setting: episode 11 "I Ain't A Judas"

Damnation

Chapter 42 - Pieces

Daryl had dragged him half way out of the hall when Connor finally managed to get back on his feet and freed himself.
He shrugged his friend's hands off with an annoyed grunt and glared at him.

"Let go of me!" he demanded and then tried to get back to Merle, but Daryl placed himself in front of him and shoved the Irishman back.

"No I won't! Get your hands off him!"

"I'm gonna rip his head off! Even if it's the last thing 'm gonna do, I'm gonna kill him fer that!" Connor yelled and tried to get past his friend, but Daryl wouldn't let him through.

The blonde went through yet another fit of rage when he saw the destroyed picture in his hands, and when he saw the looks all the others were giving him and especially the grin on Merle's face he had enough. He fought Daryl's hands off and pointed at his brother.

"This isn't over yet" he growled and then turned his back on the group to storm back inside the cell block, picture still in his hand.

It was quiet for a moment, then they heard Merle chuckle, which made the whole group look at him. The older Dixon was busy putting the knife in his metal stump and wouldn't stop grinning. His mouth and nose was bloody, but that didn't seem to bother him.

"Talking 'bout snakes in the nest. You're better off locking that nutter in a cell, not me. Before he hurts som..."

"What the hell was this about?" Daryl yelled at him and Merle put his remaining hand up in the air.

"Hey, buddy, relax! I was just tryin t'make friends with your boyfriend, alright? No need to raise hell like that, brother."

The younger Dixon pressed his lips together and stared his brother down for just a bit longer, then he turned around to see where Connor was.
Glenn stepped closer to Rick but wouldn't stop glaring at Merle in the mean time.

"Rick, I think this is the moment where we should put him in the other cell block. Maggie's right" he said and Merle looked at him.

"Why don'tcha just say it in my face, Chinaman? Spit it out! Hey look, we..."

"Shut up! All of yah!" Daryl interrupted them and looked at Rick and Glenn.

"I can handle it, alright? Merle's my brother, Connor's my friend, and they ain't your problem! I'll talk to the leprechaun and he ain't going nowhere!" he said and pointed at his brother, who was giving the other two men a mischievous grin, obviously liking that Daryl was siding with him again.

"You really think Connor's gonna listen to you even when he's a little.."

"Yeah, right. Boy's coocoo, that one. He tried to kill me!" Merle joined in and spit some blood on the ground.

"Shut up, bro!" Daryl demanded and the older Dixon approached him with his clenched fist.

"Hey, don't be talking to me like that!"

"I said shut up! I'm trying to get your stupid ass out of this!"

Merle kept yelling at him, but the younger Dixon did not care. Back in the old days he had feared his brother's outbursts like this one, especially whenever he had dared talk to him like that. But he wasn't like that anymore. Merle had always annoyed the crap out of him with his stupidity and ability to fuck everything up, and this time he wouldn't just take it anymore. Daryl ignored Merle and approached Glenn and Rick instead because this was way more important.

"What are yah talking about, a little what?"

Rick put both his hands on his hip and sighed.

"We heard you last night and.."

Glenn snorted.

"Yeah, understatement. He woke Judith up, and then woke everyone up with his fit. And Maggie saw him talk to thin air yesterday.
All I'm saying is, maybe Merle isn't the only problem you brought back from Woodbury."

Daryl snorted and looked at Rick.

"You can talk" he growled and then turned his head to glare at Glenn.

"He saved your ass, he went back for you, your girlfriend, me.."

"He's been bit!" the Korean interrupted the hunter and Daryl snapped again.

"So what?! 's not the first time that happened! He's fine!"

"Look, Daryl, all we're saying is.."Rick tried to reason with the younger Dixon, but the hunter didn't want to hear it.

He waved them off with an annoyed growl and turned around to head back inside the cell block.

" Yeah, stick it up your ass. I don't wanna hear it. Mind your own business with all y'all finger pointing" he muttered and left.

Everything was so wrong. So so wrong. It needed to be clean. Needed to be clean.

Connor was sitting on his bed, staring at the abused picture in his hands. Murphy's face was gone. Cut. Destroyed. Covered with blood.
He needed to get it off. He kept rubbing and rubbing, using his thumbs, his palm, his shirt, but it just made everything worse. The picture was ruined.

"No no no no no" he muttered and tried to piece it back together, but his fingers weren't made for that sort of delicate work.

It was useless. Irreparable. The Irishman cursed as loud as he could and threw the picture away, then rubbed his face and tried not to lose it. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to remember it. Every last detail of Murphy's face. It shouldn't be so hard, should it? He had been with him for 36 years. 36 years of seeing that face -every- day. So he just had to remember everything. His smile. His eyes. The shape of his mouth, his hair and...fuck. He couldn't remember the details. Why was it so hard to remember his face?! He knew Murphy's hair had been black, that his eyes had been blue, but fuck, so many people had black hair and blue eyes. What had made Murphy "Murphy"?

He cursed once more and grabbed the picture again to help his memory, but of course. The face was gone. And he couldn't remember. Murphy was gone. His voice was gone. His body was gone. His guns were gone. His knife was gone. His clothes were gone. His rosary was gone. And now his face was gone. The picture. And he had nothing left of his twin brother. Just like that. The worst part was the he still wasn't ready yet. He couldn't hold the tears back anymore. It had been a while since he'd last allowed himself to cry. But this was it. The pain was back. The loss was still there. Murphy was really dead. Another violent sob escaped his mouth, then he had enough and got angry. No. He wouldn't have any of that crying nonsense anymore. But somehow the tears still kept coming as he stared at the destroyed picture.

"What the hell did I tell you about..."

Daryl stopped talking when he entered their cell. He could see Connor sitting there on his bed, staring at a piece of paper in his hands. His eyes were red and a bit watery, like he had just been crying a second ago. When the Irishman noticed him he startled and sniffed awkwardly. He rubbed his eye and tried to hide the paper, but Daryl had already seen it anyway. The hunter just stood there and stared at his friend for a while.

"I thought you buried that" he muttered and Connor sniffed once more.

"Yeah, looks like I fucking didn't" he growled and then looked up to face Daryl.

"'m gonna kill him fer that. I swear 'm gonna fuckin kill him."

Dary just stared at his friend and then came closer with an outstretched hand. Connor didn't want to give it to him at first, but then he gave in. He handed the hunter the destroyed picture with a frustrated gasp and then got up to start walking up and down their cell. The hunter took a closer look at the damage in the meantime. Fucking Merle. No wonder Connor had lost it like that. The picture was pretty much done, Murphy's face was completely destroyed. The damage was striking, but just for a second he had to look at the part that was still intact.

Although his friend was standing right in front of him he just looked at him on the photograph, and once again he could see the difference between the Connor as he was now and the Connor as he had been back then, prior all this bullshit, prior the apocalypse. With that Murphy guy that he hated so much. Connor was grinning in the picture, eyes nothing but slits and wrinkles all around them. Hair short and spiky, sleeves of his sweater rolled up, showing the tattoos. No bites. No pain in his eyes. No invisible dark cloud above his head all the time. This blonde guy didn't look tired, didn't look worn out, didn't look hardened and moody and upset. This one was happiness in persona. He knew that it was kind of pathetic and whiny, but part of Daryl wished that he had known this Connor instead of the one who was standing right in front of him now.

He watched his friend and how he lit up another smoke, eyes teary and red, lips nothing but a hard and thin pale line. Even after so many months of being together the sad look on the Irishman's face still pissed Daryl off, sometimes so much that he wanted to beat it out of it. He thought that it was incredibly rude and unfair of Connor to never really let him see that happy side of him, never let him get to know it. He didn't want his friend to know and he would never tell him that so directly, but part of him was actually glad that it was Murphy's part of the photograph which had been destroyed. Because the guy deserved it. Because Daryl hated him. Because Murphy was the one who had destroyed his friend like that, not Merle. Because this dead guy's shadow was so big that even now Connor could hardly see HIM, see Daryl Dixon as a person and not as a dead man walking.

"You know he just did that t'tease yah. You ain't gonna kill 'im. He's my brother" was all Daryl could say and gave his friend the picture back.

"Yer fucking brother destroyed the last thing I had of Murphy. Because you made me bury his shit, and because they took fucking everything from me back at Woodbury. And now I can't remember anything about my own brother and it's his fault! Of course 'm gonna kill him fer that."

""It's just a fucking picture!" Daryl yelled and Connor had enough as well.

"It's the last fucking picture I had of him!"

The hunter shoved his friend with an angry growl.

"So what? If yah ask me, I wouldn't have done it any differently! It's about time that thing's gone! You promised you'd bury it!
This is all your fault, not Merle's! If you'd buried it days ago then we wouldn't be having this fucking problem now!"

Connor shook his head and took another drag on his cigarette.

"Just fuck off."

Daryl clenched his fists and pressed his lips together. He was incredibly frustrated and mad at Merle for causing this whole thing in the first place, but he was actually even madder at Connor because his friend was so stubborn and kept lying to him these days. Especially about his brother. He hated how the Irishman couldn't see that all his mourning and keeping things needed to stop.

"Listen, I get that what Merle's done ain't right. But it's the right thing here. You need to stop that shit. You need to let go and bury it."

Connor just snorted.

"You're freaking people out. There's a fucking war coming, and we need yah."

Once again the Irishman wouldn't say anything as he tried to repair the damage on his picture.

"I need you" the hunter then went on and finally got a reaction from the blonde. Connor stopped rubbing on the picture and looked up, smoking cigarette in his mouth.

"So you better get your shit together" Daryl demanded and then turned around to leave his friend to brood.

When Daryl reached the hall Herschel was just done talking to his brother, so he waited until the old man was gone.
Merle was sitting on his bed again, still working on his new weapon. When he noticed his younger half he smirked.

"Coming to tend my wounds, Darylena? Make me a cup of tea with honey, warm blanket..maybe rub my feet?"

Daryl approached his brother and and just stared at him.

"What the fuck was that about?" he asked.

Merle looked at his sibling and shrugged.

"Don't know what'cha talking 'bout."

"I'm talking about the picture."

The older Dixon grinned and then started working on his weapon again.

"That, my dear baby brother, is how you teach some faggy leprechaun a lesson."

The younger Dixon frowned.

"What?"

"I told that mick to stay away from you. You can thank me later."

The hunter snorted and folded his arms.

"We back to this shit? I ain't seven anymore. Who I hang out with ain't none of your concern."

Merle suddenly started laughing and looked at his brother.

"Hang out? This is what yah call hanging out? You ain't foolin no one, Darylena" he said and spit on the ground.

He then started polishing his knife.

"Well, that stops now. All the touching and staring and god knows what kinda disgusting bullshit yah two've been doing when I wasn't there to watch over your ass. I mean was that him? On your back? Those faggy wings? He turning you into some sweet butterfly now? Ain't no way 'm letting some mick destroy all the work I've put in you, all them years I spent trying to make a man of you."

Daryl gritted his teeth and growled.

"It ain't like that. Besides, even if it were, it ain't your cake. You don't know shit about him man, you weren't there!"

Merle turned his head and looked at him once more.

"Oh yeah, of course I know what's been going on. That leprechaun thinks you're his bro, huh? He lost his brother, you yours, and you two found each other like Bonny and Clyde. I bet the two of yah cried in each other's shoulder, and you ungrateful little bastard told him all sortsa things about your old bro Merle. What didcha say back at the river? Oh right. He's been a better brother to you than me, right? That what your friend Rick and his gang keep telling you?"

Daryl just stared at him.

"Shut up."

"You don't need him, baby brother. Ain't nobody going to care about you except me" Merle muttered and the younger Dixon swallowed.

It was exactly like he had pictured it back in the days when he had fallen off the horse.

"Just keep your hands off him."

Merle snorted.

"Don't need to. He'll be keeping his hands off you now if he's smart. Besides...hey! Don't be turning your back on me when I'm talking to you!" Merle suddenly yelled and got up, but once again his younger half did not stop, did not listen to him, did not fear him, no matter how many times the older Dixon yelled his name. Daryl just kept walking until he was back inside the cell block, back with the people he now considered his real family. He knew that Carol was right, and he knew that he needed to do something about the whole crap that was going on because of him and his stupid brother. When the hunter couldn't find his friend in their cell he approached Rick and Herschel, who were discussing something.

"Hey, you seen Connor somewhere?" he asked but neither of them had an answer, which made Daryl even more suspicious.

Damn, in what kind of trouble had the stupid Irishman managed to get himself into now?
He turned his head when he heard the creaking of the door, only to see that it was Beth.
He approached Herschel's daughter and rubbed his chin with a worried look on his face.

"Hey, Beth. Have you been outside with your sister?"

The girl nodded with a confused frown.

"Yes, I just brought her a water bottle. Why?"

"Have you seen Connor out there?"

The blonde nodded.

"He just passed me on my way back in. I think he wanted to take over watch."