A/N - Lots of feels & action in this chapter, please if you're reading this, leave me a review, so I know if you're enjoying this fic or not. Thank you!
Lx
For a moment that evening, there were smiles and laughter around the group's camp fire. Everybody gathered to eat the chili together, some enjoying it more than others.
"Fuck this is beautiful!" Murphy groaned, spooning another mountain full of the food into his mouth.
"Calm down there fatso, yer gonna bust out those jeans!" Connor laughed, swinging his arm across to playfully hit his twin's stomach.
Murphy swallowed the food in his mouth and snorted, "Fatso? There aint one bit of fat on me ya cheeky bastard!" he chuckled, jumping up to his feet and pulling his shirt up, revealing his toned, pale stomach.
Connor lunged at him, digging his fingers into his brother's belly and tickling him violently. Murphy roared with laughter, whilst showering out numerous cusses in English and other languages. The rest of the group laughed along, looking a little intrigued by the brother's closeness; Romeo wasn't fazed at all, he knew just how strong the men's bond was.
"Con! I swear, get the fuck off!" Murphy begged as his brother tackled him to the floor and pinned him under his legs.
"Who's the master!" the blonde howled, ruffling his twin's hair.
"Ah come on Connor! Ok, ok, ya win ya arsehole." Murphy breathed heavily, his lungs spent from the heavy tickling.
Connor climbed up off his brother and held out his hand to help him up. When they had both finished mucking around, they sat back in the circle of their friends.
"You know, you two have such a close bond." Kerry smiled, "You're both something else."
"Tá sé mo leath eile, ar ndóigh, tá muid gar." Connor looked into Murphy's eyes. "He's my other half, of course we're close."
"Táimid iontach le chéile ón tús." Murphy spoke softly. "We've been together from the beginning."
All eyes were on the twins, a mixture of confused and shocked expressions placed on the group's faces.
"You can speak other languages?" Lorna asked, "Was that Irish?"
"Aye, we can." Connor smirked.
"Aye, and tha' was Irish." Murphy concluded.
Daryl looked mind blown, "You know any others? French?" he asked.
Connor laughed, "Oui ami, je peux parler en plusieurs langues." His Irish accent changed dramatically to that of a french one. "Yes friend, I can speak in many languages."
"I bet you can't speak… " Lorna paused, thinking of a language, "Swedish."
Connor took his eyes from Daryl and locked them on the girl, a mysterious smile crept on his lips, "Jag slår vad om att jag kan. Du är den vackraste kvinnan jag någonsin har träffat. Jag kan inte sluta tänka på dig.." He wished he had the courage to tell her that so she could understand. "I bet I can. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met. I can't stop thinking about you."
Lorna's mouth opened, but no words came out. She just stared at the blonde Irishman for a moment, before trying to speak again, "Wow, that was… good. What does it mean?"
Connor felt stupid as he felt his cheeks blush a little. "Just asking what time the bus was due." He lied. Lorna just nodded and flicked her eyes away from him.
Just then, Murphy got up, a huge grin on his face. "I need ta go fetch something. Be right back." He called as he jogged into the trees, his knife ready in case he bumped into a biter. Connor was too busy blushing and feeling like an idiot to notice his twin was going until he was gone. His reign of panic finished before it began when he spotted Murphy returning with a guitar. Connor knew where this was going.
"Where the hell did ya find tha?" the blonde asked. He noticed the smug smile on Daryl's face.
"I found it last night in one of those cars. I got ya it and hid it in a bush." Murphy looked so pleased with himself, which made Connor's heart melt. "I know how much ya miss playing since; well since, you know." Murphy handed the instrument out to his brother.
Connor stood and took hold of the guitar; he thought he'd never play again seeing as he couldn't afford a guitar. He could feel himself welling up, "Come here ya big softy." He smiled at his twin. He pressed their bodies together, wrapping his arms around his brother's back. "Thank you, brother."
Murphy pulled away and pinched his brother's chin, "Don't get all emotional now dear brother, get playing before I take it back off ya."
Connor suddenly felt embarrassed as he realised his brother wanted him to play in front of everyone. He had only ever played in McGinty's in front of Murphy, Doc and Rocco and a couple of his old friends. It had helped that they were all drunk, but now he was standing before five eager and sober faces.
"Aye, ok. But I'll be a bit rusty." He murmured nervously.
He felt the weight of the instrument in his hands, sitting down and trying to find a position he was comfortable with. After a few practice strums, he began to play.
The whole group fell silent and watched in awe as Connor chose to play 'The one I love' by David Gray.
"Gonna close my eyes
Girl and watch you go
Running through this life darling
Like a field of snow"
Murphy was surprised that his brother was singing as well as playing the guitar. He had always known his twin had an amazing singing voice, but believe it or not, he was pretty shy about it.
"As the tracer glides
In its graceful arc
Send a little prayer out to ya
'cross the falling dark"
Daryl could tell the blonde Irishman felt uneasy and nervous singing. His ma had always forced him to sing to her friends when he was young, she liked to 'show him off' but he too was shy.
"Tell the repo man
And the stars above
You're the one I love"
Lorna watched Connor with admiration. She was having a hard time not jumping on him as it was, and now he was talking French, playing a guitar a singing. The flames from the campfire highlighted all the handsome features of his face; the deep pool of his blue eyes, his strong jaw line and those perfectly shaped lips. She thought it was ridiculous to be drawn in by someone so much after knowing them five minutes.
"Perfect summers night
Not a wind that breathes
Just the bullets whispering gentle
'mongst the new green leaves"
Romeo had never known about Connor's talents. He watched on in shock, along with Kerry. The two of them swayed along to his voice, enjoying the relaxing music.
When Connor finished, no-one spoke, no-ne cheered; the camp was silent, all eyes on the blonde.
"Shit, was I tha' bad?" he laughed nervously.
"Det var vackert." Lorna whispered in Swedish, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "That was beautiful."
Connor swallowed hard, the realisation hitting him hard in the guts. Lorna had just called him beautiful, and more frightening than that, she could speak Swedish and knew what he had said to her.
Before anyone could say anything else, the sound of a car speeding towards camp startled the group. A large, black jeep skidded to a halt in front of them, the headlights blinding them all. The passanger's side door opened, and a broad man with a bald head appeared. He looked dangerous from the start with his menacing face and blood stained hands.
"Nobody move!" bloodstains barked, "I will shoot any fucker who tries something!"
Connor and Murphy snapped into killer instinct, their fingers itching to reach for the Berettas sitting in their holsters. Kerry and Lorna desperately wanted to huddle together, but they sat frozen with fear only a few inches apart.
Bloodstains closed in on Romeo, who was sitting closest to the Jeep. "You will do just fine spick." He leered as he grabbed Romeo's chin with his dirty big hand. Connor could feel Murphy tensing up near him; he knew his brother was about to snap and protect his good friend at all costs. Just wait dear brother; this is not the right time. Connor chanted in his brain, trying to make Murphy hear his plea.
"My boss will enjoy you, he likes them dark." The vile man purred evilly. The man grabbed at Romeo's hair and pulled him towards the car. Murphy flew at the man like a lion, with no warning to his twin.
"Murphy!" Connor yelled as he made after his brother, matching his actions and pulling his guns out.
Murphy had pulled one gun out, and had his trusty blade in the other hand in the blink of an eye. "You take your filthy hands off him or I swear I'll take your eyes out with this!" the dark-haired whirlwind growled, waving the knife millimetres from the thug's face.
Connor aimed his gun at the man's head, "You don't want to mess with him," he started, he had recognised the Russian accent in the man's voice and took the opportunity, "You ever heard of the Saints of Boston?"
Bloodstains let his grip on Romeo go, the Mexican quickly whipped around and pointed his own gun at the man who had appeared from the driver's side. unfortunately, no-one had seen the other man exit from the back of the Jeep and run to wrap his arm around Lorna's neck.
"Hey! Put those weapons down and the little lady doesn't get her neck snapped." The skinny man with thick, greasy hair sneered.
Connor saw red and he lost it. He lunged himself at the greasy haired arsehole, inches away from ripping his face off, when a gunshot rang out. Connor felt the warmth of blood on his back just about the same time his brother screamed out his name. Lorna struggled under the man's headlock, her terrified eyes looking into Connor's. The expression on his face was blank, as his mouth dropped open.
"Mur-" and he dropped to the floor as fast as that, with a painful thud.
By this point bloodstains had grabbed Romeo again and shoved him in the Jeep. The driver took the chance to whack Murphy in the back of the head with the handle of his shotgun as the dark-haired screamed for his motionless brother.
Daryl raged towards the greasy hair with his crossbow ready, "Let her go you fucking arsehole." He spat, wild fury burning in his eyes. He only gave the man two seconds before he pierced a bolt right through his shoulder, making him let go of Lorna's neck.
Kerry tried to reach Murphy, but Daryl was pulling her back, "Stay here with Lorna, I need to get Rome."
Kerry ignored him and ran across the camp, running straight into danger. Blood stains grabbed her by her shoulder and had her thrown in the Jeep in seconds. The other man had Daryl cornered with his gun directly in his face. Daryl knew if he moved, the bastard would blow his brains out.
Lorna stood behind Daryl, sobbing at the sight of her friends laid lifelessly on the floor and at her other friends being kidnapped. Just then, a weak groan came from Connor.
Bloodstains marched towards Connor's body, laughing wickedly, "I see I didn't kill you instantly Saints freak. Just means I get to take you with me and kill you slowly."
He scooped the semi-conscious man up and threw him on the boot of the Jeep. Without warning, the man pointing the gun at Daryl's face whipped the weapon across the hunter's forehead, causing him to drop to the floor as he blacked out. Now only Lorna remained, playing dead on the floor next to the man who previously had her in a headlock.
The two men drove away with Kerry, Romeo and Connor with them. When the vehicle was out of sight, Lorna crawled to Daryl's side.
"Daryl! Please wake up!" she cried, shaking the man hard. The man coughed, his eyes struggling to open. After checking Daryl was alive, she remembered Murphy, and just how hard that bastard had clocked the back of his head. She crawled over to the Irishman, hoping to god that he would also be alive.
"Murphy, can you hear me?" she sobbed, shaking him like she had Daryl. He didn't respond, his body was limp and motionless. Lorna felt a presence behind her, she turned her head to find Daryl kneeling beside her. He looked dazed, his eyes rolling around in their sockets, as he tried to steady himself.
"He alive?" his voice slurred.
Lorna placed her ear on the twin's chest; she mouthed 'thank god' as she heard a faint heartbeat. "He's alive, but he had a massive blow to the back of his head." She ran her hand through his hair, checking it for blood or a wound, "He's lucky there's no cut, or he could have bled out."
The pair tried to ease their rapid breathing, as they sat next to Murphy, hoping that he would come round. Then it hit Lorna again, like a violent kick to the ribs.
"They've got Kerry, and Romeo," her eyes widened as panic set in once again, "Oh my god, they shot Connor! They're all gone!" she cried out.
Daryl wrapped his arm around the girl's chest, pulling her into his own, "Hush now, we will get them back, I promise. But now, Murphy needs our help and we need to keep quiet in case biters heard that gunshot."
Lorna nodded weakly, taking a moment to take comfort in Daryl's embrace. They decided that their best plan of action was to let Murphy rest for the night and hope he woke up before morning. Daryl was a good fighter, tracker and brilliant with his Horton and guns; but they knew they needed Murphy's skills. Most importantly, they needed the passion he held for his flesh and blood; because ultimately, that was the main reason that they would find the others.
They all huddled in one tent that night, no-one wanted to be alone and someone had to stay with sleeping Murphy. Lorna cooled the Irishman's head with a wet rag, and spoke to him softly, hoping he would wake up. The man's eyes scrunched up tightly, his mouth opening slightly as though he was trying to speak. Daryl noticed this too, he looked at Lorna worryingly.
"I wonder what he's thinking." Lorna whispered, stroking a hand through his hair.
Murphy's eyes snapped open; he was alive, he was so sure that whack to his melon had killed him. He sat up slowly, looking for his brother; he wanted to show off about his latest injury, tell Connor that he was invincible and it didn't hurt a bit. Well, that was a lie, it was still throbbing now, but he wouldn't let his twin know that.
He struggled with the tent flap before stepping out into the camp. His eyes scanned the area, finally laying on Connor's figure walking into the trees.
"Con?" Murphy called after him.
Connor turned to look at his brother. As Murphy jogged closer, he saw the pain in his brother's face. That look was familiar; the shock, the fear. The memory of his dear brother being shot to the ground flooded over him, followed by a wave of nausea. Just then, Connor collapsed into a heap on the ground.
"Connor!" Murphy yelled, dropping to his knees near his injured brother.
Connor looked up into the face of his twin, "Ya shouldn't worry like ya do brother, ya'll get wrinkles." He coughed, holding a hand against Murphy's cheek. He felt a tear run down onto his fingers; his precious Murphy was crying, and he hated seeing him upset.
"I'm so sorry Con, I'm sorry I let them shoot ya." He sobbed, placing his hands in his brother's messy blonde hair.
Connor coughed again, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "Don't be fuckin' stupid Murph, none of this was ya fault." Connor blinked slowly, leaving his eyes shut for a moment before looking into his twin's eyes again. "Ya know I've always been proud of ya, no matter what I've said or done, you always made me proud to be ya brother."
Connor's eyes rolled to the back of his head, Murphy yelped, shaking his head, "Don't you fuckin' dare die Con, ya hear me?! Yer not leaving this shithole without me!" The shaking woke the blonde man up again, giving him just enough time to say his last words. "Save me Murph, I don't wanna die, not yet."
Then he was gone. Not dead, but just gone, vanished. Murphy sat on the forest floor, tears streaming down his pale face, his hands outstretched where they had just been in his brother's hair. A voice spoke out from within the trees,
"Wake up Murphy, you can do it, come on."
Murphy shook his head, "I don't wanna live without my brother." He cried out, his voice full of pain and fear, like an injured animal.
"We need you, Connor needs you. Come on Murph." The woman's voice called out again.
Murphy laid back into the leaves, closing his eyes as he drifted off to sleep. He wished he would just slip away, so he could be with his brother. "Please let me be at peace, with him. Please god, he's all I've got, I can't live without him." He whispered, clutching onto to wooden cross on his rosary. He fell into a deep sleep, the images of his brother playing in his mind; Connor getting too excited over rope, the first time they killed as the Saints, the way his brother looked at him after their message from god in the police station.
"Murphy? Can you hear me?" Daryl patted the Irishman's cheek lightly.
Murphy's eyes flickered open, the pain in his head made him roll to the side to vomit. He felt like utter shit, but he sat up suddenly. "We need to find my brother, I need to bring his body back and bury him."
"He might still be alive, they all might. We're gonna find them, don't worry." Daryl growled, imagining himself putting a bullet through that Russian bastard's brain.