Resurrection

Chapter 14 - Wrong Way

"These are your new clothes. Put them on after your shower. We're gonna dispose of your old stuff in the mean time" the soldier said and shoved a pile of clothes to Daryl's chest. The hunter grunted and looked at the simple black shirt and the old pair of jeans. When he raised his head again he could see that the soldier was still standing there, right in front of him, eyes fixed on the hunter and waiting.

"I ain't gonna do shit til you move your ass outta here."

"Sorry, can't do. I got my orders. We gotta keep our eyes on you. 24/7."

Daryl raised an eyebrow at this.

"Why, cos you lost the other little weirdo before all this?" he asked and stared at the soldier, hoping to get some answers, but the other man wouldn't say anything to that.

"Guy looked like me, didn't he?" he asked and then looked at the other soldier.

"'s why all y'all think you know me."

Once again: no answer. No one to confirm his suspicion. Daryl let out a frustrated sigh and looked at the man in front of him once more.

"If yah want me t'get the muck off, better get going, sunshine" he snarled and moved closer to the man, up to his personal space so he could get the point across.

The soldier smirked and shook his head, not feeling intimidated at all.

"Just like I said. Can't do, sunshine"

Daryl cocked an eyebrow at this.

"Listen. I get that this ain't about orders, and maybe yah get off watchin other guys or some crap like that. But I ain't into this gay shit"

The soldier snorted.

"Yeah, I bet."

"Watcha prattlin about, jackass?" Daryl snarled and moved even closer to the man.

He tried to act all aggressive and manly, simply because Merle had raised him like that.
And he was pissed because of that remark, that was true, but he couldn't help but feel embarrassed because he knew what the soldier was implying.

"I said.." the soldier answered and moved closer as well, but before they could get into a fight the other soldier suddenly moved up to them and placed a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Just leave it be, Neil. What's he gonna do anyway. Drown himself? Look, there ain't no windows, no doors. Just leave the fucker be. They came here after all.
He ain't gonna run."

"Yeah, better listen to your friend" Daryl joined in and the soldier glared at him for a bit longer, only to let out a frustrated sigh.

Both guards turned around and headed for the door.

"Cocky son of a bitch" the man Daryl had threatened said and the other soldier placed a hand on his back once more to pat it.

"Let the guy talk, man"

Daryl watched the men leave and waited a bit longer to make sure they were gone. There were many reasons why he wanted them to be gone. The most important reason was that he didn't want them to see his scars, hell, he didn't want anyone to see him naked in general. The other reason was in the back pocket of his jeans. He searched it and looked at the door once more, only to grab the pocket knife and look at it. He snorted when he saw the clover on it.

Fuckin cliché. Stupid leprechaun, he thought and then put it in his new pair of jeans, which he obviously didn't like at all. He considered hiding his old clothes but knew it was useless. They were going to find them and throw them away anyway. And what made the whole thing even more pathetic was the fact that they had given him a real shirt. No buttons. And stupid sleeves.

This was going to be fun.

He got rid of his black shirt and looked at the stitches on his chest and rubbed them. They still made him feel uncomfortable and he hated them, but all the different doctors had done a pretty decent job with the whole thing. The wound was healing and didn't hurt so much anymore. Daryl got rid of the rest of his clothes and then stepped under one of the many showerheads, only to let out a surprised gasp when hot water hit his face. He wasn't used to hot running water anymore, and it took him some time to get used to it. But once he did he actually welcomed it, and moved around a bit, to let the water run down his exposed neck. He could see the brownish water run down the drain and was a bit surprised. He knew that he was dirty all the time, but that he was so coated with dirt. Maybe it was a bit embarrassing. Maybe it made him look like a brainless hick, but he honestly didn't care.

He saw the soap but then shook his head with an angry growl, because now this was just retarded. He liked being dirty, without all that stuff to cover up his scars and face he just didn't feel right. He felt vulnerable and just plain naked, despite the fact that he obviously was naked. He prayed to god that those soldier dumbasses wouldn't come in here, or even worse, bring Connor in here as well. But he was torn right there. He hated to be separated from his friend, especially when he didn't know the people around them, or what they planned to do with him. He wanted Connor to be here simply so he could keep an eye on him, but he also didn't want him to be here for obvious reasons.

Now that he was all alone and the constant rhythm of water raining down on him could be heard it made him get lost in thoughts once again. He still couldn't stop thinking about his suspicion. It was -obvious- that this whole facility was keeping something from them, from him. They were acting way too weird around him, and the fact that they wouldn't answer his questions regarding this other immune stranger told him enough.

He needed to find out more about what had happened here, although he was unsure what he was supposed to do with the information as soon as he got it. What if he really discovered that it was all true? Could he really keep all that shit from Connor and be selfish about it? They had reached a point in their relationship where honesty and trust really mattered. They had built it up to all that. You -needed- to trust your friends these days and you needed to -earn- this sort of trust these days. Otherwise it would just get someone killed.

And he knew that.

Daryl let the water run but stepped outside the spray with an annoyed sigh and decided to leave it be. He wanted to annoy this team, use up all their hot water so they had to take cold showers later. No one made him take showers without paying for that. Ha, take that, asshole he thought to himself but soon his mind drifted again and he started thinking about the whole Connor-Murphy business once more. The whole thing was getting ridiculous, really. Ever since those two women had ambushed them he was acting like a crazy psycho. He was too possessive of Connor, had always been, and Merle's death and the two bites had just made it worse and worse.

He needed to calm the fuck down, he kept telling himself and rubbed his torso dry with a towel. He was Daryl Dixon. The guy who had been perfectly fine on his own back in Atlanta. He didn't need anyone. Even if the whole Murphy thing was true. He would let the two leprechauns leave and so be it. The whole thing was just temporary anyway. He had never asked for this sort of friendship after all.

He was doing just fine on his own.

Daryl put on the clothes he'd been given and made sure that Connor's pocket knife was safely packed inside one of the small pockets of his jeans.
He then got rid of the condensed water on one of the mirrors, only to look at his reflection with an angry frown.

He looked absolutely ridiculous like that.

Hair plastered to his head and dripping wet. Simple black shirt with sleeves that made him feel uncomfortable and hot. He wanted to rip them off but couldn't. And what made him feel even more awkward was his clean face. With all the dirt gone he didn't really look all tan anymore. The crusts of dirt had kept the sun from burning his skin too much, now he even looked a lot paler, especially with that hair that seemed to get darker and darker with every month that passed.

He looked ridiculous, a whole lot younger, and a whole lot less tough. Dirt meant you knew your way around the woods. Dirt mean you knew how to keep yourself alive and hunt and not be afraid of anything, dirty, injuries, anything dangerous. Being clean and tidy meant that you were one of the city guys. Living inside buildings, never being close to a tree or animals. Clean meant that you were vain, that looks were more important that survival and utility. Clean meant that you were vulnerable and weak, a sissy and diva, like Merle had loved to call it all the time.

Look atcha, sweet lil Darylena. All clean and lean. How 'bout some powder? Huh, some rouge, some lipstick? High heels and a purse?
Merle kept mocking him in his head.

He scowled because he didn't feel like himself anymore.

Connor was right. It had been his idea to get over here. He'd just not expected to get involved with the whole thing.
It was supposed to be about his friend, no one was supposed to care about him, what he looked like or did.

He absolutely hated it.

Daryl grabbed his dirty clothes from the floor and clung to them like they were his armour. Now this was all he had left to protect himself, to keep something of the himself and the outside world. He headed for the door and still let the water keep running. The other guys would have to get their asses back in here and turn it off themselves.

He knew it was childish but didn't care.

When he got closer to the exit he suddenly heard the two soldiers talk.
It sounded like they were oblivious to the fact that he was done and standing right on the other side of the door.

"Jesus, how long does it take one fucking guy to take a shower" the soldier with the deeper voice said, who was the man Daryl had annoyed just moments before.

"Relax. You saw how dirty the dude was. Don't surprise me it takes so long."

The man with the deeper voice, and who had looked like he was the older of the two, snorted.

"Fuckin redneck" he muttered and Daryl gritted his teeth at that remark.

Oh what he'd give to bash this fucker's teeth in.

"So he really ain't our guy, is he?" the younger of the two soldiers asked and Daryl moved closer to the door, now alert and interested in their conversation.

"Shhh, you know the orders, Mitch. Keep your fuckin voice down" the older said and there was silence for a moment. Daryl held his breath and froze just to make sure they wouldn't notice he was right behind them. He was glad that the shower was still running. Now it wasn't just to annoy them, it was also pretty damn useful.

"You know what Smith said. If these guys catch wind of the whole thing we'll get the same freakin hospital incident all over again. You already heard the fucker bug everyone with it. It's a damn miracle no one's fucked this up before Liza got the chance to spill the beans about the whole thing. We're supposed to keep quiet about it."

Daryl tried to get even closer to the door, because the two men had really lowered their voices by now, making it almost impossible for him to hear them.
He managed to press his ear against the cold surface of the door, and tried to breath as quietly and shallow as possible.

"Yeah, I know. But.. d'you really think it's him? The twin brother the kid kept talkin about? The one who shot 'im and left the poor fucker to die?"

"Of course it's him. Just look at the guy. They got the same fuckin face. Ain't no miracle. It's what makes twins twins, dumbass. They share the same face."

Daryl paled when he heard that.

This couldn't be true. This couldn't...

He clenched his hands to tight fists and clenched his teeth so hard he feared that they could break.

"But why's the other guy have all the tattoos? The weird...neck thing and everything. I mean, yeah, I get it. It's gotta be the guy but...it's just.. kinda weird."

The other soldier let out a deep annoyed sigh.

"Whoever's who. I don't give two shits about what they are and what they ain't. What I care about though, is that these guys carry the stuff inside them that we've been looking for ever since this whole outbreak started, and we're so damn close to really finding something this time. That is, if you don't fuck this up for us and they hop the fence again. Now shut. Up" he hissed and the other man chuckled.

"How 'bout you make me?"

The older of the two snorted.

"Oh just you wait til this fuckin shift's over. I'm so gonna make you, you fucking bastard."

There was some more chuckling after that, but Daryl was too fed up with the whole talk.
He walked back to the shower to turn it off, to let them know that he was 'finished' with his shower.
He didn't want them to keep talking, he wanted them to shut up, to not say one single word more.

Because this couldn't be true.
It had to be a freaking joke.

He looked up at the ceiling and noticed the hot steam from the shower.

This had to be the answer. Air vents. They had to be pumping gas through the vents. Gas, that made him hallucinate. Come up with everything he'd just heard. There was no confirmation that his suspicion was true. They were talking about someone else. They had to be. Murphy MacManus was dead, not alive.

He didn't get the chance to ponder on that, because right then the door to the shower room opened.

"You done? It's about time!" the older of the two soldiers snapped, and Daryl grabbed his old clothes tighter.

"Yeah. I'm done" he managed to answer through gritted teeth, then threw his clothes at the man, trying to hit his face on purpose.

"Good, Professor Smith wants to see you."

"All right, it's your turn" the soldier said as he slammed the door open.

Connor looked up from his book and gave the man a frown, obviously not liking the fact that someone disturbed his reading session.

"Come on, get up" the soldier said and Connor let out a gentle sigh. He put the book away and got up.

"All right. If ye want me ta drop my panties fer ye you should be a little more polite about it, don't ye think?" the Irishman muttered and headed for the door, knowing that it would be useless to make a scene and fight when Daryl was nowhere in sight and locked up with probably more of those guys.

"Where'd ye put my girlfriend?" he asked as he stepped through the door and followed the soldiers down the corridors.

When neither would answer would answer he let out a gentle snort.

"Yer quite the chatty ones, aren't ye? Jeez, calm down and let people speak fer once..." he tried to lighten the mood, and grinned when he saw that he had made the younger looking soldier smirk with his remark.

He didn't get to tease the other soldier more, because he noticed a little kid down the corridor, with the professor he'd talked to earlier kneeling right in front of him.

"But...you promised" the little blonde haired boy said and looked at the man, who looked rather angry.

"Ethan, we've talked about this. Daddy's busy tonight, and we can't...:"

"Well, he looks upset" Connor interrupted their talk and smiled at the kid, suddenly feeling a whole lot more comfortable about this place.

Kids were a good sign. Bad guys usually didn't keep kids around, especially when rations were scarce and everything was more than dangerous.

The little boy looked up at Connor, with an angry frown and a scowl on his face.
His father, professor Smith, looked rather surprised by the encounter, because he jumped up and tried to shove his soon away.

"I'm sorry, it's just all about hustle and bustle today. We didn't expect anyone to..."

"You promised we'd be watching movies tonight!" the little boy interrupted both men and Connor looked at him once more, eyes suddenly gleaming with both anticipation and disbelief.

"Movies? What kinda movies, little fella?" he asked and then looked at Professor Smith again.

"If ye mind my asking" he apologized, not wanting to creep anyone out.

"Ninja Turtles!" the little boy croaked and started pulling on his father's leg.

"You promised, Dad! Come on!" he kept begging, obviously annoying his father, who rolled his eyes and tried to get into a proper conversation. But much to his discomfort Connor didn't seem too interested in that part of the conversation either. As soon as he'd heard the word 'movies' he was all eyes and ears for what the kid had to say instead.

"Ninja Turtles, that's kinda cool, actually. Who's yer favourite?" he asked the kid, ignoring the other adults who wanted to make him move.

The boy didn't seem so upset and angry anymore, he seemed to appreciate the fact that someone paid some attention to him and shared his love for movie nights.

"Don!"

Connor raised an eyebrow at that.

"Really? Mine's Leonardo. He gets shi..well he gets stuff done, don't he?" the Irishman said, trying his hardest not to swear in front of a kid, especially when his father was around.

"Yeah, but that's cos everyone loves Leonardo. It's kinda easy because he's their boss. Everybody loves the bosses, but I like Don, cos he's a lot like Daddy" the little boy explained and pulled his father's leg again.

"Eth" Professor Smith said and got rid of his glasses to rub his eyes, obviously feeling rather stressed and annoyed by everything that was happening. Connor picked up on that, and figured that this was his chance to play a couple of good cards on them, to make them like him more so it would be easier for him to get out of here, should shit hit the fan. He knew it was kind of twisted and malicious, but didn't care. He'd always been very cunning in that regard, especially because of his charm, which he knew how to use on other people on a daily basis.

"Well, maybe we got a little more time fer that later, after yer Da's done with me and my friend, aye" he said, and maybe he also did it to get the chance to watch the freaking movie with the kid. He didn't care what they were watching. Hell, he'd even enter the room and watch some stupid chick flick with the nurses. He just wanted to watch a movie, because if there was one thing he missed the most about their old world it had to be movies and television. He'd do anything in fact, just to join another movie night, like the ones he used to have with Murphy back in the old days.

He started walking on his own to let the others know that he was willing to cooperate.
The two soldiers followed him right away to guide him to the shower rooms, and Connor wasn't too surprised when Professor Smith followed them soon after that.

"I apologize for my son's behavior. He shouldn't even be here. Veronica was supposed to..." he started talking and Connor just snorted.

"Relax. He's not te first kid've talked to. 'm actually surprised yer keeping kids here."

Professor Smith sighed and waved at the soldiers to let them know that it was okay for them to fall behind to give them some privacy.

"Yeah, well. Where am I supposed to keep him otherwise? We've got food here, clothes, electricity and 24 hour protection. It's all I've got to save the kid from the outside world."

Connor smirked at that and then eyed the professor head to toe.

"And yer doing that with a bo staff?"

The professor chuckled and shook his head

"No, it's just...he likes to watch all this stuff. And when we got the time and the resources, then we host movie nights for the kids."

Connor raised an eyebrow in surprise and looked at the man once more.

"Kid-s-?" he repeated and the Professor nodded.

"Yes. We've got three kids here. One soldier and a nurse brought their children with them when everything went South."

Connor nodded and had another look around. Although the soldiers did freak him out and he didn't like the way they had welcomed them and now guarded them, he still liked the place a bit more. Because they were more like their group this way. Kids were good. Kids meant that their protectors had a heart, that they were human and cared about others.

"Aye. They shouldn't be out there. That's good. Real good, actually."

Smith sighed.

"To some extent. But still. Everyone has lost someone here. And the movie nights and birthday celebrations, that's just our way to hide the obvious. To keep everyone going."

Connor nodded slowly, because he could relate to that. Even with his cheery attitude and jokes and teasing he still had days where he felt terrible about Murphy's death, and if he was honest then he had to admit that his whole attitude and behavior was just the same act to hide the obvious - that he was hurt, lonely and upset.

"But maybe we can change that attitude now. With you" the professor said and then smiled at Connor.

"I'm done with your blood samples. I'm going to talk to your..." he suddenly paused and looked at the Irishman, which made the latter confused at first, but then he chuckled.

"Friend. He's just..a frienda mine."

"Right. As soon as I'm done talking to your friend and you're done cleaning yourself up we're gonna talk. Because there's a lot to talk about."

Daryl sat in the chair, moving about and using his fingers to drum on the surface of the table in front of him. Once again he was all alone in here, waiting impatiently, with these two soldier pricks right in front of the door, keeping him from storming out of here, keeping him from reuniting with Connor.

He was still clean, all the dirt was gone and for some reason it made him feel like he was freezing because of that, although that was completely stupid and he knew it. He didn't know what he hated more: the lack of woods and his own smell and dirt, or the fact that someone kept him waiting, in unknown, potentially dangerous territory.

The hunter already wanted to yell "Finally!" when the door opened, but refrained from doing so. He just greeted the man he didn't know yet with an angry glare. The guy obviously looked like some doctor or professor, and when he tried to offer him a hand so they could shake hands Daryl just kept staring at him, not moving at all. The man withdrew with a confused and awkward frown and then walked over to the other side of the table, so he could sit down and put his papers on it.

"Well, you must be Daryl then" he greeted the hunter, who just kept staring at the man and still wouldn't react.

"I'm..Professor Smith, but you can call me Daniel if you want.."

Silence.

"I already had the pleasure of meeting your friend, Connor."

"Where is he" Daryl finally answered, eyes fixed on the man, which obviously seemed to freak the other out a bit.

"He's getting cleaned up, like you did, the way I see it"

Daryl raised an eyebrow at that, but the Professor kept talking, preventing him from saying something to that remark.

"So, I examined your blood samples, the ones Elizabeth took..."

"..without asking for my permission" Daryl added and shifted slightly, to hide the fact that he was getting more and more uncomfortable with the whole situation. He felt like some naughty kid that had been called to the headmaster's office at school. Not that he really knew what that was like, considering that he'd hardly ever been in school, but still.

"...and I discovered some pretty interesting things. It looks like I need a couple of answers to make things a bit more clear" Smith went on and Daryl shifted once more, so he could fold his arms and place them on the table.

"Look...Daniel" he said and stressed the man's name in a way that made the other feel even more intimated.

"Let me make some things clear first" he went on and kept staring at the professor, who swallowed and kept looking at the door from time to time, obviously contemplating calling a few soldiers inside.

"First of all: I ain't the important one here. The leprechaun is" he said and there was silence for a while, because it suddenly struck Daryl, the incredible opportunity he got right here. They were both curious and wanted to get answers, so maybe this was his chance to get some more information.

"And I'll cooperate and give you your damn answers.."

Smith nodded approvingly at this.

"If you give me some" Daryl went on and Smith froze.

Both men looked each other in the eye for a while, until the professor looked at his papers and then nodded once more with a gentle sigh.

"Okay, if that's what you want. That's fair, I guess" he said and then looked at Daryl once more. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"We do not want to harm you, you know" he said and Daryl folded his arms with a stubborn frown that said 'yeah I bet' and looked away.

"Or your friend. We're here to save people. Cure them. Restore the old order" Smith went on and Daryl looked at him again.

He still looked rather stubborn and skeptical, but decided to play along.

"Then shoot."

The professor nodded and grabbed a ballpoint pen.

"Your blood samples show me that you got infected with the bacteria of an infected individual, and yet the unknown pathogen that everyone carries inside their brains seems to be unaffected or changed. How is that, have you come in direct contact with an infected?"

"No. Why did that other immune kid run away from here if you don't wanna hurt anyone and pretend t'be the ones who 'just wanna help'?"

The professor put his pen down and looked at Daryl with an unreadable expression on his face.

"An answer for an answer" the hunter reminded the man and kept staring at him just as unforgiving and earnestly.

"If you want answers, then you have to give me some more details instead of just saying 'yes' or 'no'. Everything else is just wasting my time."

Daryl considered giving a smartass answer to that, his usual cocky and pissed remarks, but since he knew that he really wanted answers about Connor's brother he decided to be mature about it and kept playing along.

"I got shot in the chest, I lost a lot of blood, Connor gave me some of his."

The professor raised an eyebrow at that, seemingly intrigued by the answer and getting more and more interested in Daryl's story.
He started scribbling on his papers and went into the usual busy doctor/professor mode.

"That's interesting, what changes did you experience after the transfusion?"

"You still owe me my answer, Frankenstein" Daryl reminded the man, who put his glasses down and sighed.

"He got into trouble back at a refuge center in his hometown. Soldiers tried to suffocate him with a pillow. He had a lot of trust issues because of that. And when one of our soldiers manhandled him and tried to get him out of a hot zone from a war with other residents of this city, he freaked and ran away. He never trusted anyone with a uniform in the first place. He constantly thought that everyone was trying to kill him."

Daryl snorted, suddenly feeling bitter. If everything was true and they were really talking about Connor's brother, then he kind of understood where all that fear was coming from. Not that he sympathized with that bastard though. He still wanted him dead, not alive.

"So the kid was a little..." he said and moved his finger in a circle next to the side of his head while whistling to let the Professor know he meant 'crazy'.

"It was complicated" Smith said and looked down, like he regretted something.

"Now you owe me my answer" he then said and looked at Daryl again, obviously not liking their back and forth.

But the man seemed to be of the honest kind, because he was playing along after all.
Daryl just looked at him, not smiling, not looking angry, but not looking friendly either.

"Walkers wouldn't attack me anymore" the hunter answered, leaving out the part about how he'd heard them whisper and scream, almost like he was communicating with the undead in some sort of weird herd mentality.

"And they still don't attack you?" the professor muttered and kept writing on his papers.

Daryl shook his head.

"Nope. What was the name of the guy?"

The professor looked up at Daryl and gritted his teeth.

"How long since the transfusion?"

The hunter narrowed his eyes at the man, getting angry because he was trying to deny him his turn.

"The name" he snarled and the professor just looked at him.

"David. He told everyone he wanted to be called David" the other man answered and swallowed.

Daryl snorted.

"Bullshit!" he snapped and then got up.

"Now you're just wastin my time" he growled and started walking.

"We can still save so many people" the professor raised his voice and Daryl slowed down.

"Friends. What's left of families. Children, women. We could..repopulate entire towns without having to fear attacks or casualties with the dead rising from their graves. And we can make this place a home..for everyone who needs help or assistance. We didn't decide to broadcast and ask people to come just so we could rob them. Or murder them. That's what these..monsters do outside these walls" Smith went on and pointed at the window, to make it clear that he was talking about the people who had tried to ambush the two friends. Daryl turned around to look at the man.

"For months we had absolutely nothing to work with. I've had an entire group of young, talented students commit mass suicides because there was no way to fight this...thing, this disease. I spent night after night lying to my son and kept telling him that everything was going to be okay although I knew that we were fucked. But then our soldiers found this man, who was taking on this whole group of thugs and he was all alone. And by some miracle he had survived a bite and a headshot wound and he told us he was immune and I just thought..finally. Finally."

He looked at Daryl yet again, but the hunter just stood there, fists clenched, biting his lower lip, looking angry but still listening.

"We were so close to finding a cure, and then he just...slipped away. And we had another bunch of suicides, and believe me, if it weren't for my son then I would've offed myself because it was so goddamn frustrating."

There was a long pause after that. Smith rubbed his face for a while and looked out of the window, whereas Daryl just waited for him to continue.

"And now I've got this" the man finally said and lifted his papers up.

Another pause, and then he finally spilled this precious information, the one that Daryl wanted to know about but really dreaded at the same time.

"Look. I..know that he was your brother. And he later told Elizabeth that his real name was actually Murphy."

Daryl just stared, unable to say anything to that just now.

"I understand that you want to find him now, and believe me, I get that nothing is going to stop you anyway, but I'm begging you here. Please. Just..give us more time to figure this out. Don't make me hold you back against your will. Let's just...get this done with first. Your immunity is of no use if you get killed out there, trying to find your brother. We can make this place work. For all of us. Maybe..we can even find him again. Bring him back. I had a small group chase him. They followed him all the way down to Savannah before we lost contact..."

Daryl finally knew how to talk again, but not without letting out a surprised gasp first.
He had been unaware of the fact that he'd been holding his breath until now.

"He ain't my brother" he said, voice uncertain. He started walking again and headed for the chair, unsure what to do or what to say.

"Just look like 'im" he added and sounded extremely bitter, because there it was again, the hatred, the feeling of being only second best, the feeling of getting exploited, being the tiny unimportant shadow of ghost that was the size of a skyscraper. He sat back down on the chair and let out an exhausted sigh.

"He's Connor's brother" he explained and suddenly sounded defeated, quiet, and maybe even a bit disappointed. Although he'd already known the answer there had been a part of him that had hoped that maybe this was someone else. But here it was: the absolute proof. Murphy was alive.

"Oh...I thought.." Smith said and Daryl shook his head.

"'s kinda complicated. Yeah, they're twins but fraternal or something like that, and yes, I look like 'im but I ain't him, and we ain't related at all. 's why they're both immune though. You're the doc. Hell, I don't know..."

There was another pause after that, because both men got lost in thoughts. Once again Daryl found himself at a two way street, and although his gut told him that it was pretty much settled, he still took his time to think it through. But it was too late anyway. His mind was all set up, and when he looked at Smith again he made the decision.

"You can't tell 'im" he said, certainty growing.

No matter how selfish or even mean that was right now. He needed time to think. Time to come to terms with the whole thing. No matter what he did: he was pretty certain that he was going to lose Connor either way. He just wanted more time, delay it, as long as he could. Smith frowned at that, picking up on how cruel it really was, no matter how much he wanted to keep Connor here.

"You tell 'im, he'll run. Right away. No waiting. No cure. No reason. He knows his bro is alive - he'll do anything" Daryl said with an unreadable expression on his face.

Smith just kept staring at him, unsure if he should trust Daryl or not, but the hunter looked at him in a way that made him understand that he was far from fooling around.

"Do whatever yah gotta do. Keep 'im here. Do your tests, stick him in your fancy clothes and give him your shitty food, I don't care" he went on, jaw clenching because he was well aware of a fact that he was sealing his own fate with that.

"But get two things straight. Two rules."

Smith nodded slowly, awaiting some more information.

"You or your guys don't bring up his brother. Ever. Or names like Boston, tattoos, or the name 'Murphy'. He asks you, you tell him the immune kid -was- a kid. Early twenties. From New York. Come up with a name, I don't care."

The professor nodded once again, even writing it down.

"And hey" Daryl went on and the man looked up.

"Second rule: You look at him the wrong way, I break your jaw. You hurt him, harm him, or touch a single hair on his head the wrong way then I'm gonna kill you, and we're outta here. And it ain't gonna matter how many of your little soldiers you put in my way."

just a little explanation because I'm not sure if I got it across the way I want it:

I like playing around with Daryl's thoughts and problems. I like it whenever he's insecure, when he's thinking so low of himself and when the 'Merle' part of his brain keeps mocking him. I wanna play it like it only got worse now that he's lost Merle but got Connor, although he doesn't really -have- Connor. In Salvation it was more than obvious that Connor was just using Daryl, simply because his depression made him selfish, and it was the selfishness that kept him alive and that kept him from commiting suicide. And in all my other stories I never really explored Daryl's side of the story. It was all about Connor, and what an impact the loss of Murphy would have on him. That was my main reason and idea that got me started on this series after all.

And Daryl didn't care about the fact that he was being used in Salvation, because he was -used- to it, and because he didn't care about Connor at that point. He wanted him gone and appreciated the rift between them, but now the whole thing is haunting his ass. Now that he -does- care about Connor and now that he's really alone with Merle gone it suddenly falls down on him: the realization that his 'friend' used him. And Connor is a retard in that regard, really. He is no man of words of appreciation, he takes shit for granted with Daryl, because Daryl is like Murphy to him, and because he knows that Murphy knew he mattered to him. So it's not like Daryl doesn't matter to him. He honestly does now, it's really not about Murphy any more, but he simply failed to let Daryl know.

And because he still keeps talking about Murphy Daryl thinks he's still being used, that he's still worth shit just like Merle told him in Chupacabra.

And all of this, Connor's blindless and stupidity in that regard, and Daryl's lack of confidence and all his abuse, comes together in this chapter, and it explains his behavior. Connor is the only person left in his life right now, apart from the group, and he's scared shitless of losing him. And he still blames himself for Merle's death, that he wasn't there, and because of all that he's willing to do anything to keep that from happening again. Meaning he'll do -anything- to keep Connor with him.

Pair that with his inability to show affection and emotions towards someone he cares about, and you get obsessed, possessive and violent 'psycho' Daryl. (he's not really psycho, it's just his desperation) Who cares about the guy so much that he doesn't understand his 'feelings' and when he doesn't understand something then he has to fight, and when something unmanly happens like 'loving' Connor, then he has to fight that and get overly manly-violent. But since he doesn't want Connor to leave at the same time he decides to keep shit from him, although he knows that it's wrong and that it's mean, and he absolutely hates it. He just doesn't understand that there's an other 'more adult' option to all that.

And he doesn't understand/believe that Connor won't leave him even with Murphy in the picture, simply because Connor never tells Daryl that either.

So loads of misunderstandings, loads of untold truths, and sooner or later, shit's about to blow in both their faces, and it will!