then yah come t'me so I do all your dirty work? Typical.
Why don't yah ask yer boyfriend, he sure loves a good beatin" the hunter remarked and pointed at Rick's black eye.

"I don't trust Shane on this. He wants him dead."

Daryl snorted again and eyed Rick.

"Who says I don't."

"I know this group matters to you. We matter to you. You went looking for Sophia, you bring us food, you saved Connor's life..."

Daryl growled and turned around to leave.

"Don' bring up this crap. I didn't do nothin."

"I think his group is dangerous. They were armed. They shot at us in cold blood and if they come back they might hurt us. Everyone.
Doesn't matter if they're young, old, women, or injured."

The hunter rolled his eyes. He hated how Rick tried to talk him into this by mentioning people that mattered to him.
He turned around and eyed the policeman for a while. Then he sighed.

"What do yah need t'know?"

He found Randall inside the shed by the farmhouse. Rick and Shane had cuffed him to a chair and when Daryl entered the room he turned his head and looked at him.

"Hey man, you've gotta get me out of here.. your buddies are crazy!"

Daryl snorted and eyed the kid.

"Who says I ain't?"

Randall whimpered when Daryl came closer.

"Man, what's the point in all this now, your people saved my ass! Yah took care of my wounds, why would you do that if you want t' kill me now?
Please, just let me go!"

The way he kept begging made Daryl angry. When the kid wouldn't shut up he clenched his fists and beat him.

"Please, I didn't do anything!" Randall cried and groaned in pain.

"Yeah, I bet" Daryl said and beat him again.

Suddenly the door opened and both Daryl and Randall turned their heads.

Daryl groaned when he saw Connor entering the shed.

"What the hell are you doing here. Aren't yah supposed to be in bed cryin over yer brother or somethin?"

Connor rolled his eyes and limped inside.

"Shut up, what te fuck are ye doing?"

"Please, you've got to let me out! Get him away! He's crazy, he'll kill me!" Randall said and looked at Connor who snorted.

He patted Daryl's shoulder and nodded.

"Aye, that fella's crazy as fuck. But sorry, can't let ye out. None af my business."

Suddenly Daryl punched Randall again.

"Keep your trap shut!"

"Eh Murph, easy!" Connor said and tried to pull Daryl back.

He just shoved him.

"Just leave it. Go the fuck away" his friend growled and the Irishman snorted.

"Yer te one that walked in and asked me fer help with the kid. So what's the deal?"

Daryl eyed Connor for a moment and then wiped his mouth. Randall kept begging and whimpering but they ignored him.

"Rick needs answers. We need t'know what we're up against."

"I told you.." Randall murmured which made Daryl snap again.

"You told me shit!" he spat and grabbed the kid to pin him against the wall. Connor grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him back.

"Murph, stop beatin that fuckin kid!" he yelled and Daryl shrugged him off.

"Get yer hands off me!"

He turned around and looked at Connor.

"If yah don' like what yah see, there's the fucking door. Rick told me t'take care of him and get answers. Now shut up or make yourself useful."

Both men stared at each other for a moment and the Irishman sighed. He looked at Randall then.

"Fuckin tell him what you know."

"I barely knew those guys! I met them on the road!"

"How many in your group?" Daryl asked but Randall wouldn't answer him.

Suddenly Connor approached him until they were face to face.

"He said how many people are in yer fuckin group?" he yelled but Randall just kept panting and groaning in pain.

Suddenly Connor heard how Daryl grabbed his knife. He turned around and looked at his friend in surprise.

"No no no no no, come on man..." the kid murmured and Connor frowned.

"Murph, what te fuck are ye.."

Daryl darted forward and stabbed the floor between Randall's legs.

"How many?" he yelled and Connor stumbled backwards in surprise.

"Jesus fuckin Christ!"

"Thirty! Thirty guys!" the kid stammered and Connor eyed Daryl in shock.

He'd always known that Daryl tended to lash out easily because most of the time he'd felt it himself with all the beatings he'd had to endure the past weeks.
Now that he watched him go crazy on the kid he had to realize what Daryl was really capable off. He was like an animal.

"Murph... I think ye should stop now" he murmured but his friend wouldn't listen.

"Where?" the hunter went on and Randall wouldn't answer again.

Suddenly Daryl grabbed his bandage and ripped it off his injured leg which made his hostage scream in pain.
Connor was suddenly well aware of his own injured leg.

"I don't know! I swear! We were never anyplace more than a night!"

The Irishman was horrified when Daryl placed his knife on the kids injury and started cutting him. What he was doing now was considered torture. A year ago he would've put a bullet to Daryl's head for of that. He'd spent over 10 years killing bad guys who hurt innocent people. He had his gun with him, he could shoot Daryl any minute now to make him stop. But he just couldn't get himself to do it. So he just stood there. Petrified. Horrified because his friend was so broken. So violent. Was this really the guy who'd brought Carol a flower two weeks ago? The guy that had been devastated because of a dead girl he hardly knew?

"Scouting? Planning on staying local?"

"I-I don't know. They- they left me behind."

He kept on cutting him and Connor approached Daryl. He was just about to place a hand on his shoulder to pull him back when his friend looked at him. He was actually threatening him with this look. One more step and I'm gonna stab yah,it said so Connor backed off. He wouldn't leave though because he wanted to step in if Daryl decided to kill the boy. In the end they needed the information, but he didn't like the way they got it.

"Did you ever pick off a scab?" Daryl asked as he kept cutting his injury.

The kid yelped in pain and shook his head.

"Come on, man! I'm trying to cooperate!"

The hunter just ignored him. He guided the knife like an expert and Connor wondered if he had done it before.

"Start real slow at first" he went on and Randall screamed in pain again.

"Fuckin stop now, Daryl" Connor said and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Daryl shrugged him off.

" You tell him man..just...No!"

"Sooner or later, you've just gotta rip it off."

Connor watched in horror how Randall begged Daryl to stop.
How could that man have his brother's face and voice? How could someone who looked so much like Murphy possibly do something so wrong?

"Okay, okay...they have weapons. Heavy stuff, automatics..." Randall said when Connor was just about to make his friend stop again.

Daryl froze for a moment, then he went on cutting him.

"But I didn't do anything!" the kid yelped and Connor chewed on his lower lip.

"He's fuckin right man, fuckin stop it now."

Daryl eyed Connor for a moment and shook his head.

"You keep your mouth shut and fuckin leave now."

He turned his head and looked at Randall again.

"Your boys shot at my boys, tried to take this farm. You just went along for the ride? You're trying to tell me you're innocent?"

"Yes!" the kid shouted and nodded. Connor had enough.

He grabbed Daryl by his shoulders and shoved him.

"That's enough now! Just because he's with a group af douchebags it don't mean he's one af them as well! We don' fuckin know if he shot at Rick!
You can't just torture people because ye thinkthey did shit!"

Daryl snorted and looked at his friend.

"Now's not the time for yah saint crap!"

"But it is! Yer fuckin nuts! Have ye seen yerself in the mirror lately? You look like a fuckin animal! Jesus fuckin Christ, what happened ta ya, man?"

They both just stared at each other for a moment and Daryl grunted. Connor turned around and took over the lead.
He grabbed his friend's bowie knife and looked at Randall.

"How did ye end up with them?"

Their hostage panted heavily and then sighed.

" Oh thank god you made him stop.. These-these people took me in. Not just guys, a whole group of 'em. Men and women, kids too, just like you people.
Thought I'd have a better chance with them, you know?"

Connor felt how Daryl was close behind him. He was nervous and the Irishman knew he could lash out any minute again.

"But...we go out, scavenge...just the men. One night we-we found this little campsite. A man and his two daughters. Teenagers, you know?
Real young. Real cute."

The way he said this last word made both Daryl and Connor frown. They looked at Randall and waited for him to go on.

"Their daddy had to watch while these guys, they... and they didn't even kill him afterwards. They just...they just made him watch as his daughters...
They just left him there."

Connor approached him slowly.

"Are ye fuckin telling me what I think?"

"No, but-but I didn't touch those girls. No, I swear I didn't do..."

"Are ye talking about rape?" the Irishman went on. When he saw how Daryl approached the kid as well he placed his hand on his chest and shoved him back.

"Please. Please you gotta believe me, man. I'm not like that."

"You just told me that you went out scavenging and knew those fuckin bastards do that kind af shit? Did ye say cute?"

"I ain't like that. Please" Randall begged and the Irishman narrowed his eyes.

"Are ye fuckin tellin me you watched them rape those girls and didn't do nothing about it?"

Suddenly Connor pulled his gun and aimed it at Randall's head.

"Connor, yah can't just kill 'im like that" Daryl said.

"Shut up!" the Irishman spat and looked at Randall.

"Please you gotta believe me!" he begged as Connor undid the safety of his gun.

"Refraining fram helping people in need ans being indifferent ta crime's just as bad as the crime itself."

"I was scared, they would've killed me!"

Connor just stood there for a while and eyed the kid. He considered shooting him, but Daryl was right. They couldn't. Not yet.
He secured his gun and knelt down.

"Don't think that saved yer ass. We're gonna make sure ye'll end up in hell boy."

He got up again and turned around to face Daryl.

"He's yers."

When his friend started beating the kid again he didn't say a word anymore. He just stood there and watched how Daryl beat him up.
And as he did so he thought about one word. Just one. Aequitas.