Resurrection

Chapter 13 - Questioning

"I'm sorry about the harsh welcome. You know the drill. Standard procedure."

Daryl stared at the woman opposite him, feeling extremely uncomfortable. There were just the two of them in this room, although he knew that soldiers were waiting just outside the door. The room weirded him out, really. It was too clean, too sterile, there was light and it smelled like hospital. It wasn't like your typical hospital, though. It was a whole lot smaller and looked like some other university building, but the smell was unmistakable. Daryl had a look around the room and shifted in his chair, feeling terribly out of place. Even the woman looked pretty clean with her pigtail and friendly smile. The whole thing made him all too aware of all the things he was: dirty, and smelling like dirty sewers and rotten meat.

Great. Of course he had to smell like shit when he was meeting a female stranger.
Not that he trusted her, or that he wanted or could flirt with her, but still.
The hunter hissed when the woman buried a needle in the crook of his arm and tried to get away.

"Easy. I don't remember you being so fidgety."

Daryl frowned at that remark, but decided to ignore it just now. There were more important things he needed to know.

"Where's Connor? The other guy?" he muttered and looked around the room once more, only to fix his eyes on the door.

The woman leaned in to get a closer look at his face, which made Daryl flinch and then turn away. The near freaked him out, and he didn't know why she was doing that.

"I ain't the one you should be checkin out, lady" he muttered, still trying to get away.

The woman chuckled and then pricked his arm again, but this time so she could get some blood samples.

"You and I both know that you are just as important as your friend. Really, you coming back, that's a good choice. You're making this a whole lot easier for us" she said and then suddenly grabbed Daryl's shirt to open his buttons.

The hunter really freaked out then and jumped up.

"Hey, get your hands off of me!" he snapped and tried to button his shirt back up in a hurry.

The woman looked at Daryl for a moment, completely in shock, eyes fixed on the hunter's naked shoulder. She put her syringe down and got up.

"I'm...I'm sorry. I'll...be right back" she said and fixed her eyes on him again, as she made her way to the door.

Daryl started pacing up and down the room, freaked out by everything, how clean it was, how quiet it was, how wrong and just freaking scary it was. There were no woods to hide in, there were no walkers, they had taken his gun, knife, and crossbow, and he knew that he was surrounded by army men and doctors. And he didn't know where Connor was. He startled once more when the woman closed the door behind herself. When he realized that he was all alone inside the room he ran for the window. He knew that they were at least five stories above the ground, but maybe there was something...he cursed when he saw that there was nothing below the window. No balcony, no pavement. The building was right by the river, whose waves reached up to the foundation now. There was nothing between the building and the river, whose water line had risen up over the past year.

Great.

So there was no way to get out of here either. He turned around and glared at the medical instruments, but there was nothing useful here. The woman had taken everything with her. He started walking again, up and down, up and down, like a trapped nervous dog, faster and faster, getting more nervous with each step. He was trapped, and he absolutely hated it.

"How long since your first infection?"

"About eight or nine months. Lost track of time."

"How long since your second infection?"

"A couple of weeks. Maybe a month."

"How long did it take your body to fight your first infection?"

"A couple of weeks."

"How long did it take your body to fight your second infection?"

Connor rolled his eyes and gave the man an annoyed look. He appreciated their help and interest. Really. They had given him some water, a new pair of jeans.. But even with all that the whole questioning thing annoyed the crap out of him. Especially when he was all alone with them, and didn't have a effin clue where his friend was.

"Maybe a week. Listen, can't ye figure that shit out yer own? Like with...ow! Aye, exactly, with that kinda shit" he said and winced when the doctor took some blood samples.

The doctor smirked and rubbed the crook of the Irishman's arm with a cotton wool wad.

"You sound just like your friend" he said and Connor snorted as well.

"I bet he's less polite 'bout it. Speaking of which, where te fuck is he?"

The man put the samples on the table and then moved closer to Connor, so he could take a look at his bare shoulder with the healing bite wound.

"He is doing just fine. He should be used to the whole procedure by now. It's standard protocol. We...have to make sure you don't carry any other diseases into our facilities. We didn't have a casualty since February. We're very proud of that and we want it to stay that way, don't we?" he asked and looked at the Irishman for a moment, who stared back at him with a wary frown. The doctor resumed his work and Connor winced visibly because he still hated to be touched there, the pulsating bite wound that seemed to get better, and sometimes worse.

"You two've got some interesting tattoos there. Are you in some sort of clan or something? it's a rather striking piece of work."

Connor rubbed his neck and shook his head.

"Nah, not a clan. Just a buncha tattoos."

Ain't none of your goddamn business he heard Daryl answer in his head, which made him smirk. He didn't really trust these people either, but ever since the incident back in the parking garage no one had pointed a gun at him or threatened his life again. Quite the opposite. And since those doctor people had always been nice to him and even apologized for the rough welcome he didn't see the point in being overly aggressive and pissy to them. But even with all that it didn't mean that they needed to know everything about him or his friend. He watched the doctor for a while, how he would check out the wound, sometimes move his fingers over it, sometimes use some weird medical instruments, and soon Connor felt rather awkward, so he kept talking. He turned his head to look out of the window and let out a gentle sigh.

"And you think yer gonna find a cure" he muttered and the doctor nodded.

"We're absolutely positive about it. And now that we got you both over here I think we're going..."

He stopped talking and looked up when the door suddenly opened. Connor turned his head with a raised eyebrow to see who was disturbing their conversation.
A younger woman was standing by the door, and she looked rather excited.

"Professor Smith. I need to talk to you" she said and then looked at Connor.

"Alone."

The man let go of Connor with a sigh and nodded.

"I'm right behind you" he said and then looked at his patient, who looked rather sceptical.

"I've got everything I need for today anyway. You can get dressed. Ramirez is waiting for you outside. He will take you to your room. I'm sure you must be hungry. We'll give you some more food and let you rest for a bit. It's going to be a tough day tomorrow" he explained and then got up. Connor did the same and then grabbed Smith's arm to stop him from walking away.

"Woah, wait. I got a whole buncha questions fer you fella and you can't just..."

Professor Smith moved both his hands up in the air and tried to walk past the Irishman.

"We'll...get back to that as soon as I'm done talking to Elizabeth. Just...take it easy" he said and manage to get past Connor, who put his shirt back on in a hurry and walked after the man.

"Hold on though, where'd you put Daryl? I ain't going anywhere without him, I need ta talk to him."

"We'll send him over as soon as we're done talking to him."

"That's a lotta talking ye gotta do before I get my answers, don't ye..." Connor tried to answer, but then Professor Smith slammed the door shut right in front of the Irishman, leaving him all alone inside the room.

Connor was pacing up and down the small room that looked like it had used to be some sort of office. There was a table, a couch and a whole lot of books in here, and just like all the other rooms he had been in the place looked pretty clean. If you didn't count the fainted bloodstain on the white wall right next to the door. It looked like someone had tried pretty hard to get rid of the blood, but no matter how hard they'd tried, you could still see that someone had been shot right there.

The longer the Irishman had to wait the more paranoid he got. His stressed mind came up with all sorts of things. What if they had executed someone here? Someone just like him? Intruders, survivors, the other immune kid? Everything Bob had told them about this place had become true: he was pretty much trapped in here. As soon as they had shoved him inside here they had locked the room, and even now he could hear the two guards breathing right in front of the door, guarding him like he was the president or something like that.

You go in there, they ain't lettin you out. It's like prison, but with needles, scalpels and nerds and shit.

He had wanted to come here, and yes, he wanted to find a cure, but for some reason he'd thought that this would be easier. He knew that it was foolish to believe they would treat him like a king and do whatever he wanted, but still. People who were looking for a cure and trying to help mankind had to be good people, right? Except that they didn't seem good. Or maybe they were, whatever they were: everything freaked him out as long as he was all by himself, with Daryl gone, with his brother gone. He didn't like to be alone. He hated that shit because it reminded him too much of this dark past time of his life. He needed someone to talk to, someone to keep him company, someone he could trust.

Connor moved his hand through his messy hair and then kept walking up and down, up and down, faster and faster, until he had enough and just sat down on the couch. He figured that he couldn't do shit about it, especially since they had taken all of his weapons. He did have his duffel bag, but they had searched the whole thing and let him keep only the most useless stuff.

For a moment he just sat there, but apart from the nervousness he was also pretty bored, so he got up again and took a closer look at all the books. He was getting so desperate that he actually considered reading a freaking medical encyclopedia, but right then the door finally opened. Connor put the book back and turned around in surprise, only to let out a relieved sigh when Daryl was shoved inside the room. It looked like it had taken another two soldiers to get him here, because even now the hunter kept complaining and shoving at them.

"Get your fuckin mitts off me!" he snapped at the soldier.

One of them grabbed the door handle and kept the younger Dixon from running back outside.

"Wait here. Don't do anything stupid. Elizabeth'll get you something to eat later. You must stay put and wait for orders."

"How 'bout I give you some goddamn orders, Forrest Gump?" Daryl snapped and tried to go after the soldier, but right then the door was pulled shut.

The hunter kicked the door once with an annoyed growl which made Connor smirk.

"Already tried that. Didn't help much" he said which made Daryl turn around and look at him.

The Irishman came right at him and wrapped an arm around his friend, so he could pat his back and hug him.

"Good t'see yer still in one piece" he said and Daryl was quite surprised by the sudden hug, but he kind of welcomed it after all the mess they had been through today, and he was really glad when he realized that this also meant that Connor was no longer pissed at him because of yesterday. But just like any time he hardly let his friend know that he actually appreciated the hug. Maybe he patted his back once as well, but this was about it.

"Hardly" he grunted and then Connor stopped hugging him so he could take a closer look at him.

"They do anything weird?"

Daryl snorted.

"Nope. I'd like t'see them try."

"They do the same shit? Blood samples? Questioning?" Connor went on and then started grinning.

"Te whole alien abduction probe kinda thing?" he went on and then gently slapped Daryl's right cheek with a chuckle.

"Har har" Daryl muttered and fought his chuckling friend off.

He took a look around their room with an angry frown.
Just like before he thought that it was too clean, too small, too sterile. Except for the weird blood stain on the wall.

"Home sweet home" Connor said and sat down on the couch, which made Daryl look at him once more.

"What?" he asked and folded his arms with a frown. Connor looked up at him and frowned just as much.

"What'd you mean, 'what'?"

Daryl leaned against the wall next to the door and snorted once more.

"We just gonna let 'em lock us up? Sit ducks and do nothin?"

Connor put his feet on the small coffee table and shrugged.

"It was yer idea ta go here and 'find a cure'."

The younger of the two friends turned his head so he could look outside the window.

"Yeah, except that the place ain't sittin right with me."

Connor let out a gentle chuckle.

"Aye. Cos no fuckin place is sitting right with ye. 's nothing we can do about it anyway. We're seven stories above te ground, the door's locked and there's soldiers fuckin everywhere. Relax. It's not te end of the world."

Daryl raised an eyebrow at that, but when he looked at his friend again he noticed that Connor was pointing at the window.

"'m sure they're nice people" the Irishman went on but got up to head for the window.

H e crooked a finger at Daryl to let him know that he was supposed to follow.

"I mean they're givin us food and clothes, can't be tha bad, can it?" he said, and maybe a bit louder on purpose, just to make sure that the soldiers outside could hear it.

Both men headed for the window and came to a halt right in front of it. Connor moved closer to Daryl, so they were right next to each other and could start whispering..

"See that window over there?" he muttered and pointed at a window to their right. They were facing the right wing of the building.

"'m pretty sure that's te stair case. I got the whole fuckin layout of that part of the building in here" Connor went on and pointed at his head.

Daryl looked at his friend and raised an eyebrow, although he knew that the Irishman really was that smart.

" Also, did ye see the fucking nurses? Been too long since I saw someone so fuckin cute, maybe I can get something going there" Connor said a lot louder, and kept staring at Daryl with that dickish grin all the way through saying this. The whole saying that but looking at him made the hunter narrow his eyes at his friend, which made Connor grin even more.

"Seven floors, we're at te top floor, right wing of the building got te stair case at the far end with three rooms per side down the corridor. Probably offices like this one, not much space fer too many soldiers. And there's a fuckin rain gutter right there."

Daryl and Connor stared at each other for a while. The hunter let out a gentle sigh.

"Yeah, you're right. Can't wait for this Nancy chick to bring us food" he raised his voice, because he wanted the soldiers to hear what he said.

"The rain gutter" he murmured after this and looked down.

They were pretty high up here, and once again he was facing nothing but water at the bottom. There was just this building, and the river.

"Don't get yer panties in a bunch. It's just in case we need ta bail out quick. Let's just give this place a fuckin chance first" the older of the two friends whispered and then hit the hunter's back. He walked away from the window and got back on the couch to leaf through an old magazine.

Daryl looked out of the window for a bit longer and then finally turned around.
He leaned against the window sill, folded his arms and eyed Connor head to toe.

"So what'd they do exactly? They tell you anything? What they plan to do with your immunity weirdo stuff?"

Connor shook his head and looked up again.

"Not a damn thing. I tried ta get anything out of this guy, but he wouldn't spill. He just did the usual stuff, take blood, ask too many fucking questions and put his fucking mitts all over me. All he said was that 'it's gonna be a tough day tomorrow'. Whatever te fuck he meant by that."

Daryl just looked at his friend, discomfort visibly showing.

"I don't like it" he muttered and looked out of the window again.

"Maybe we shouldn't have come here."

"They tell you anything?" Connor interrupted his little monologue and Daryl rubbed his dirty face as he shook his head.

"Nah. They did the same shit. Take blood, ask stupid questions. No matter how many times I kept tellin them that I ain't the one they should be checkin out. That nurse girl was pretty weird about it" he said and Connor frowned.

"What'd you mean 'weird"?"

Daryl just looked at the blonde for a while, unsure what to say. He'd had some time after the nurse had left the room, time to think about everything he'd heard and seen ever since they got here. Everyone was acting weird around him, like they already knew him, although that was absolutely impossible. He remembered all the things this nurse had told him, all the things Bob had said.

You know the drill.

I don't remember you being so fidgety.

You and I both know that you are just as important as your friend. Really, you coming back, that's a good choice.

The look on her face when she saw that his shoulder was clean.

Think he came all the way down here , he was from somewhere up North?

It was absolutely ridiculous and impossible and he knew that. But he couldn't stop thinking about it ever since they had set foot inside this building, hell, even this city. The only logical explanation why all these people seemed to know him had to be the fact that they recognized his face. He knew only one person who kind of looked like him. He'd seen the picture multiple times after all. And it fit, really. Immunity. Bite wound on his shoulder. Coming from all the way up north. Boston. Similar blood. His face. The only person who fit this description had to be Connor's brother. Murphy.

But this was absolutely impossible. Everything about it was impossible. The fact that someone else could be immune, that someone else could survive a bite wound and have his face. There couldn't be three people who shared the same face, right? That was absolutely stupid. But what was even more impossible: Connor's brother couldn't have possibly survived a headshot wound, be immune and make his way down to the very same fucking state as Connor. America was freaking huge. Even if this Murphy guy was still alive, they couldn't possibly travel to the same city.

Maybe he was just freaking out. He tried to keep telling himself that. Maybe this was just a reaction to what happened last night, when Connor had said the guy's name. Murphy -was- a threat to him, so he wasn't exactly surprised that he was freaking out because of all that.
Maybe it was a coincidence. It had to be.

But what if it wasn't? What if it was all true?

He looked at Connor, and it really looked like the guy didn't have a clue. He hadn't been there when the nurse had said all those things, and he was pretty sure his friend would've freaked out by now and told him everything about it if he suspected the same thing. But Connor didn't look like it, he was back to his usual cocky and yet smart and patient self.

And Daryl suddenly realized that he was now facing a two way situation. He had started this conversation, aimed for this very topic. He could tell Connor about his suspicion. Freak him out, and it didn't matter if it was true or not. He knew that his friend would be a complete mess, that he would raise his hopes, and he just knew that Connor would search every inch of the entire state of Georgia just to find his brother again. Then there was the other option: he could remain silent. He could lie. And he hated to admit it: but he sympathized with this option. The reason for that was simple: he didn't want to lose Connor. He wanted to keep him all to himself, he didn't want to share or be the third wheel. -He- wanted to be the most important person in the guys life, although he knew that the only reason why he was that was because Murphy wasn't there anymore.

Daryl knew that it was selfish. Even mean. But there was no way he'd gone through this shit, saving Connor from killing himself, becoming his friend, getting him out of his depression, that he'd done all that for absolutely nothing. He deserved this privilege. He deserved to stay and be a part of this man's life. And no ghost or not-so-dead guy was going to take that away from him. He shook his head and then turned it away, just so he didn't have to face Connor. He knew his friend was very sharp, that he could read people like a children's book, so he looked out of the window to hide the fact that he was lying.

"Don't mean nothing by it. The whole place is just weird. I don't trust doctors and soldiers after what happened back at the CDC."

He could feel how Connor's eyes were piercing his back, but he was relieved when his friend seemed to leave the topic be.

"Aye, right. The doctor fella who nearly blew you guys up."

Daryl nodded and then headed for the bookshelf, so he could keep his back turned on Connor.

"Let's hope they don't do the same shit to us."

They kept each other company in silence for about half an hour, then the door opened again. The nurse, Elizabeth who had taken care of Daryl earlier, entered the room with food and apologized that they weren't allowed to eat with the others. They couldn't really say much to that, because right then two soldiers entered their room once more, fixing their eyes on Daryl.

"Professor Smith wants you to get cleaned up before he does any further examinations. We'll start with you."

Before Daryl got the chance to say anything to that Connor suddenly snorted.

"Aye. Ye better start with 'im. 's gonna take ages t'get all tha dirt off him" he said and got up to walk over to his friend, who was heading for the door with an angry frown.

"Don't drop te soap and watch yer ass, Darylena" Connor said and slapped his friend's behind.

Daryl already wanted to complain and prepared himself to yell at his friend, but right then he noticed why Connor was really doing it. The Irishman used the touch to put something in the hunter's back pocket. He automatically touched the pocket himself and felt something long and slim inside. It didn't take long and he understood what it was: a pocket knife. He didn't have a clue how Connor had managed to smuggle it inside, but right know he was pretty glad that he had it with him. Daryl looked at his friend in surprise. Connor just gave him that certain knowing smirk and then patted his shoulder.

"Go on then. I'm gonna eat all yer food in the meantime" he said and sounded all cheery and relaxed, although Daryl could see that Connor was far from it.

He hated to be separated from him just as much. He knew what the look on his face meant.

Be careful.

" Do that and I'm gonna shoot your ass" Daryl answered, although there was an entirely different silent conversation going on between them.

You, too, the look on his face said, and then he followed the soldiers outside, leaving Connor all alone once again.