hello you people! I hope you don't think that these new chapters are too bad because of the lack of Connaryl interaction. Sorry if it's getting boring or something.
I hope not!

setting: episode 16 "Welcome To The Tombs"

Damnation

Chapter 63 - Surprise

If it hadn't been his plan, then Connor would have asked who was so fucking stupid to come up with a plan like this. It shouldn't be any different from his previous job in Ireland, but truth was that it was completely different. Yes, he was also leading dumb things around to get them where he wanted, but these here weren't sheep, they were people. Dead people.

Connor kept making noise. He was yelling at them and banged the stick on the old pan, and although the walkers weren't interested in eating him they were interested in the noise, which was why they would follow him nevertheless.

He was well aware of the many things that could go wrong. They had used the many cars from the parking lot and all the wood panels they had left to build some sort of temporary tunnel, which was leading the undead horde away from the field in front of the prison, and into cell block D. Only one wooden panel needed to give in and the walkers could start spreading out into their prison yard, which was the exact opposite of what they wanted to achieve. Rick, Maggie, Glenn, Andrea and Michonne were keeping watch outside the construction in case walkers escaped, but somehow that didn't make Connor feel any better about it.

Once again he couldn't stop thinking about how stupid his plans were, no matter how genius they were at the same time. He could almost hear Daryl yell at him for using himself as bait, but it was the anger over Daryl's injury that kept him going, just like the fact that he was the only one who could do it. Not only because he had been a shepherd in Ireland and knew how to guide large herds of dumb animals, but also because of his immunity. But he still didn't know how the walkers really acted around him, and he certainly wasn't safe because every once in a while there would be an undead who tried to attack him, but an aggressive shove usually did some magic.

The Irishman was leading the walkers further inside the cell block, and soon away from the cells and into the maze of corridors. For months he had hated those stinking bastards because they were dangerous, disgusting vultures who had bit him and killed Murphy and so many other members of their group, but just for today he couldn't bring himself to hate them. He actually loved them and all the opportunities they brought with them.

So maybe Woodbury really was stronger than them, and maybe the town really had more gunmen, but that didn't mean that their army was larger than that of the prison group. Although most of their team had been sceptical at first they had still agreed with his plan to use the walkers against the enemy. Connor knew that they stood little to no chance in a battle outside. They needed to make sure the prison looked abandoned, so they could lure the Woodbury fighters deeper inside the complex, deeper inside the maze.

He wanted to use his knowledge about them just like their own experience. Just like his own group most of the people from Woodbury were civilians. Military wannabes who had survived the fight against undead dumb people and thought they were invincible now, except that they weren't. He remembered how they had felt when they had first entered the prison, without knowing what was inside and with all the darkness surrounding them. Even he had been scared shitless that first day in here. And this was exactly what he wanted to recreate for Woodbury now. Only three times worse. He wanted this place to go back to day zero, he wanted it to be filled with walkers and surprises - the perfect mouse trap.

And that idea was what kept him going, although it really was scary to be leading all the walkers in here on his own.

The slight fear and nervousness soon turned into frustration and anger, because he had completely forgotten about the obvious: walkers were mindless undead people, with no sense of direction, unity or understanding. Their muscles and joints were rotting just like their brain, which not only made them dangerous, it also made them...

Incredibly fucking slow.

It took him forever to guide the bloodthirsty mob to the large boiler room where he wanted to lock them in, and it took him even longer to actually get them inside without having to lock himself in or without forgetting any of them. Although he hated to be near them and everything was freaking disgusting he soon found himself shoving and kicking the undead inside, trying to ignore each scary moment when one of them would actually try to attack him. After more than one hour he could finally close the door, locking at least 50 walkers in there, who were now waiting to be let out and couldn't wait to bury their teeth in the flesh of the enemy.

Connor let out a loud and frustrated sigh and wiped the sweat off his forehead.
And now he had to do the same shit in their cell block C. Fan-freaking-tastic.

A loud bang on the door startled him, because some of the walkers were now trying to get out again, attracted by the noise he'd just made.

"Shut up!" the Irishman growled and kicked the door.

He then turned around and lit a cigarette as he walked back.

He really hoped that the others were done packing over there, because he could almost feel how time was running out. They had killed the Governor more than 12 hours ago. He was pretty sure that Woodbury had sent out a team by now to go look for him, and maybe they had even discovered his body by now. It would take them another couple of hours until someone took over and led them here. He was absolutely sure of that. And even if the attack wouldn't happen today, he really wanted to be prepared. No matter what. And that as quickly as possible.

Connor walked down the corridor that led back to the main cells, and he made sure that he had not forgotten any walker on his way here. The place needed to be secure for a little while longer, so they could get back in here and let the walkers loose as soon as Woodbury arrived. He didn't want any members of his own group to die, but right now it didn't really look like there were any walkers left.

He startled and lost his cigarette when he walked around the corner and ran right into some one.
He was only seconds away from stabbing the person when he finally noticed that it was Andrea who had followed him.

"Jesus fuckin Christ" Connor muttered and then inspected the cigarette burn on his shirt as he tried to wipe the ash away.

"I need to talk to you" the blonde woman said and Connor started walking again, because he knew what this was about and because he didn't want to waste any time.

"Ye don't say" he muttered and got grumpy because he couldn't smoke anymore.

Andrea followed him and didn't seem to want to leave him be.

"What you're planning is sick. Nothing but a slaughter of innocent people."

Connor snorted and turned around to look at Andrea in disbelief.

"Innocent? They tortured Maggie and Glenn. They shot Axel and Oscar. They watched and cheered when yer boyfriend wanted to let Daryl and Merle kill each other. They killed Merle and almost killed Daryl. There's a torture chamber right in the middle of yer town and they wanted t'kill ye. They're far from innocent, missy. If it weren't fer us then this psycho village would've killed ye, too" he said and started walking again.

Andrea kept following him and shook her head.

"That wasn't them, it was Phillip. And his henchmen. Martinez, Shumpert, Mike, Andy. But not the group that's on their way over here. There's child soldiers with them.
An 14-year old asthmatic, women. I won't let you slaughter them like that."

"Well ye don't have to, cos I won't slaughter them. 'm just after the evil ones. The sickos. Whoever shoots at us despite our warnings will eat a bullet or get eaten by walkers. As simple as that. And by that I mean everyone excluding te kid and women. 'm not stupid, Andrea. This whole thing here's there t'seperate the wheat from the chaff. I know what te fuck 'm doing. End of discussion."

Andrea placed a hand on the Irishman's shoulder, which made him wince and struggle because it had been his injured one. The woman let go because of that, but wouldn't stop talking.

"No. If we do this, use terror and violence instead of negotiation, then we're not any better than Phillip. I mean just look at you all. You treated me like an enemy when I got back here the first time. Rick was willing to hand Michonne over to torture and death just to safe this godforsaken place, and then Daryl literally slaughtered Phillip like an animal. What happened to you people while I was gone that you're so cruel and...barbaric?"

Connor stopped walking again and looked at Andrea through narrowed eyes.

"So what do ye suggest we do? Walk over t'Woodbury? Bring flowers and candy and beg on our knees?"

Andrea let out an annoyed snort.

"No, I'm suggesting that we go over there with Rick, Carl, the baby, and make them see that you're not terrorists. We'll let Maggie and Glenn talk about the abduction that started everything, I can back up your talk, and so does Milton. People trust him, he's been there since the beginning and he's seen Phillip change. We can show Woodbury all the secret places not even I knew about until my last day. We can show them the torture chair, the wrecked army cars, Phillip's sick aquarium with the heads. We can open their eyes and make them see that they've been mislead by a psychopath. We can still do the right thing."

Connor laughed angrily and shook his head.

"Like they're gonna buy shit and accept a peace-offering after yer dear boyfriend hyped them all up? Not t'speak about how we did kill their leader. And now you're here, and ye knew us before all this shit. Doesn't make ye very trust-worthy amongst them all either. And there's no fuckin way we're using te kids as bait. Just a couple of days ago you told me they'd probably start shooting as soon as they saw us. Hey, 'm all fer reasoning, but sometimes ye gotta make them learn the hard way. All the good guy talk'll just make it worse and get people injured or killed. Look what happened t'Dale."

Andrea just looked at him in surprise, hurt written all over her face at the mention of her friend's violent death. Connor knew that he was being mean, but he was way too sick of all the good guy talk, and he was way too angry because Daryl had been hurt because of all the people around him trying to solve the issue by simple talking.

"There is no good and bad anymore, Andrea. And there certainly is no more innocent and guilty. You do fucked up evil shit and you die. 's why Rick killed Shane, 's why Daryl and I killed cannibals and 's why Daryl killed the Governor. But there's also no innocence anymore. Yer t'good fer this world and ye can't bring yerself t'do certain questionable shit and y'die. 's why your sweet sister died, 's why Sophia died,'s why Dale died, 's why Merle's last act of bravery killed him, 's why my brother died so fucking early. People that are as white as a fucking sheet because of their goodness die. I admire yer strong morality and humanity, but shit like that will destroy you and kill you sooner or later. No more black and white. Only grey survives in the end" the Irishman said and started walking once more, but even after that long speech Andrea still wouldn't let go.

"I don't want anyone to die, just listen to me, we can make this work!"

"I'm not gonna kill everyone, just the ones who deserve it" Connor muttered and walked around the corner, only to let out a relieved sigh when they reached the main cell block. He thanked god that he wasn't to far from escaping her nagging now.

"And who decides who deserves to die and who doesn't, you?"

"Aye" he answered, and the topic was done for him.

Andrea soon could keep up anymore, and Connor walked even faster to get out, because he wanted everything to be done, and because he wanted to make sure that everyone was safe.

He found the rest of the group still inside cell block C which pissed him off a bit. He wanted to fill this place with walkers, too, and part of him just wanted them gone already. When he saw Rick with Hershel and Judith he walked over to them, but not without telling Beth, Carol and Maggie to get a move on first. The three women gave him an annoyed look but still carried the boxes a little faster, and before Connor got to complain even more he was already standing in front of Rick and Hershel.

"Did ye get more flash bangs and grenades?" he asked which made the former policeman turn around and look at him.

Rick was carrying his baby and watched the rest of the group for a moment, and then he finally nodded.

"Yeah. They're on the bridge and inside the old office tables in the yard."

Connor nodded.

"Aye, good" he muttered and then looked at Hershel.

"What about the speaker system, intercom and tape recorder?"

"Glenn's still working on it. Almost done."

Connor grunted when Carl suddenly walked right into him on purpose, shoved him out of the way and kept going with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Hey!" the Irishman complained and looked after the kid, only to turn his head and look at Carl's father again.

"Te fuck's wrong with him?"

"He wants to fight with us" Rick said and all three men watched the young boy grab two bags and walk out of the room.

Connor sighed and put his healthy hand on his hips.

"What, ye'd rather let him stay here and get shot t'shit? Be my guest" he muttered and looked at Rick again.

"You okay with te plan?"

It was very obvious that Rick didn't really -like- the plan, but their leader had never said anything against it ever since they had made the decision this morning.

"Everyone wants to stay here and protect this place. And your plan is better than sitting around here waiting for them to shoot us up again."

Connor nodded.

"Aye. My thinking" he said and turned around because he wanted to get started on moving the makeshift tunnel towards their cell block rather than towards cell block D where it was pointing at right now. He had made only two steps when Hershel suddenly called out. Connor stopped walking again and turned around to wait for the old man, who was limping in his direction.

"There's two things I would like to talk about before we go."

Connor frowned, confusion written all over his face.

"Aye?"

"Rick and I made the decision that Beth, Carl, Judith and me will go with Andrea and Michonne as soon as bullets start flying."

The Irishman frowned even more and looked at Rick, who just looked back at him and nodded.

"What? Are ye mental? You do know that Michonne and Andrea can't protect everyone over there, and that my idea might go wrong. 's pretty fucking dangerous, old man."

Hershel nodded and looked at Andrea, who had now entered the cell block as well and was giving the Irishman a couple of angry looks which he ignored completely.

"I know, but Andrea told us about a couple of people. People we know and who are decent. They were here before things went..." he stopped a moment and looked at Rick, who swallowed and looked down at his newborn child, seemingly embarrassed by something.

"When things were a little difficult. And we also met another man from Woodbury, the one who took care of you. Rick, Andrea and I are positive that they won't do us any harm over there, especially with all the dangerous ones gone and fighting you here. God's watching over us, and even if things go awry, we'll stick to the rest of the plan. Flee and head back to the agreed meeting point over at the old storage units should anything seem conspicuous."

Connor stared at Rick a little while longer before turning his head to let his gaze wander. He could see Beth and Carl enter and leave the cell block for the second time, then he looked at the baby in Rick's arms again and after doing that for a while he looked down and sighed.

"If Rick's fine with it. Isn't really up t'me. They're his children, it's yer daughter, yer life and your decision. Woodbury it is then. But please be fuckin careful.
And keep an extra eye on Daryl fer me, will ye?"

Hershel nodded and both men looked in the direction of the prison cells, where Daryl was still in bed and unconscious.

"What's the other thing ye wanna talk about?" Connor asked after a moment and looked at the old man again.

Hershel nodded and looked him in the eye as well.

"You know I'm not a big fan of your plan.."

Connor bit his upper lip and looked down. It still annoyed him how everyone kept criticizing his plan. He had thought that he was used to all the bitching, considering that his brother had been an expert at that, but he was far from staying cool now. He finally understood why Rick had been so stressed out and tense all the time. The group really was exhausting.

"But I do understand that all of this is necessary. I know that we need every fighting hand we can get right now, and I also know that my daughter is a strong and independent woman."

Connor looked him in the eye then, because he knew that this was important to Hershel.

"But if something happens to her or her fiancé during this battle, then you'll have to face me. Because I will make you responsible for everything that hurts her or puts her in danger."

The Irishman nodded slowly and put a hand on Hershel's shoulder.

"I promise I'm gonna keep yer daughter safe."

As soon as he let go the request made him frown.

"Fiancé though? What te fuck have I missed now?"

Hershel chuckled and nodded.

"A lot, apparently."

Connor couldn't say anything to that, because then the flickering of lights and the crackling of the intercom startled everyone inside the building.

"H..hello? Can you guys here me? This working?" they heard Glenn's voice echo all over the building, which made Connor cheer and everyone look up at the ceiling.

"That's my boy!" the Irishman said and clapped.

A moment later the loud buzzing and roaring of the alarm system went off, which they'd last heard when Andrew had attacked them. The noise stopped after a moment but had made Judith cry. Rick was having quite some trouble with her, which was why Carol came over to help him.

Connor had a look around the ceiling and nodded.

"Well, there's another one we can cross off the list. Maggie, Carol! Did ye check the East Wing?"

Hershel's daughter nodded while she passed him to head for the door.

"Done" she informed him, and Connor kept nodding.

"Good. Good."

"Alright, get the cars, make sure everything is secured and ready to go" Rick joined in as he got ready himself, now that Carol was the one holding his child.

Connor passed him and nudged their leader as he headed for the cell block.

"Alright, let's go get Daryl."

Rick nodded and followed the Irishman.

"Hershel and Glenn found some riot suits. But there's only three of them. I reckon that our snipers should were them. Meaning you, Glenn and Maggie" he said which made Connor nod.

"Aye, good idea. Better safe than sorry."

"I was gonna talk to you about Michonne as well. I think we should make her stay. She's good with her katana and an expert at close combat."

Connor shook his head as he opened the door to the cell in which they kept injured Daryl.

"Nah, we need every possible face and story those Woodbury fucks can remember t'make Andrea believable. She spent some time over there. And that without causing too much trouble. If my plan really works then we should be doing just fine here. Trust me, my plans always work. More or less. And maybe.."

He stopped mid sentence when he noticed Daryl, who was still lying in bed, but whose eyes were now open and staring back at him.

"'s 'bout time y'all get me outta here" the hunter growled, voice weak and croaky, but certainly not lacking the stubbornness.

"Te fuck" Connor gasped, and Rick smiled.

"You're awake" the policeman noted which made Daryl nod.

The hunter tried to sit up but failed miserably. One tiny bit of movement made him groan and wince, and Connor finally knew how to react again.

"Careful!" he exclaimed and approached his friend to help him sit.

"Ow, that hurt, asshole" Daryl mumbled when Connor moved him once more.

Once the two men had made sure that the injured hunter was in a comfortable position Connor kept his arms where they were, and wrapped them even tighter around his friend.

"Jesus fuckin Christ, I thought you was gonna fuckin die you fuckin asshole" he muttered into Daryl's naked shoulder as he fully got into the hug.

Emotion suddenly rushed over him because he had not been prepared for this, that he could really talk to his friend so soon after seeing him getting shot in the chest.

"Fuck fuck fuck" he muttered, and added even more pressure, ignoring the fact that he was scratching his friend because he was really burying his nails in his had been grumpy and worried all morning because he had hated seeing Daryl unconscious for so long. He wasn't used to such a long separation anymore, and he sure as hell didn't want to experience it ever again.

"I'm gonna leave you two alone for a bit. Help the others" he heard Rick say, but right now it didn't really matter because Daryl was fucking alive and awake after all the horror yesterday.

"If yah keep squeezin like that yah gonna get me killed, freak" Daryl grunted, but somehow still squeezed back at bit.

Connor finally let go so he could get a better look at his friend.

Daryl certainly didn't look or sound good. There were dark shadows under his eyes, he was very pale, the usually tense and strong muscles looking limb and weak now. The hunter could hardly keep himself upright and it was obvious that he was in much pain. He placed a gentle hand on the bandage, to start feeling and scratching.

"The fuck happened" he mumbled, voice determined and yet weak.

Connor could almost still hear the shot ringing in his ears as images of blood and bullets flying flashed before his eyes. He could feel it again, how his friend's blood had soaked his shirt as he had held him and carried him. When he had been running and running and so fucking scared... Anger suddenly rushed over him, and he leaned forward so he could start hitting Daryl's thigh with his flat palm, and that as hard as he could.

"You almost fuckin died's what fuckin happened! I told ye t'let me drive the fuckin car, and I told ye t'take it easy and you!didn't!really!fuckin!kill!him!" he snapped, underlining each of the last words with a hard slap.

Daryl winced and soon started yelling at his friend as well because it hurt, although he wasn't really yelling, and they weren't really fighting.
They both eventually calmed down and relaxed, and it got more and more obvious that Daryl really was exhausted and couldn't keep his eyes open for much longer.

Connor wiped his face with a tired sigh and then looked at his friend again. He was so happy to see him awake, but the sight also upset him a bit. He was used to Daryl being strong and bitchy. The scars on his chest didn't exactly make the sight any better, so the Irishman decided to keep his eyes fixed on his friend's tired face.

"Te Governor shot you. Andrea and I took ye back here. You almost didn't make it. But Hershel took care of ye and stitched ye up fer good."

For a moment he looked at his friend's bandaged arm, right where they had done the transfusion.
He was well aware of the large bruises on his own arm and hoped that Daryl couldn't make the connection right now.

He didn't want his friend to know yet.

Not about the blood, not about what had really happened back at the infirmary. He knew that Daryl was in a rather fragile state right now, and he didn't want to freak him out and stress him even more. Daryl seemed a bit confused as he checked his body and tried to make out what had happened to him, but he didn't seem to question him. The hunter gently felt his arm a bit longer and then looked at his friend again, concern written all over his face.

"What 'bout Merle? Everything's a bit of a blur t'be honest" he mumbled and rubbed his head.

Connor's blood ran cold when he heard that and for a moment he seriously didn't know what to say.
He put a hand on his mouth and started rubbing, unsure what to answer.

"Well..." he mumbled and felt even more uncomfortable when he saw the concerned look on Daryl's face.

Right then he heard Rick yell his name, and for the first time he actually thanked god for having someone interrupt his conversations.

"Let's talk about this later, aye? Ye should rest. Everything's gonna be alright, brother" he muttered and patted Daryl's thigh as he got up to leave.

Daryl kept staring at him like that and tried to grab his arm to hold him back, but he was already getting weaker and weaker and it really looked like he could fight the exhaustion much longer anyway. Connor left the cell without another word, and for a second he actually had to grab his rosary and started praying.

Please, god. Let this be temporary. Don't make 'im lose his brother twice.