And hello again! I decided to upload two chapters today because I wrote them in one go. Hope you don't mind! =)

setting: episode 12 "Clear"

Damnation

Chapter 48 - Drug

After maybe 20 minutes of just lying around and reading and writing on his newspaper Connor got distracted by footsteps. The Irishman lay the paper on his naked belly and listened up, trying to make out who was entering the block. Daryl had taught him a lot about that whole tracking and listening thing during the winter. He could now distinguish people by simply listening to the way the walked. He knew it wasn't Daryl or Rick or any of the women, and after listening for several minutes he came to the conclusion that it was Merle. Daryl's brother. He let out an annoyed sigh and got up, trying to have a look downstairs. It sounded like no one else was inside the cell block. Just like Daryl had told him. So maybe the others really were outside, which meant that he was all alone with that redneck asshole. Connor grabbed one of the bars of the cell door with his healthy hand and just stared down and listened, and soon he could hear the ripping and tearing of several things that sounded like clothes or bed sheets. The Irishman frowned and came to the conclusion that Merle didn't really know he was in here as well, so he decided to talk.

"Te fuck are are doing down there?" he asked, his voice echoing through the halls.

The ripping stopped and then there were footsteps until Merle Dixon finally came into view.
He was wearing a dirty undershirt and held a pillow in his hands, and when he saw that Connor was locked in his cell the redneck started grinning and laughing.

"Well look at that, blondie. What'd they do t'you? Did Officer friendly look you up in here cos of your coocoo?"

Connor narrowed his eyes at the man below.

"Fuck you. Where's yer brother? He's te little fuck who locked me in here."

Merle started laughing even more and pointed at the Irishman with his knife.

"Well looks like that little bug finally listened to his good ol' big bro. Told him he'd better get away from your faggy green ass. Looks like he followed my advice, didn't he" the older of the two muttered and then disappeared inside a cell again. There was more rattling and ripping and Connor just listened, because he couldn't do anything about it anyway.

"What's all that ripping shit fer?" he asked because he still couldn't see what Merle was doing, but he could hear him chuckle.

"Jesus, people actually understand whatcha talkin 'bout? You got a couple'a fish sticks between your teeth?"

Connor gritted his teeth and shook his head as he let go of the bars to get back to his bed.

"Oh fuck you" he just muttered and decided to ignore Merle, because he had promised Daryl to keep it down.

The ripping would go on for several minutes until he could hear the older Dixon talk again.

"Hey mick, when you pussies found and scooped out that prison, you found any pills? Shrooms? Sweet lil powder bags?"

Connor raised an eyebrow and snorted.

"Why, did yer drug whore run off? Fuck you, even if we did find any of that stuff, ain't gonna tell ye shit."

"Just lookin for a little vacation, blondie. No need t'get your panties in a bunch."

The ripping resumed and Connor just listened for a while. He had always known that Daryl's brother had been a real scumbag. Drugs. Arrests. Beatings. Racism. He remembered how shocked he'd been when he had first seen the drug bag, which Daryl had always carried around with him, even on that day when they had first met. He remembered how much hatred he had felt for this sort of thing, for this man, and after hearing all the stories about Daryl's childhood and family he was not surprised that he was even more disgusted by the whole thing.

He honestly could not understand how his friend had been able to put up with this bullshit. He had seen and felt how violent and hotheaded Daryl really could be, so how he had never tried to beat the shit out of his brother's drug-crazed mind was beyond him. Connor felt even more sorry for the hunter, because now he could hear and see it first hand. He was so angry that he couldn't get out of his cell right now, because just for the whole trying and searching for drugs thing Merle deserved a punch in his face and a kick in his balls. That was the least thing he could do for the younger Dixon, considering how he couldn't follow his do-drugs-and-you're-dead policy here.

"And ye think you can find that shit in mattresses. First thing those dirty fucks did when all hell broke loose was take their drugs with 'em.
And 'm pretty sure they stripped te place clean more than once back in the old days."

He heard Merle snort downstairs.

"Best dope I ever had was in a matress. Not like you'd know anything 'bout the whole prison business.
There's loads a places you can hide stuff when they lock your ass in a shithole like that."

"How 'bout ye try the inside of the bedframes. They're hollow. Good ta hide forks 'n knives in 'em" Connor answered and heard how Merle stopped ripping stuff and got back on his feet.

"Hoho, blondie! You're the smart one, aren'tcha."

"Ye can also check out the laundry room, te old washing machines. I can help you with that. All ye gotta do is let me out" the Irishman went on, but of course, Merle wasn't that stupid.

Once again there was chuckling, and then he could hear the screeching of metal across the concrete floor.

"Nice try, leprechaun. But I think yah just trying t'get me to let your ass outta there. Ain't no way. Besides, I don't need no help from anyone" the older Dixon grunted as he was obviously trying to move a bed. Connor listened to the whole thing a little while longer and threw his newspaper away. Right then he noticed Daryl's bag and the map. He remembered his original plan on the whole Woodbury thing, noticed that everyone was gone right now. Including Daryl and Rick.

He serves his purpose, that's fer sure. And he knows that town and that guy better than anyone, doesn't he? He's been with them fer months. He'd be our map, you'd be my watchdog. With ye around he can't pull any bullshit on me, we three make our way in there, kill the Governor, his right hand men, make Andrea take over te city and we all live happily ever after. It sounds simple, it is simple.

The blonde turned his head to look at his cell door again, and after spending a couple of minutes thinking about it he came to the conclusion that maybe this was a good time to start talking.

"Aye. Ye don't need help. Because you don't even gotta go over there."

He heard Merle snort and grunt downstairs, as he was still trying to find some drugs.

"And why's that, huh?"

"Cos I got yer drugs right up here. Daryl kept them fer you. They're in his bag."

There was silence for a while, until Connor could hear footsteps downstairs. Then they were moving up the stairs, until they were echoing down the passage way upstairs. Connor grinned to himself and got up to greet the older Dixon, who turned up in front of his cell a moment later with an angry and yet unsure frown on his face.

"You're bluffing."

Connor gave him an evil smirk and shook his head. He then turned around to head for his friend's bag, and after searching it for a bit he found the plastic bag with all the bottles and blue powder in it. The Irishman presented it to Daryl's brother and put it on the small table on the other side of the bed. He then searched his trouser pocket for his last but one pack of smokes to light one up. He looked at Merle and thought about offering him one, but as soon as he faced the man he felt so much hatred and disgust all over again that he decided not to do it. He lit his cigarette and exhaled after a moment of obviously enjoying the way Merle was staring at his bag.

"Alright. Hand it over, mick, and I talk t'my brother and he'll let you out."

Connor snorted, sending a big cloud of smoke out of his mouth.

"Aye, 'f course. And ye think I'm so stupid ta believe this?"

Merle got angry and grabbed the bars of the cell door. He started shaking and kicking it with an extremely aggressive look on his face, but it wouldn't give in. The older Dixon let go of the door again and gave the Irishman his evil twisted grin again.

"Lockedchah up tight, didn't they? Now you're all alone in here, trapped like a yirdie birdie in a golden cage."

Connor shrugged and blew out some more smoke. Merle then noticed the bandage on his shoulder, since the Irishman had not wasted a single minute on actually putting a shirt on.

"What's the name? Corey?"

Connor put the cigarette back in his mouth and then searched Merle's drug bag for the heavy pain pills his friend had given him two days ago.

"Connor" he mumbled, cigarette dancing around the edges of his mouth. He then threw some of the pills in his mouth since Daryl and Herschel had ordered him to take antibiotics anyway, but he was just doing it to get a rise out of Merle. The older Dixon was obviously furious because he was touching his stuff, and Connor was sure that they were going to get into another fight over this sooner or later, but none of that mattered right now. Merle kept to the rules of playing nice since he wanted his drugs back, and Connor used the opportunity to get a rise out of the man a little while longer.

"Connor, huh. I can see why my brother likes you."

Connor gave the man yet another evil smirk and blew some smoke in his direction.

"Shoulda seen how much he liked me when we were all alone last winter" he retorted and grinned even more when he saw the look on Merle's face.

He didn't know if Daryl had told him about how they had spent some time together for a couple of months with no one else around, and it wasn't like anything like that had happened, but he liked to tease the hell out of the older Dixon with that, because he knew how much he hated his tight friendship with his brother. The man opposite Connor pressed his lips together and gave him a look that could kill, but every once in a while he would look at his drugs, and it was obvious that they were more important than his anger right now.

"Alright, yah stupid mick. You've had your fun, now out with it before I bash your teeth on those bars. The hell do yah want me t'do so I can get my dope back."

Connor wouldn't stop grinning, now that he had Daryl's brother right where he wanted. For just another minute he enjoyed the whole thing, then he took another drag on his cigarette, blew out some smoke and sighed. No more grinning. This was official business now.

"I got a couple a questions fer you first, before we get to business."

"Like what" the redneck growled and folded his muscular arms, careful not to cut himself with his makeshift weapon.

Connor nodded and kept smoking.

"'s it true that ye weren't there when that sick fuck ye call yer father shredded yer brother's whole body with those scars?"

He could almost watch the blood leave Merle's face as he mentioned that topic.

"That ain't none of your concern" the man growled and looked like he was gonna murder Connor for that.

"Just answer te fuckin question."

"Yeah. Now give me the fucking bag. I don't need no open door t'kill yah."

"So if ye could do something ta make it right, ta make up fer how you screwed up there, would ye do it? Fer Daryl?"

Both men stared at each other for a while, and much to the Irishman's surprise there were no death threats, no insults, nothing but an intense stare down and a single "Yes."

"Would ye die fer him?"

"What kinda bullshit is that, man? Just give me the goddamn bag, yah stupid mick! What's this? Oprah? Candid camera?"

"Just answer the fuckin questions or 'm gonna burn yer shit!" Connor yelled at him and Merle grabbed the bars with an angry growl.

"Of course I would! He's my brother! I would die for him just like I would've killed that pansy-assed crack sniffin asshole who did that to him!" Merle yelled back and the Irishman fell quiet. He stared at the man opposite him, because he was quite surprised at what he saw. There was honesty in the redneck's eyes. Honesty, and maybe even a hint of brotherly love. It didn't make the whole drug thing any better, and it certainly wouldn't improve the fact that Merle was still a terrible brother to Daryl. But it certainly made Connor respect him a tiny bit more. The Irishman nodded and then threw his cigarette to the ground.

"Good. Cos I need yer help. Do it right and ye get yer shit. You play, I pay."

Merle snorted and let go of the bars. He then started laughing and shook his head.

"You? Need my help? This really is candid camera, ain't it? Come out, come out, people!" Merle yelled and threw his hands in the air.

He then looked to his left and right as if he was trying to make out any camera teams.

"Aren't yah adorable" he went on and chuckled. Connor just kept looking at him until the redneck calmed down.

"I want to kill the Governor. And yer gonna help me with that."

Merle wouldn't stop chuckling and actually had tears in his eyes by now.
He rubbed his eye with his remaining hand and shook his head.

"You micks really are the jokesters, I gotta give yah that."

Connor narrowed his eyes.

"'m not fucking shitting you. Now stop acting like a fucking girl and listen up, shitface."

Merle eventually stopped laughing, but there was a gentle chuckle every now and then.

"Sorry blondie, I know I told yah that yah got the eyes of a killer, but sweet mercy, never thought yah'd let that get to your head like that.
Bite sure messed with your melon big time."

"Yer religious?" Connor asked and ignored the redneck's talk.

Merle nodded after a while, but the grin wouldn't get away.

"Yeah, yeah. But certainly not such a fana.."

"Ever heard 'bout the mafia killings up North 'n Boston and New York a couple a years ago?"

"Those bible-banging preachers who watched too many action flicks? 'Saints' or any of that crap? Sure heard 'bout 'em. We used t'laugh at those freaks back at the club. Why?"

Connor nodded.

"Well hello."

Merle kept chuckling to himself until he finally seemed to get it.

"Noooo shit! You?"

Connor nodded.

"Aye. Small world, ain't it? So ye get te picture. I got experience."

Merle pointed at the blonde and snapped his fingers multiple times.

"Now I know why your ugly face looked so familiar, yah were all over the news just a couple 'a months before shit went down. Yeah, yeah! Now I get it! I was gonna make fun of Darylena cos yer bro really looked like him, but looks like we forgot all 'bout that when shit hit the van. Dang. Blondie. Maybe yah really ain't such a pussy" Merle muttered to himself as he eyed the Irishman a little closer.

He clicked his tongue and started grinning and chuckling again, and Connor slowly lost his patience.

"So are ye in or not? Else 'm gonna take yer fuckin brother. Don't matter. 'm gonna go there no matter what. We both know that this fucker needs ta be stopped or else this is gonna turn into a bloody massacre."

Merle snorted and shook his head.

"Sorry to disappoint, paddy. But that's suicide. I don't even need yo stupid bag. Yah were pretty much right 'bout the washing machines. But hey, nice try" the redneck answered and was about to walk away, but Connor approached the cell door and called after him.

"Rick ain't the guts nor the wits ta get us through this shit. You'n me both know what that Governor guy's capable off. You certainly even more than me. Sooner or later he's gonna burst through our doors and he's gonna kill us all. Just like you said yesterday. The kids, those women, Rick, me. He's gonna make ye die real slow, and he's gonna kill yer brother as well. No maybe about it."

Merle stopped walking and just listened.

"So ye either keep searching fer your fucking drugs and be that selfish prick who failed ta protect his brother from all these ugly scars on his back fer fucking years, or yer gonna man up fer once in yer fucking worthless life and be a hero. And all ye gotta do is get me inside Woodbury and help me kill the right people. Which also happened ta stab yer back and wanted ta make you kill yer own brother. This ain't about fucking me. And I'm not asking fer yer help ta save my own ass. It might be a suicide mission. And I don't give a shit about that. Cos I'm willing ta die to protect Daryl. Question is: are you?"

He couldn't see what the older Dixon was doing, because Merle wouldn't turn around anymore. He was just standing there, back turned on Connor, who was waiting for an answer. The Irishman was even more surprised when his words didn't seem to have hit a nerve, because right then the redneck started walking again.

"Screw your bag" he just said and made his way down the stairs to leave the cell block.