Hello! =) And here's another new chapter. Sorry if it's ooc.

Ashley: Omg I'm so sorry! I completely forgot that your name's Ashley as well! I didn't mean to kill anyone with your name! So sorry! :D

Resurrection

Chapter 5 - Brother

316 days ago...
August 14th, 2007, 3:34 am - Hanscom Air Force Base, Boston

"Why can't you just make this easy for me?"

David tried not to look at the Major since he was still pissed and shocked because of Ashley's sudden death. The one he had caused, just because he wanted to get away from this place. The soldiers had put him inside the room doctor Gregory used as his office and surgery. And once again they had cuffed him to the metal frame of the bed.

It was so useless, really. No matter what he did and no matter what he tried, he would always end up in this room with cuffs around at least one of his wrists. It was absolutely ridiculous.

" I'm trying my best to convince people that we need you here. That you're the solution. But you're not exactly making it easy for me" Major Simmons said and grabbed one of the chairs so he could sit down next to the bed.

David snorted and looked at the ceiling.

"Doesn't exactly surprise me that none of the civilians listen ta you. Have ye ever noticed how none of your soldiers will listen to your orders anyway? No matter what you tell 'em?"

He finally turned his head to look at the Major, who was sitting opposite him. Simmons looked very tired and his 3 o'clock shadow was getting more noticeable each day. It was obvious that it wasn't just this base and society that was falling apart. The Major seemed to be losing control as well. Truth was that David didn't really want to know how hard it was to be in charge of so many soldiers and civilians. People that were losing their hope, ambition and some of them even their morality and minds.

"Sheppard told me that you tried to jump the gate before you shoved that woman."

"Didn't shove her. Was an accident" David mumbled and then started chewing on the nails of his free hand. He missed twice because of his bad coordination until he could finally place two fingers on his lips to start chewing.

"You can't just run away. This base needs you. You're a sign of hope. For all of us."

"Don't you see it? There's nothin fuckin left here!" David suddenly yelled and was quite surprised because of his own reaction. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

"Your base is falling apart, Major. Because those people out there already know it. There ain't no help comin, and 'm sorry, but I'm not yer magic cure either. It's been weeks. And your own boys talk shit behind your back because of that. It gets worse with every additional week that passes. Don't you see that they're planning t'take over because you.."

Simmons sighed and rubbed his face.

"Do we seriously need to go through this again?"

"Fuckin aye!" David roared and shifted abruptly, which caused the cuffs to hit the bed frame with a loud cluck again.

"Zach's just waiting until a gate breaks or the fire gets here or god knows what kinda thing's gonna happen sooner or later. And then he's gonna try ta kill me. And maybe even you."

The major raised his head to look out of the windows of the container they were sitting in.

"I've known private Gilbert since the day he first joined the army. And I've known his father and grandfather even before that. He's from an honorable, strong family.
Committed to his country, willing to die protecting its citizens."

David snorted.

"That didn't exactly sound like it last time I heard tha guy talk."

The Major stared at the cuffed man for a while, until it actually made the younger of the two feel uneasy.

"I cannot imagine what you've been through out there" he suddenly said and David just looked back at him.

"How many people you lost, what exactly happened when you got bit and shot. But I can imagine it's been a traumatic experience."

David rolled his eyes and then turned his head away. He didn't want to talk about it. Or hear anything about it.

"It can happen to anyone. And it doesn't matter how much death you've seen before this. This whole thing here? This is new. This is the worst war we've ever found ourselves in. And war changes everyone. Men, woman. You go out there to protect your own country because it is your duty and because you've sworn to die to protect freedom but..when you enter the battle then it will always mark you. I've seen hundreds of strong and brave men return home absolutely broken. Both physically and mentally. It is a glorious act for your country, but the most horrible thing you can do to your own soul."

David just folded his arms as good as he could and chose to ignore the Major, although his words kind of hit a nerve.

"So I get that you have trust issues now, and that you think that everyone and everything is a danger to your life. But trust me, it's not. It's absolutely not. You're safe here. Safer than outside. You're currently experiencing something that we call post traumatic st..."

"Oh Jesus, come on" David growled and then looked at the Major again.

"Someone might've cracked me head, but I can still tell who's the good guy and who's the bad guy. And there's more and more bad guys out there every day. Why do ye think I wanna get the hell away from this place while I still can. This place 's gotten way too shady fer me."

The major raised an eyebrow and now looked curious.

"The..good guys and the bad guys."

David nodded.

"Aye. You try ta kill me, hurt me, or hold me down and yer a bad guy. As simple as that" he growled and then turned his head again because it hurt in that position.

"Fuckin hate guys like Zach 'n Sheppard. Can't explain it. I just do" he added.

"And your solution is to run away from them? Go out there where it is far more dangerous than in here?"

David snorted.

"What else you want me t'do? Kill everyone who does shit and stay here in your little cage until I bite te dust in here? Maybe I would've done that if I could actually shoot a fuckin gun and hit somebody."

The major just kept staring at him and it was quiet for a while. David sighed and rubbed his aching head.

"Just lemme go, Simmons. I got nothing against you."

"How much do you know about your past, Mr McGillan?"

David gritted his teeth and then looked at the other man for a while.

"I had a family, and they got torn t'shreds and died bloody" he said matter of factly, or he tried to sound like it at least.

Truth was that he still didn't know anything about himself even after so many weeks of being here. All the tiny bits and pieces that he remembered, parts of faces, voices and places, there wasn't too much information there to make sense of a whole life. But he figured that pretty much everyone had lost entire families because of that thing, and it just had to have happened to him as well.

"And before that?" Simmons went on.

David pressed his lips together and just stared.

"I..."

He tried to think hard, but just like any other time it felt like every fibre of his brain got clogged up and recalled absolutely nothing. He flexed his uncuffed right hand and then looked at it, stared at the dirty tattoo he had on his index finger.

Aequitas.

He didn't even know what it meant. Although it seemed so comforting and familiar. Like it was just waiting to be spoken out. Named. Defined.
But he just couldn't remember, no matter how hard he tried.

"I don't care about my fuckin past right now, alright? If I were you I'd stop sitting on me ass in here and go out there ta get my men under control."

"I've got just one more question for you before I go" Simmons said and got up.

"What?" David muttered and wouldn't give in now that they were staring right at each other.

"You said your family. Does that apply to your brother as well?"

It was like he could almost feel his blood leave the upper part of his body. David paled and cold sweat started running down his forehead.
The salty liquid burned in his healing headshot wound, but it wasn't nothing compared to the sudden pain he felt in his chest.

He didn't know why he was reacting like this, why it was so hard to breathe and why panic was suddenly rushing over him.
Two seconds ago he had not even known that he had a brother. So why was he reacting like that?

"What?" was all he could say, and Simmons nodded.

"We know that you had a sibling. A brother. Dr Gregory told me not to tell you anything about your past because there could be a shock reaction, but we just can't wait any longer. You obviously have a hard time remembering things. Maybe you just need a little help there. We know you and your brother from news reports shortly before the outbreak. Dr Gregory suggested that we should send an escort team out there as soon as you can tell us more details on your brother's last known location. It might not be too late yet. There is a high possibility that he could be immune to this infection as well."

David was still having a hard time breathing and concentrating, because he felt terribly sick all of a sudden.
His heart pounded in his chest, like he was reacting heavily to something he didn't even remember. Simmons seemed to notice the look on his face then.

"I'm sorry. This must be hard for you."

"What do you mean, 'brother'?" David managed to ask but still couldn't really control his breathing.

Just when Simmons was about to answer his walkie-talkie came to life.

"2-478- Delta to 18-57-Alpha, I repeat 2-478- Delta to 18-57-Alpha please come in."

Simmons moved so he could get it. David widened his eyes and sat up abruptly.

"No, wait! What do you mean by brother?!"

"This is 18-57-Alpha, 18-57-Alpha. What is your code? Over."

There was the cracking of static for a moment and then they could hear excited talking.

"This...s..thi...fuck why is..ot workin..ahh...je...This is Private Lewis from B ..ate. I repeat, Private Lewis ..om B Gate, Over."

"Hey, we're not finished here!" David yelled because he couldn't believe that some asshole had to call in just when Simmons was about to tell him more about his past.

And he'd thought that shit like that only happened on television.

"Yes Lewis, I can hear you loud and clear. State your problem."

"Major! We're...we're having problems with the gate again. Big time. I...I..ink we got a code two here. I repeat. Code two, Request immediate assistance, request immediate assistance. Over."

Simmons relaxed the arm with the walkie and rubbed the bridge of his nose with an exhausted sigh.

David froze right then and there, his own problems forgotten for a moment. He swallowed hard when he remembered the concern in Lewis' voice.

"That doesn't sound too good" he observed and Simmons moved the walkie up to his mouth again.

David started chewing on his thumbnail just like he always did when he was nervous.

"I'm on my way" the Major said and put the walkie down again, only to put his to his mouth once more.

"And Lewis" he said and then there was some more static.

"...es, Sir?"

"Take a deep breath, zero your rifle before you start shooting and aim for the heads and the heads only."

Before Lewis got the chance to answer Simmons had already put the walkie away so he could grab his pistol instead.

"I'll be right back" he muttered, now obviously back in his soldier mode. David just looked at the man for a second, completely dumbfounded, but then remembered why his heart was still pounding like hell.

"Wait! You didn't tell me what's up with the brother!"

But it was too late. Simmons was already gone.

316 days later...

June 25th, 2008 -7:46am, Lake Oconee

Connor craned his neck and faced the sky with his eyes closed. He was still inside the water and didn't even mind the heat of the sun on his face. He actually enjoyed it. He enjoyed pretty much everything about this situation right now. The fact that he wasn't in pain, that both his physical and mental injuries were healing. He felt good. This moment felt good. He didn't have to fear anything. No walkers. No freaky people. No one. It was just him in this lake. Him and his grumpy best friend, who was right next to him and didn't exactly want to get out of the water anymore either.

Daryl had calmed down by now and didn't mind the fact that he had been thrown inside the lake. Just like Connor he enjoyed the silence and good mood after their previous fight, but much in contrast to his friend he couldn't do it for too long. Sooner or later the bad memories would always come back, because he was still at an earlier stage of grief and his brother's death was still too fresh.

"What I'd do fer a cold fuckin Guinness right now" Connor broke the silence and rubbed his wet face.

They were both clinging to the wooden landing stage, arms folded on the stage with feet still paddling lazily in the water.

"And the knowledge that I could be sitting in a pub tonight" he went on and then sighed.

"Except that there aren't no pubs left. Shame that is. There goes my fuckin party, Eastwood movies. Oily disgusting pizza..."

Daryl cleared his throat and then scratched his nose.

"Listen, 'bout earlier..."

"I fuckin miss pizza, man" Connor kept talking to himself and Daryl smacked the back of his head.

"Listen up, 'm trying to apologize in case yah didn't notice, you dumbass."

Connor turned his head and smirked at him after a moment.

"Don't mention it. I know how yer redneck brain works by now. Chill, brother."

He craned his neck again to enjoy the sun some more. Daryl watched him while he replayed their previous fight for a while. He really did feel sorry now, because he knew that Connor had just been trying to help. He took a deep breath and turned his head to look at the abandoned house they had used to crash last night.

"I honestly don't even miss him" he suddenly said and was quite surprised that he had spoken that thought out. Connor looked at him but wouldn't say anything. Daryl avoided his gaze and gritted his teeth a bit.

"I know I should and I kinda do, in a way. But..I'm also glad that it's over. He was my brother and..." he sighed hard and then shook his head with an angry growl.

"But he annoyed the crap outta me sometimes that crazy son of a bitch."

Connor snorted, which made Daryl glare at him. The Irishman waved him off and tried not to do it again.

"Sorry, that was fuckin rude" he apologized and Daryl shrugged.

"Know you hated him. Ain't no reason to sugarcoat that."

The Irishman shook his head and then turned around, so his back connected with the landing stage and he could face the lake.

"'s not how I meant it. It's just...It's not new ta me. The stuff you just told me" he said.

He took a deep breath and got lost in thoughts for a moment. Daryl could see how his adam's apple bobbed up and down while his friend gathered his thoughts.

"Back when Murph died I..."

Connor cleared his throat and shifted.

"Shit, how do I put this..." he muttered and then chewed on his bottom lip for a while. When he finally looked at Daryl he still looked at bit worried.

"Well, y'know how I was. Seriously didn't know how ta live with it. Being on my own all of a sudden. I mean going from being a brother ta being on your own is pretty tough shit. And it was also even more fucked up for me cos me and Murph never spent a second apart but..Apart from all that confusion there was also..relief I guess?"

Daryl raised an eyebrow but waited for his friend to go on.

"It's not like that. I'm not glad he died. I would've died fer him. I'd have done anything for him and 't was my job ta protect him cos I always considered myself the older brother but...as soon as he was gone there was a tiny part of me that was relieved because I didn't have to be responsible anymore? That I didn't have ta take care of anyone but myself? If that makes sense?"

Daryl knew what his friend was aiming at but decided not to comment on it, because they were heading for dangerous whiny talk territory now. Unmanly feelings bullshit talk. And although Merle was dead he could still hear him make fun of them because of the situation they were currently in.

"Although I did fuck up that taking care of meself part big time" Connor said and chuckled to himself like it was a funny and not horrible memory.

"The feeling bad about it 's the survivor's guilt I guess."

"I don't feel guilty about nothing" Daryl grumbled and turned his head to look in the other direction to hide the fact that he was lying.

"Of course ye do. And if ye don't feel guilty and if ye feel fine about everything then you gotta get yer head checked, cos that ain't normal" Connor answered and then hauled himself out of the water so he could sit on the landing stage to dry.

"Yeah well, I had the choice and I chose to keep going. Ain't nothing to feel guilty about" Daryl growled.

Connor offered him a hand to pull him out of the water as well but the hunter just stared at his friend.

"Before we get goin I want us t'be straight 'bout it, alright?"

Connor frowned and wouldn't withdraw.

"About what?"

"Merle" Daryl growled and the Irishman sighed.

"Jesus, I thought we was done with that shit now."

"We are. Just wanna make something clear."

Connor wouldn't say anything to that and just waited for his friend to go on.

"He wanted t'go after me just like you did. Ain't nothing wrong with that. He knocked you out and walked off on his own. So it obviously ain't your fault.
And I don't blame yah for his death, alright?"

The Irishman finally withdrew his hand and sighed. He grabbed his shirt, jeans and shoes to get dressed again.

"Aye" he muttered as he fought with his jeans because they stuck to his wet legs.

The hunter nodded.

"And there's no way 'n hell I could've known that shit. And there ain't no way I could've stopped any of it from happenin."

The Irishman nodded once more.

"Aye. 's what I've been trying ta tell ye all the time" he said and then pulled his shirt over his head.

The hunter nodded.

"I know. Ain't the point. Let me finish. It's this Governor freak's fault and I took care of it. So that part's done. And I could've done the same shit you did to yourself after your bro died, but I chose to do the opposite. Bullet could've killed me easily but I -chose- to survive to be on my own without Merle."

He looked at Connor for a moment and waited for his friend to say something to that, but the blonde remained silent.

"Punchline is that we ain't got nothing in common here. I handled this shit differently and 'm gonna live with it just fine. So there ain't no need for you dumbass to keep askin me about it all the time. If we're gonna make it to Augusta t'gether, then you ain't gonna mention it again. And you're not gonna ask me how I 'feel' about it or some crap like that, alright? 'm just fine. We're gonna be Zen about it."

The Irishman moved his hands in the air with a gentle sigh and shrugged.

"Whatever tickles yer fancy. You can lead a horse to water but ye can't make it drink" he muttered and Daryl nodded.

"We good?" he asked and Connor offered him a hand again.

"Aye. We're good."

The Irishman was just about to pull his friend out of the water when a piercing shriek startled them both. The men listened up for a second and then identified the screams as the ones of a woman who obviously needed their help. Connor and Daryl looked at each other in confusion, and there it was again.

"HELP ME!PLEASE!"

They could hear it echo all the way across the lake.

Connor turned around and started running, Daryl now completely forgotten and alone in the water.

"Leprechaun!" the hunter yelled after his friend and tried to get out of the water just as fast as his friend, but his soaked clothes were too heavy to make it that easy for him.

"Come on, man! Wait for me!" he yelled after his friend, but Connor had already disappeared to run for whoever needed their help.