setting: episode 2 "Sick"

Damnation

Chapter 11 - Advice

Boston – The Hoag, January 2007

It was kitchen week and also the first day Murphy was allowed out of solitary. Both twins were put in the same shift, because the shift supervisor happened to be a fan of their work and wanted to do them some good. Connor had been excited for this all week. He had almost died because of the separation from his twin. They had always known that they were far more codependent than other siblings, but they had never suspected that it really was so intense. Back in the old days, when they had not been in prison yet, they had been perfectly fine with being apart for a couple of hours or days, although they prefered to stay together anyway. But now everything was far from fine, and every single solitary confinement made the pain worse, because they were not used to being a person of their own. It was always Connor AND Murphy, hardly just Connor or just Murphy, and this was showing now.

The blonde MacManus kept staring at the door as he sorted all the plates and put them in the large automatic dishwasher. It was ten freaking past two, so where the hell was Murphy? He was supposed to start his shift at two, and this was also supposed to be their reunion after one week of being apart. So where was that little bastard? He counted the plates as he put them on the conveyor. One. Two. Three. Four...Twenty, twenty-one.. Connor looked at the clock again. Eleven past two. Jesus fucking Christ. After plate number 243 the door finally opened, revealing another bunch of inmates and then Murphy finally, finally entered the room as well. Connor's face lit up instantly and he let go of the dirty dishes. He approached his twin with that broad smile, but Murphy didn't smile back. Maybe there was a faint smile, but other than that he just looked pissed, exhausted and tired.

"Well look at ye, as dashing as ever, brother" the blonde greeted his twin and put an arm around him to hug him and pat his back.

"Fuck ye" Murphy muttered in his shoulder and didn't want to hug back at first, but then the relief eventually kicked in.

He wrapped both his arms around Connor and hugged his twin back. The other man chuckled and rubbed his brother's back.

"Are ye alright, Murph?"

"Aye" the younger twin muttered and let go, but when Connor looked at him he saw that Murphy certainly wasn't alright.

But the blonde didn't want to ask just now, because the other prisoners were watching and there was no time for showing affection and worry. Both MacManus twins turned around to get back to sorting the dishes, and once Connor had made sure that no one was watching he put a hand in his prison overall and nudged his sibling.

"Tsk, Murph" he muttered and Murphy looked at him.

Connor kept staring at the prison guards who were keeping watch but pulled out a whole bunch of cigarettes.

"I got those fer ye" he muttered and put them in his twin's pocket.

They weren't allowed to smoke in here, but the older twin had been waiting for this all week. He knew that it had been Murphy's fault when he got locked up in solitary, and he had been mad at his brother and at the guards because of that, but now he wanted his twin to have a little something, to relax and calm him down after all the fights and being alone and all the shit that had happened for the past week. Murphy felt his pocket and looked at Connor with an angry frown.

"Where te hell did ye get those? Are ye fucking mental, I don't wanna be locked up again cos of yer shit" he growled and eyed the guards nervously.

It was one of those bastards who couldn't stand them and did not understand their mission, and there certainly was nothing like sympathy going on here because of that.
Connor hushed him and grabbed another bunch of plates.

"Shut it. I won them in a fucking card game. People are dull as fuckin bricks as here. I found a new bunch of assholes who don't know bout my skills with te cards yet."

Murphy snorted and shook his head. He still didn't get how Connor could do all that, trade with prison scumbags or even interact with them and form some sort of business relationship, but somehow his twin always did it. He was the one providing them with what they needed. Smokes, information, even alcohol. Back in the old days Murphy wouldn't have thought anything about it because this was the way they worked, how Connor worked. But now it just pissed him off and made him jealous. Because somehow his twin didn't have any problems with fitting in here, coming to terms with being locked up. He didn't seem to mind the bars, the aggression. He kept to the rules, both the prisoners and the guards' and he had even earned some respect and got some extra treats.

And then there was him, Murphy, the trouble maker, the one that got into fights and got locked up in this fucking tiny and inhumane solitary cell all the time. Right now he was jealous of his brother because of that, and he even hated him and his stupid fucking cigarettes. He didn't want to be treated like a fucking child all the time. But it was well true that he needed a whole bunch of smokes, which was why he wouldn't throw them in Connor's face. He just stared at the dirty plates and sorted them with mixed emotions. On the one hand he was so incredibly glad and happy to be with Connor again. He hated solitary more than anything, because he was not used to being alone and he needed his twin with him. On the other hand he was annoyed by his twin for obvious reasons, how the blonde could be just standing there with a bright smile on his face as if everything was alright whereas he felt like shit. Both men kept sorting the dishes and just for a moment it felt like they were back at work at the meat factory again. But this wasn't the plant, and this wasn't their job any more. They had a new job, and it pissed him off how Connor seemed to forget about that.

"I earned us pizza. I did all yer shifts, means I did twice as many shifts and worked my ass off fer that" the older twin went on and Murphy let out an angry snort.

"Fuck yer pizza, how about yer start working on a plan how ta get us fuckin outta here?" he growled and Connor eyed him with a frown.

"Fuck's wrong with ye, I didn't get ta see ya fer a week and ye greet me with that fucking attitude? Thanks Murph, thanks very fucking much" he said and started to brood.

Murphy looked at his twin and let out a sigh, then he concentrated on the filthy plates again.

"I killed Mendez" he muttered after a while and his brother stopped working to stare at him.

"What?"

The younger MacManus nodded and looked at one of the guards.

"Aye. Martin helped me. Got me outta my cell and inside his. We made it look like a suicide, then he locked me in me cell again like nothin happened."

Connor stared at his twin with wide eyes.

"Murph, are ye fuckin mental?" he hissed and hit his twin's shoulder.

"He just fuckin ran inta you, ye retard! If ye keep going like tha they'll put ye in this fucking cell ferever! We didn't plan this through, how could ye do this without me and think..."

"Did yer know that he raped five teenagers and fuckin slit the throats af two of them? He's part of that fucking Castillo gang, Martin and the others think they're up ta something big, they want them gone. 's not exactly easy when there's no death penalty anymore."

Connor pressed his lips together and didn't know what to say to that. He was too shocked, too angry, too scared.
Because he remembered Castillo's silent threat, and now Murphy seemed to make everything worse and even more dangerous and likely.

"So while you were busy earning us fucking treats and pizza I continued Da's work like everyone expects us ta do in here. And yer better off doing te fucking same Connor."

The older twin let out an angry snort and threw the plates on the conveyor, and that so hard that they nearly broke.

"Yer acting like a fucking child, Murph. If ye keep doing tha we'll never get outta here, ye dumbass. I thought we're a fucking team."

"No, if you keep going on like this we'll never get outta here. I mean look at ye! Trading fuckin cigarettes with those scumbags, kissing the guards asses ta get pizza, 's almost like ye belong in here!"

"I've been working my ass off with Eunice and Smecker ta come up with a plan while ye were sitting on yer ass just cos they locked ye up in this fucking cell.
And that happened just because yer acting like a fucking teenager because someone stepped on yer toes once! So who's the one putting fucking stones in our way?"

They were both hissing at each other and only minutes apart from a fight, and no matter how much they tried to keep it low, the other prisoners and guards were already getting interested in them, which was why the twins let go with an annoyed growl. Connor and Murphy kept working for a very long while without saying a single word. This way not just the others lost interest in them, the twins also got the opportunity to cool off and calm down after their fight.

"Are ye really working on a plan with Eunice and Smecker?" Murphy muttered once he had made sure that no one was listening any longer.

Connor nodded but wouldn't look at his twin.

"Aye. Should it work out, then we'll be outta here by June."

Murphy turned his head to look at his brother. Now this sounded more like Connor.
This was his twin, making plans instead of getting used to being in here.
The younger MacManus nodded and grabbed another plate.

"Good" he murmured and Connor nodded as well.

"Aye."

Silence. Murphy eyed the guards and prisoners, then he noticed another member of Castillo's gang.
He remembered everything the guard had told him about their plans, their crimes, their ideology.
The dark-haired MacManus leaned in to be closer to his brother.

"Gives us enough time ta take Castillo and his asskissers out" he muttered.

Connor looked at his brother but wouldn't say anything. Murphy stared him right in the eyes and gave him that look.

"We gotta take those prison scumbags out. Every last motherfucker that's got anything ta do with that asshole. Ye know we gotta.
We gotta kill those prisoners before they can harm anyone else, Connor."

"Pantry's back here" Tomas said as they made their way back inside the cafeteria to get the food.

Even now Connor wouldn't put his gun down, despite all the looks Daryl was giving him.
He was just waiting for Rick to give him a sign, and he just knew that sooner or later he was going to get it.
He knew that he needed to take out those prisoners no matter what.

"You never tried to break out of here?" T-Dog asked as they entered the dining hall.

"Yeah we tried to take the doors off. But if you make one peep in here, then those freaks'll be lined up outside the door growling, trying to get in" Oscar, the quiet African American explained to the group who slowed down and took another look at the cafeteria. Connor had his eyes glued on Tomas who left the room to get to the kitchen. When the prisoner was no where in sight the Irishman put his gun away and sighed.

"Windows got bars on there that he-man couldn't get through" Oscar went on.

"You won't find me complaining. Doing 15. My left leg can barely fit on one of those bunks" the largest member of their group threw in and shrugged.

Connor heard Daryl snort and turned his head to look at his friend. He couldn't fight a smirk either.

"Yeah, they don't call him Big Tiny for nothing" Oscar said and looked at Rick, who seemed to follow the conversation but didn't seem too interested.

"You done jerking each other off? Sick of waiting back here" they heard Tomas ask and turned around.

The man was standing by the entrance to the kitchen and looked at them in a way that made Connor cringe all over again. The more time they spent with Tomas and his attitude, the more he hated the prisoner. Once again he could feel his fingers itching, desperate to grab his gun and just pull the trigger. He hated that he had to keep to the group's rules now just so they wouldn't throw him out. The Irishman placed a hand on his gun just to feel its cool weight, contemplating the idea for a second. Didn't he want to leave the group anyway? He had told Daryl that he just wanted to stay until he had made sure that everyone was safe and that there were no more real threats for them. And now they had found the prison. He had thought about it over and over again for the past two nights. He had kept telling himself that as soon as they were done cleaning out the prison he'd be gone.

Simply because there were so many reasons. The fact that his own immunity was scaring him, that the group had changed so much over the past couple of months, that they didn't seem to want him with them anyway, that he hated to follow anyone's rules that didn't go with his own personal beliefs and values. This whole situation was a perfect example. His own rules and values told him to shoot Tomas right here and now. No second chances, no questions, no doubt. But the rules were different. Because Rick was their leader now, Rick made the big decisions. For just a second Connor was really about to draw his gun and shoot the prisoner. Simply because he wanted to get kicked out, wanted to follow his own rules again.

He turned his head to look at Daryl who was making his way inside the kitchen. Just looking at his friend made him hesitate again. In the end he knew he had to follow the rules, simply because he didn't want to leave Daryl just yet. Because his friend wanted to stay here. But at the same time this face made him furious all over again. This face and Tomas' attitude. And just for a moment this wasn't about this prison and those prisoners and Daryl, it was about Juan Castillo who had been so much like the man who was standing in front of him now, and it was about everything Castillo had done to Murphy. Connor clenched his finger and nearly pulled the trigger because of that incredible hatred for Castillo, for Tomas, for every prisoner and everything they had done. But Daryl kept staring at him and shook his head, and somehow that reversed the spell.

This fight ended a long time ago. This isn't about Murph anymore. It's about Daryl and this group. He likes it here Connor tried to remind himself.

It was hard to calm down, but he forced himself to do it. The Irishman sighed and relaxed his hand, then he followed the rest of the group inside the kitchen as well. The members of the Atlanta group looked at the supplies with wide eyes. The whole storage room was filled with shelves upon shelves of boxes, canisters, bottles and bags of food as well as countless canned products. "Fuck me" Connor gasped and wanted to enter the room, but Tomas tried to block his way. The Irishman turned his head and gave the prisoner a death glare, but before any of them could speak Daryl entered the room as well and took a look around.

"This is what you call a little bit of food?" he asked and gave Tomas an annoyed frown.

The other man looked at him and Connor used the opportunity to walk past the man.

"Goes fast" Tomas defended his previous lie and Daryl snorted.

"Mm-hmm" he murmured and looked at Connor, who was checking out the shelves on the other side.

The Irishman looked back at him and raised an eyebrow. Daryl did the same and they both shook their heads with a snort.

"You can have a bag of corn, some tuna fish..." Tomas said and Rick stepped forward.

"We said half. That's the deal. What's in there?"

Neither Connor nor Daryl paid attention to what Rick and T-Dog were discussing with the prisoners. They were too caught up with checking out the supplies. They didn't even know anymore when they had last come across that much food. Especially Connor and Daryl had been starving sometimes, so they welcomed the presence of supplies even more. The hunter was searching one of the top shelves when a long package fell in his hands. He took a look at it and chuckled. "Hey, leprechaun" he said and Connor, who was searching the other side of the room, turned around and looked at his friend questioningly. Daryl flashed him the package with a grin and the Irishman widened his eyes. "Fuck me!" he exclaimed and approached his friend to grab it. The hunter wouldn't give it to him right away, he kept it out of Connor's reach for a little bit longer just to tease him.

"Give it t'me ye fuckin bastard!" his friend complained and Daryl snickered.

" Fucking chimney" he murmured and gave the Irishman the pack of cigarettes he had found.

Tomas was busy laughing at Rick when he saw them.

"Hey, were did you get those, asshole? Those are mine!" he said and stepped forward, but Daryl placed himself between the two of them and glared at the prisoner.

"We take half, remember?"

Connor opened one of the packs with an excited grin and lit a cigarette right away.

"Aye and by half we mean I get te whole fuckin package."

He exhaled loudly and groaned, obviously enjoying his smoke way too much.

"Damn this feels good!"

Tomas turned around to look at his fellow inmates and the rest of the Atlanta group, seemingly pissed off by now. He wouldn't say anything anymore, he just glared at Connor instead. The Irishman looked at the smoking cigarette in his hand with a happy grin, then looked up to face Tomas. Daryl had backed off by now and started getting things out of the shelves so T-Dog could carry them to their cell block, and Connor used this chance to get closer to the prisoner with a mischievous smirk on his face. "But hey, now that I think about it.." he said and took a long drag on his cigarette. Daryl turned around to see what was going on. He frowned when he saw how close Connor was to Tomas. The Irishman blew some smoke right in Tomas face.

"It's not like we don't share, aye?" he said and started chuckling when the prisoner blinked and coughed because of the cloud of smoke that was surrounding him. Without a warning he darted forward and shoved Connor against the shelves behind him, yelling and insulting him all the way through. He started kicking and punching the Irishman who was still laughing and fought back just as hard. Daryl and Rick were on Tomas in a matter of seconds and pulled him back. Connor was still laughing because it had been so easy to provoke the criminal, but when Daryl gave him a death glare he finally stopped. The Irishman shook his head and turned around to get some supplies as well. "Just trying t'make new friends" he murmured but couldn't fight the smug smile that broke through.

"Food's here!" T-Dog announced when Carl opened the door for them.

Everyone was carrying bags and boxes of food they had been given. Rick's son watched them enter the hall with a big grin on his face.

"What you got?"

"Canned beef, canned corn, canned cans" T-Dog answered and headed for one of the many empty cells to store their supplies.

Connor was right behind him and nudged Carl on his way in.

"Loads af food fer yer Ma, yer brother, you, everyone" he murmured with a cigarette in his mouth and followed T-Dog to get rid of his boxes as well.

"There's a lot more where this came from" Rick said and smiled at his son as well.

Connor was busy piling up his boxes in the cell when Daryl entered the room with two bags of corn.
The Irishman grinned at him and put the box he was holding down so he could grab his cigarette and talk.

"Jesus fucking Christ. Just look at that" he said and pointed at all the boxes and bags.

"A sight fer sore eyes. Means we don't have ta eat any of yer squirrel shit any longer" he said and nudged his friend, but Daryl wasn't returning the smile at all.

He didn't seem cheery or happy, he was just glaring at him in a way that made the Irishman snort.

"Oh come on, you and yer bitchface all te time. Get that stick outta yer ass and brighten up. This shit's a good sign!"

Daryl put the bags down and snorted.

"Yeah, and the fact that yah nearly screwed it up for all of us don't mean nothing."

Connor frowned angrily.

"I didn't screw up shit, te fuck are ye talking about?"

Daryl growled and came closer so he could shove him.

"I'm talkin about you acting like a fuckin prick on steroids for the past hour, always fucking shit up with this macho, picking up fights and asking for a bullet between your eyes!"

Connor shoved him back.

"Like ye ain't picking up any fights! Who's the one always going macho on me?"

"What's that got to do with it? At least I ain't trying t'get anyone killed!"

The Irishman frowned even more.

"And I fucking am?"

"Of course you are! Rick and me we're trying t'get things under control with these guys, get them away from us and get things in return, and all you've done is fuck shit up with this asshole!" Daryl spat and shoved his friend once more.

"Fuck you! I was just doing it t'protect our group, to make it very clear that they don't stand a chance against us, and that they don't ever dare to think that they can fuck with us!"

Daryl snorted and shook his head.

"This ain't about this group. You're just making shit up here. This is about the fact that they're prisoners, that they're some criminals, and yah just needed t'see their uniforms and yer whole Saints bullshit kicked in. You don't want t'protect this group. This is all about you. You're just provoking them so you get a chance t'go psycho on 'em and kill 'em."

Connor snorted as well and turned around to sort the supplies again.

"Don't talk bullshit."

"Yer the one doing and talking bullshit here!" Daryl yelled and kicked his friend's behind.

Connor turned around again and shoved him hard, so the hunter was thrown against the wall.

"Fuck you! Because it ain't fair!"

Daryl frowned.

"What is?"

"That this asshole is still alive in this world, acting like he's the boss and deserves any of that shit, the prison, all the food.
It ain't fair that scumbags like him get t'breathe whereas my brother had t'die bloody!"

Both men glared at each other for a while. Connor sighed and shook his head.

"Fuckin hell, man" he murmured and turned around again. Daryl folded his arms and sighed..

"The world ain't ever fair. Never has been. Never will be. Get over it."

"Yeah, what do ye know. You grew up with a scumbag family, no wonder you don't give a shit."

"Of course I give a shit! I want this group t'be safe as well! Do you think I don't wanna put an arrow in this asshole's head?"

Connor turned around again to look at his friend.

"Then why don't we just do it? You and me. You still got my gun. We could go out there and put a bullet t'his head."

Daryl snorted and folded his arms.

"What are yah, stupid? I ain't doing that. You know the rules. Besides, how many times do I have t'tell yah. I ain't yer brother. And you ain't turning me into him."

Connor shook his head and started sorting boxes again.

"Screw ye, yer such a fucking coward."

Daryl just watched his friend for a while. It wasn't like this sort of talk hadn't happened before. It had just been a while since they had last talked about something like this. Connor's brother, his past, everything that pissed him off. It almost felt like the prison brought out the worst of the Irishman again, because it reminded him of everything, reminded him of his past and the loss of his brother. For months Connor had been fine with him, because they had been far too busy surviving on their own. And ever since they had returned to their group they were also getting back to their old habbits, all the things they had been through on the farm.

"It's been months, man" Daryl muttered and Connor ignored him.

"He died a year ago. Yah need to let go."

"Fuck ye" Connor growled and Daryl sighed. He headed for the door and then stopped to look at his friend again, who was still sorting boxes.

"No matter what you do, he ain't coming back. Killing them ain't gonna make it right" he said quietly and saw how Connor stopped, but the Irishman wouldn't say anything.
Daryl chewed on his lower lip and waited for a bit, but when no answer would come he turned around and left the cell.

They all gathered around a table in the dining hall of cell block C so they could hand out weapons.

All sorts of pipes, knives, crowbars and baseball bats were lined up on the table, and each prisoner took a weapon except for Tomas.

"Why do I need this when I got this?" he asked and showed them his gun with a proud grin.

"You don't fire guns, not unless your back's up against a wall. Noise attracts them" Daryl said and glared at the prisoner.

Tomas raised an eyebrow and pointed at the Connor's Berettas.

"Then why are you caring guns?"

"We all do. You never know. We'll go in two by two. Daryl will run point with Connor, I'll bring up the rear with T" Rick said and gave Andrew, the slim prisoner, who was holding on to his axe with a smile on his face, a slight nod. He nodded and seemed so fond of his weapon that it made the Irishman suspicious again.

"Stay tight, hold formation. No matter how close the walkers get, anyone breaks ranks, we could all go down. Anyone runs off, they could get mistaken for a walker, end up with an axe to the head" Rick explained and Daryl stepped on Connor's foot.

"Listen up" he murmured and his friend kicked back.

"Shut up."

"And that's where you aim" Rick went on and pointed at his head.

"These things only go down with a head shot. Just like anything" Connor said and looked at Tomas while doing so. The prisoner snorted and glared back.

"Ain't gotta tell us how to take out a man."

The Irishman narrowed his eyes.

"Why, know from experience?"

Tomas gave him an evil smirk.

"Sure do."

Everyone fell quiet and looked at Tomas, and especially Connor would give him a death glare again. So Tomas really was a murderer. His fate was sealed.
Rules there or not. T-Dog broke the awkward silence then.

"They ain't men. They're something else."

"Just remember to go for the brain" Rick reminded them and started walking.

Daryl nudged Connor so they could get up front. Tomas still had both his eyes fixed on the Irishman, then he finally grabbed one of the weapons as well and followed them to the dark corridor. Connor was well aware of the fact that the prisoner was right behind him, with a large knife in his hand.

"You don't have t'tell me. Oh I will go for the brain."