New chapter! Sorry for the weirdness. I just felt the need to "explain" some of the latest chapters from another point of view. More or less.
Well you know my weird symbology writing by now, don't you.

setting: episode 16 "Welcome To The Tombs"

Damnation

Chapter 64 - Struggle

It was done. The prison was prepared for whatever battle was about to happen. Connor had been busy all morning, which was why he'd never had any time to worry about anything. But now that it was done he felt slightly nervous, because it had been far too long since he'd last fought a whole armed group like that. The Irishman was standing in the prison yard and let his gaze wander around the fence. They had managed to lure as many walkers to them as possible, and now there were countless undead piling up on the fences, shaking, growling and snapping at them. The group knew that the walkers wouldn't really keep the Woodbury soldiers away from them, but it would make the whole entering their prison harder for the enemy. Not to speak about the noise they were going to make as soon as they started killing and shooting the walkers.

The loud slam of a car door made Connor turn around. He could see the rest of the group getting ready to leave. The part of the group that was going to get out of here would be taking two cars, the Hyundai and one from the parking lot. There was a part of the Irishman that just wanted to screw everything and go with them, but he knew that they were too deep inside this whole mess by now, that they had riled up too many people and that they needed to end this somehow. Maybe his idea wasn't going to work, maybe they would all end up dying, but they couldn't keep going like that. If they didn't finish this now then the whole thing would go on forever, the living in fear for the rest of their lives, the constant threat of an attack and a never ending war with a whole town of complete nutters.

No. They needed to do this.

Connor approached one of the cars, the one in which they kept Daryl. His friend was going to be in the car with Hershel, Carl and Judith, whereas Andrea and Michonne were going to take Beth with them in the other car. This whole arrangement didn't exactly sit right with him, because he wanted his injured friend to be protected, but he figured that this was better than having Daryl right here in the line of fire.

"Everything alright?" he asked Hershel as he stepped closer to the car to have a look inside.

Daryl was already in there in the backseat, seated as securely and comfortable as possible, while being careful not to open his wounds. His friend was asleep again, since he was still rather weak. He had fainted soon after their talk while Connor had been busy filling the other cell block with walkers, and part of him was glad because of that. The Irishman still didn't know if his friend really couldn't remember what had happened to his brother, but he would have to deal with that later.

"Still feverish, and I don't think traveling will do him good. But what else can we do?"

Connor nodded and put a hand on Hershel's shoulder.

"Aye. Yer right. Look after him, will ye?" he asked and Hershel nodded as well.

"I will."

Connor then made his way over to the other car, where Michonne and Beth were busy putting bags in the trunk. Andrea was standing close to the drivers door where she was speaking to Rick. The two seemed to have finished their conversation just now, because the policeman walked away and Andrea turned around. She was looking at Connor, arms folded, and leaned against the car.

"You sure about all this? I just talked to Rick and..." she greeted him once again.

Connor sighed and stopped walking.

"Aye 'm sure. You said so yerself. Not all of 'em can be trusted. Best way t'get rid of 'em."

Andrea took a deep breath and just looked at him.

"You all could just come with us. This is your last chance to do the right thing. Please. Think about the others. Think about Daryl."

The Irishman just looked back at her.

"I am thinking about him."

"And what do you want me to tell him if they manage to kill you? What if they kill you all today?"

Connor snorted.

"I ain't gonna die" he said and then nudged Andrea's shoulder as well.

"You get my girlfriend over there in one piece, will ye?"

Andrea just nodded and rubbed her neck.

"Yeah" she said, still not liking the whole plan at all.

Connor then walked over to Rick, who was currently checking some of the office tables to make sure the flashbangs were secured.

"I think they're ready" Connor muttered as he watched the group put the last couple of bags inside.

Rick got up and watched them as well, and it was obvious that he was just as nervous. The former policeman watched his son carry another bag to the trunk, and Carl would greet him with just another angry glare. Ever since they had made the decision to send him away with the others the younger Grimes was angry at them.

"Yeah" their leader answered and cleaned his hands on his jeans.

"Question is: are we?"

Connor didn't say anything to that, he just watched how the others got inside the car.

Michonne came over to join them then.

"We're ready"she announced and both men nodded. Rick and Connor exchanged a few glances, then Rick started walking.

"Alright. Remember the plan. If all this goes south, we'll make our way back to the storage units. There's no need for any more unnecessary deaths.
Be careful, keep it low, look after each other. Especially after my son."

He approached Carl then, ignoring the fact how his child wanted to turn his back on him. Connor could also see how Maggie was saying goodbye to her father and sister, and when he noticed how Carol was by the car next to Daryl and he had nothing else to do he decided to walk over there as well. He slowed down because he didn't want to interrupt Carol's talk with his friend, but she was looking at him anyway and gave him a gentle smile.

"Shame he's not awake to see all this, isn't it?" she muttered and then looked at Daryl again, while holding and squeezing his hand for a bit.

Connor chuckled.

"Thank god he's knocked out. He'd kick my ass big time fer all this shit" he said and came closer.

They both looked at Daryl again, and Connor could tell that Carol was just as nervous as all the others. The Irishman sighed and put his healthy hand in his pocket.

"Ye don't have t'stay here, Carol" he said, which made the woman look at him.

"If ye wanna go with him.." he went on, but she shook her head.

"No. I want to help. He wouldn't want you to fight them off all on your own. It's something I have to do."

Connor smirked.

"Yer really tough, anyone ever tell ye that?"

Carol smirked as well.

"Nine lives" she just said and got up.

"I'll leave you two alone" she went on and then stroke his healthy shoulder while passing him. She suddenly stopped then.

"And thank you."

Connor frowned.

"For what?"

Carol looked at sleeping Daryl.

"For bringing him back to us. And saving his life."

The Irishman looked at his friend as well and shrugged.

"He saved mine plenty of times. 's what friends do."

Carol nodded.

"I know. But I still wanted to thank you. I know I wasn't exactly considerate when you came back. I was just scared of you and your blood."

Connor wouldn't say anything to that. It was true that Carol had made him feel uncomfortable at first, whenever she had mentioned how much he scared her. He still remembered her words from that first night. He's creeping me out. What if he infects us or turns? I don't want him near us. It wasn't like he was touchy. And it also wasn't like it had hurt his feelings or anything like that, but still. She really hadn't been nice at all. Especially since she had been the one voicing his exact own fears.

"And now look at us. It did in fact save him rather than kill him. So really. I am sorry. Andthank you."

"Don't mention it" the Irishman muttered and then placed his healthy hand on hers for moment, to let her know that there never had been any hard feelings going on.

Carol smiled and then nodded, only to make her way over to the others so Connor could say goodbye to Daryl for now.
The Irishman approached the car and then crouched down so he could be at eye-level with his friend.

"Hey, man" he greeted the hunter and then rubbed his mouth.

"Yeah I know, all this is pretty stupid right here, and shame on you fer not helping us" he muttered and let his gaze wander again. He could see all the walkers, all the barricades and traps they had build. In just a couple of minutes this whole place would be flodded with walkers, destroying all of their efforts to make this place safe.

"But it needs t'be done" he said more to himself than to Daryl.

He suddenly felt doubts, and Andrea's nagging certainly played an important part there. Maybe they really could just go over there with them? He shook his head and tried to remind himself of all the other things he had seen and heard about Woodbury. Child soldiers. People who knew about the fact that the Governor slaughtered army men and others just to get their ammo and supplies. All these bastards who had helped him with all these murders and tortures and god knows what kind of shit they had done. They would never be able to march into Woodbury and kill all the evil ones without making the good ones hate them and see them as terrorists. No. They needed to make them understand that they didn't want to killeveryone, that they were the good ones.

He prayed to god that there really were some good ones left, because he was sending Daryl over there after all. He grabbed his rosary and started praying for his friend and for the group, and after doing that for a couple of minutes he came to the conclusion that this wasn't enough. He opened his eyes and looked at Daryl, stared at the bandage and pale skin and sighed. The Irishman took his rosary and lifted it up so he could get rid of it and then stroke the wooden surface while staring at it for a good couple of minutes.

"Y'know what" he muttered after thinking it through.

He then lifted the rosary up and put it around Daryl's neck instead.

"Hold on t'that fer me. God knows what kinda shit I might do t'day. Let's see if I'm worthy enough t'wear it after all this mess t'day."

He adjusted the rosary until it was lying right on top of the bullet wound, hoping to make it heal faster that way.

"Means god's watching over ye" he went on and smiled, because once again he could almost hear Daryl complain about it.

He nudged his friend's chest and then adjusted his seat belt.

"See ye later" he said then and got up, because he didn't want to spend too much time being with Daryl or else his doubts would get even worse.

Connor closed the door and then walked over to the rest of the group, where Maggie, Hershel and Beth were just done saying goodbye as well.

"Alright. Guess we're set. Remember: stay close, maybe nothing happens t'day. Better safe than sorry though. As soon as ye hear the first bullets fly and the alarm goes off you get away from here as fast as ye can and make yer way over t'Woodbury."

He reminded the drivers Andrea and Hershel, who nodded. He then looked at Glenn, Maggie, Carol and Rick.

"We're gonna stay here. And welcome the rest t'our little party."

It felt like he was still speeding down the road, chasing someone or something he didn't really know. The last thing Daryl really remembered was walking down some field, heading right for his friend, and he had been so relieved because something had happened, something he couldn't remember. Connor was standing there, almost like he was waiting for him to get his ass over there, but somehow Daryl could never get there. Whenever he was soclose he suddenly felt a burning sharp pain in his chest, like someone had stabbed him right in his lungs.

He also remembered the stabbing, remembered all the blood on his hands without really knowing where it was coming from, but when he looked down on himself he knew where it came from. He was bleeding. And it hurt. He didn't really remember falling, but then he was suddenly lying on his back, staring straight up at the sky while the pain got worse and his chest got wetter and wetter. It felt like he was back at the ridge when he had fallen as well, falling and falling with nothing but pain and blood and the wetness of the water that drenched his clothes just like the blood that was drenching them now.

The hunter stared straight up at the sky and then a face swam into view, but he was so confused and in so much pain that it looked like there were two faces instead of one. Two people instead of the only one he knew was right there, because he could hear his frantic screams and see the flash of tattoos. He knew Connor was there, because he had been walking in his direction, but right now Connor didn't really matter, because there was just the blue sky and the other person right next to him.

He recognized it. Short hair. Black shirt. One hand. Merle was standing there, right next to Connor who was ripping his shirt open and made him scream in pain. Daryl still couldn't stop staring at his brother, who crouched down next to him with that broad and evil smile on his face.

"Hey watcha screaming about, Darylena? Yah some pussy now cos of some little scratch, hm? Yah wanna attract more of them biters and make 'em kill yah and your boyfriend?"

Daryl coughed and tried to fight the hands that where feeling his chest and kept touching and touching the wound thatburned. Only part of him was aware how he was being stripped of his shirt and jacket, how Connor kept screaming and talking to him, but somehow he couldn't hear or see him, all he could see was his grinning brother, who was right next to his friend.

"I don't...I don't wanna..I ain't gonna die" he grunted and kept staring at his grinning and laughing brother, who grabbed him by his face and made him look at him.

Daryl just wanted to sleep because he was getting so tired and cold, but Merle wouldn't let him.

"Now yah listen t'me, little D" he said, but the younger Dixon's eyes still rolled back and he couldn't stop staring at the sky. He could hear and feel how both Merle and Connor were shaking him and talking to him, but he couldn't keep his eyes off the sky, the sun that was getting brighter and brighter until it was blinding him so much that he had to turn his head away.

The scenery suddenly changed around him and he was staring at cold and dirty tiles. Connor was there again but this time there were other people, too. His group, he could see them all. Hershel, Beth, Rick. Carol, who was standing there with a hand on her mouth and tears running down her cheeks. He could feel the intense pain in his chest again, which was only getting amplified by the fact that someone seemed to be pumping his chest over and over again.

And once again he couldn't stop staring, and then there he was again, his brother, walking past Carol with that grin. He leaned in to be face to face with him. Daryl could feel himself drift away again, like he was still inside the car, still speeding down the road, chasing something, heading somewhere he didn't know. There was a heaviness that clung to his entire body, pulling and pulling him down and calling him.

"Hey" Merle said and grabbed his face to make him look at him again.

"Don't be running baby brother" the older Dixon demanded while the pumping and yelling all around Daryl wouldn't stop.

"Yah gonna be a pussy for much longer? Or are yah gonna be a man for once?"

Daryl wanted to answer but couldn't, because there it was again, the heaviness, the calling, and when he finally managed to turn his head he was staring at...

The bottom of a bunk bed.

Connor was there once again but he couldn't see Merle, couldn't see his brother, and he was so confused and didn't know what the fuck was going on, and when even Connor couldn't answer him he asked for the only person he knew who could.

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

And truth be told: a blur was an understatement. He was still in much pain, and still so incredibly sick, tired and dizzy, so when his friend told him to rest his obeyed without any protest. Just like the many strange times before he just wanted to sleep, just wanted to stop struggling and fighting, so he closed his eyes and it felt so good to let go, felt so good to just stop that he..

Daryl could feel how someone was shaking him and growled. He didn't want to wake up, not now, not when he was finally allowed to give in.

"Look atcha. Lying around sleepin all day while all the others do th'dirty work for ya.h Didn't raise yah t'be no lazy princess."

Although the younger Dixon hated all the mockings, he still had to smile whenever he heard that voice. Daryl turned his head slightly and was confused when he felt that he was actually sitting rather than lying. He couldn't remember getting up, but the scenery around him had changed so many times and so fast now that he didn't even mind it anymore. Whatever kind of trippy thing was going on right now, he was too exhausted and weak to care.

"Just tired, bro" Daryl muttered and shifted, only to finally open his eyes.

He was confused. He remembered lying in his bed back at the prison like..a minute ago, so why the hell was he sitting inside a car all of a sudden? He frowned but vaguely remembered being inside a car. Right. He had been speeding. He had been chasing something. In a car. Yes. He remembered it now. Daryl turned his head to look at his brother. He could even see it behind him now. The road, the trees. The car wasn't moving, and now that he thought about it, he could actually explain himself why he was feeling so dizzy and why he was in pain.

The car. The chase. The tree.

Right. He had crashed the car. He could remember it now, the screeching of the tires, the twisting and turning, the collision with the tree.
Merle was grabbing his face for the third time to make him look at him, and for the first time the younger Dixon was actually able to stay awake.

"Yah listen t'me now, little D. Yah gonna wake up now, and yah gonna stop goin after me."

Daryl answered his brother with a tired smirk but had a hard time keeping his eyes open.

"Watcha talkin about. Just found yah. Ain't no way I ain't following you everywhere now."

Merle grabbed his face harder and shook his head.

"No, bro. 'member what I told you when we was talkin about your dear friend Rick's little plan?"

Daryl frowned and tried to concentrate, but it only made him feel even more dizzy and confused.

"You need t'grow up" Merle went on and his brother remembered the words now. They rang a bell in his head. A dangerous bell. He remembered bits and pieces of that conversation, and he knew that there was something important about it. Daryl stared at his brother with a confused frown, fear suddenly rushing over him.

"Yah don't need your old bro Merle no more. Never did. Never will. So stop lookin for me. Shoulda stopped lookin for me right back at Atlanta.
Ain't no need for yah t'follow me. Not now. Ain't the time yet, little D. Ain't the time."

"The hell are yah talkin 'bout?" Daryl asked, which made Merle grin.

The younger Dixon startled when he heard the sudden and loud cry of a baby in the front seat, and the screams got louder and louder with every second.
Daryl turned his head after a moment to look at his brother again, who patted his chest right where the pain was which made his younger half grunt.

"Do me proud, baby bro" he said and then turned around to walk away.

Daryl watched him leave with wide eyes.

"Merle!" he shouted and wanted to go after his brother, but a heavy weight on his lap wouldn't let him move.

"Merle!" he yelled once more and saw how the older Dixon was walking further and further away from the car, to a point where he almost couldn't see him anymore. Daryl struggled even more and turned his head to see what the fuck was keeping him inside this godforsaken car. He noticed the seatbelt that kept him in place and tried fighting it in panic, desperate to go after his brother.

He wanted to shout Merle's name once more, but when he turned his head again the yell died right in his throat because of the sudden shock. The screams of the baby were fully present now and ringing in his ears, but this wasn't the worst part. He was no longer staring at the face of his brother, no, this time there was someone else standing right next to him. Daryl widened his eyes and the shout for his brother turned into a surprised scream. Merle was gone, and he was only inches away from the rotten and bloody face of a walker.