Damnation

Chapter 69 - Answers

It was getting dark outside when he was finally allowed to enter the room where they kept Milton. Dr Stevens had taken care of his bruises and broken bones for now, but since the man was no soldier nor a tough guy he wasn't doing too good. Andrea had stayed with him for a while and even now Connor didn't really get why she would get along with a guy like that, but he didn't want to ask questions, and the truth was that he wasn't really interested in anyone else's relationships anyway. As soon as he entered the room Milton's swollen eyes widened as good as they could, and the man obviously recognized Connor from that godforsaken night.

"It's you!" he was greeted without hesitation, and Andrea just looked at Connor for a moment.

"This is Connor. Connor, this is Milton" she introduced them to each other, since both men had never really met each other like normal people did.

"He has a few questions for you about a friend of ours. You okay with that?" she went on and looked at the injured man, who was pressing some sort of ice on his right eye.

Milton nodded eagerly and then sat up on his bed.

"Of course " he said and then looked at her, but not without eyeing Connor for a good minute.

There was both fascination and fear in his eyes, because he was obviously very interested in Connor's immunity, but also respected his strength after what the Irishman had done to his nose that day. Connor just leaned against the door frame and folded his arms as good as he could with his broken hand. He stared back at the man, obvious anger but also the same kind of interest showing in his eyes.

"Would you please leave us alone for a bit?" Milton asked Andrea, who looked at both him and Connor for a moment.

"You sure about this?"

Both men nodded, so she got up with a sigh.

"Okay. I'm with Mich and the others if you need me" she muttered and then left the room with a headshake, obviously not liking the idea that these two men were alone again.

As soon as she had closed the door behind Connor there was silence going on between them for a while, and Milton kept staring at the Irishman.
He didn't look at him like he was interested in his appearance or a conversation with him, no, once again it looked like he was examining him like a test subject.

"I already talked to your friend just yesterday. I'm really glad you made it."

Connor snorted and moved away from the door frame so he could get closer to Milton.

"Ye mean after you trapped me in yer fucking lab and stuck needles in me like I'm a fuckin lab monkey?"

Milton shifted and winced since he had obviously been beaten up quite hard.

"It was necessary."

"Aye, well maybe te whole beating and breaking yer nose thing was necessary as well" Connor went on and came closer.

He wouldn't stop looking Milton right in the eye, which the other man certainly didn't like at all.
He looked rather intimidated and then stared at his nervous moving hands.

"I..talked to your friend about your...condition" he said and finally looked at Connor again.

"Did he tell you?"

The blonde Irishman frowned a little, since no such talk had happened between him and Daryl yet.

"No?"

Milton shifted once again and seemed to get excited.

"There is so much to tell you. Your results are...well you are extraordinary. I..pardon my choice of words and excitement, it's just that I've never come even close to such great test results. I've only heard about it back when the outbreak started. And now we've found you. Your blood reacted with the test samples and did the most remarkable..."

"Shut it" Connor interrupted the man then and automatically grabbed his arm, the one where the first bite had happened. Even now there was something like phantom pain going on in there, and it never seemed to fade when someone was talking about it. Milton shut up and swallowed, obviously fearing another punch or anything like that. Connor finally stopped looking at him and let go of his arm. It was silent for a moment, then the Irishman sighed and shook his head.

"Some weird shit is happening" he began and then looked at Milton once more.

"And I need yer help."

Milton tensed and grabbed and squeezed his hands.

"S..sure."

Connor looked out of the window then. He could see how the sun was setting, and there were some lights out there in the others houses.
Even now it still creeped him out. He wasn't used to electricity and lit up rooms anymore.

"We got a vet with us, but he doesn't really know about that shit. Then I got stuck in yer freak show fer a couple of minutes, and after everything I heard Andrea say about ye I thought you'd be the most fitting person ta ask this."

Milton kept nodding but still seemed very nervous and even a bit anxious.

"Okay?"

"That friend you mentioned" Connor muttered and started walking around the room for a bit. He didn't really want to speak it out because he knew how easy it was to freak other people out with the whole immunity thing. The group hadn't exactly welcomed him after he and Daryl had returned this spring, and he didn't even want to know what kind of riot or even murder could commence should the people of Woodbury get to know that two people inside their town were infected with something new, something weird, and something that could possibly be dangerous.

"He got shot by yer Governor yesterday. He nearly died."

Milton widened his eyes a bit.

"Did he? I'm sorry."

Connor shrugged.

"Whatever, ye don't have ta be. Cos he made it. But he only made it because I gave him my blood after he lost too much of his own."

Milton froze and looked at Connor in both surprise and shock.

"You did what?"

The Irishman nodded.

"Aye, I did. And it worked. He's doing relatively fine. He's up in an apartment right now. Resting fer a bit. Te blood ain't the worst part, the bullet wound's not doing him much good but.."

The Irishman sighed and rubbed his forehead. Part of him got aware of the fact that he really needed to cut it again, because the whole messy and annoying bits of his pointy fringe were actually getting too long for him to keep them up and out of his eyes.

"Well, we noticed that the blood changed shit fer him as well. And now I just wanna know if you know anything about that, and if you can tell me if it's going to last, get worse or subside after a while like it did with me. I need ye ta take a look at him, maybe even at his blood, see what's happening, and ye gotta make sure he's alright and that he's going ta make it after that nasty fuckin shot. I don't know. You know yer town best, you know yer capabilities. And if yer really not such a fucking douchebag like Andrea says then I think ye know that you kinda owe me and pretty much our entire group."

Milton adjusted his glasses with a gentle sigh.

"Just like I told your friend: I don't know that much about the virus or whatever it is.." he muttered and tensed when he saw how Connor seemed to get angry because of that answer.

"But I can try my best. I'm going to ask Dr Stevens to take a couple of blood samples and take care of your friend's injuries..."

The Irishman shook his head.

"No, I want you ta do this shit. Nobody needs ta know about this" he muttered and Milton nodded.

"I know, then simply don't tell her about the transfusion. I'm not a doctor, what was your name again? Connor? I'm not a doctor, Connor. I am a scientist. You should get some medical treatment from doctor Stevens. She should be available now. I can take a look at your samples and do some experiments after that. "

Connor clenched his healthy hand to a tight fist because he still didn't like the answer. He had wanted Milton to come with him right away and tell him what the hell was up with Daryl. He also knew that the man was right and that he needed help and rest himself for now, but that didn't mean he liked that.

"Alright" he growled and turned around to head for the door, but just when he was about to leave he suddenly remembered the one question that had been bugging him ever since he had discovered that he was immune. For a moment Connor just stood there, hand still rested on the door handle. A sudden wave of sadness rushed over him just like every time he thought about it. But now he was here. With Milton. In this room. After all these months he was finally with a man who could give him some peace. Probably.

"I got another question, actually" he said and turned around to look at Milton. The man was looking back at him, curiosity showing in his eyes.

"What is it?" he asked after a while, because Connor wouldn't tell him right away.

The Irishman was struggling a bit, because part of him didn't even want to hear an answer anymore.
But then he decided that maybe he really needed to end this once and for all. He stepped closer to the bed again.

"I..." he took a deep breath and looked away.

"I had a brother once. A twin brother."

He closed his eyes and tried to remember Murphy for a moment, but even now there were only a couple of images dominating his memory. Murphy getting bit, and Murphy dying in his arms. Oh it had been so many months now. He had burned and buried practically everything by now, but the pain would never really go away, and he would never stop missing his twin like hell.

"He got bit in the shoulder. It was a nasty bite. Too much blood" he muttered, voice soft and sad.

"He would've died no matter what, but still. Ever since I found out about this blood thing I can't help but wonder... could he've been immune as well?"

Milton eyed Connor a little closer and seemed to pick up on the fact that it was really important to the Irishman.

"Identical twins?"

The blonde shook his head.

"Fraternal."

Milton nodded and tried to get to his notepad, which was lying on the table close to the bed.
Connor rushed to help him get to it, because he really wanted to know the answer.

"Did he turn after he died? Your brother, I mean?"

Connor swallowed hard and even now something in his brain just made him freeze at the mention of his brother's death. It felt like something in his head just closed itself up like a massive wall, to protect him from the immense pain that was still in there, somewhere. He nodded after a minute of trying to stay calm.

"Aye. I shot him, in the head."

"I'm sorry" Milton said and Connor just nodded. The scientist then started to turn pages in his notepad for a while.

"Well, since you were fraternal twins there's no clear answer to that. You were just like any other siblings, only that you were born on the same day, right?"

Connor nodded once more.

"Aye. Just a couple of minutes apart. Well, 's what our Ma always said anyway. Dunno who came out first, though."

"That doesn't matter. You don't have identical DNA signatures, which means that there's no guarantee that you had the same blood type and immune system quirks.
And it's your bloodtype and the physical makeup of your blood that makes you special."

"Did have the same blood type" Connor answered stubbornly and tried to get a better look at Milton's scribblings, but the scientist wouldn't let him.

"What about the rest of your family? Any other siblings? Parents? Did they get bit as well when the outbreak started?"

Connor shook his head and looked at his own bite wound again.

"Nah. Just me 'n Murph. Our Da died before all that shit. God rest his soul" he answered and crossed himself.

"Our Ma lived back in Ireland. Pretty sure she's dead as well. Don't know her blood type. Whatever it was, woman was tough, but old and sure as hell not strong enough ta fight all.."

He took a deep breath because another wave of sadness crushed down on him when he had to think about his mother.
How she might have ended up fighting and getting eaten back inside their old house or old church. Jesus fucking Christ was that shit unfair.

"Well, they're all dead now. 'm all that's left from that family. Just wanted t'know if..well if the timing had been different and the bite hadn't been fatal, then maybe he could've..y'know?"

Milton stopped turning pages then and looked Connor in the eye.

"There is a possibility that your brother could've been immune as well."

The Irishman froze and looked at the man for a while. He didn't like the answer at all.

"But...well he turned..."

"We don't know for sure, and I really want to doubt it, but there's also a possibility that you could turn as well. Should you ever die."

Connor stared at Milton then.

"What?"

The man nodded.

"Your immune system neutralized the infection and everything that is causing the dead to walk. But we don't know what happens when your body dies. When your life energy fades and your immune system fails. It could stay neutralized, the infection could destroy your antibodies and t-killer cells and feed off them or your dying body could kill the neutralized infection as well, I don't know yet. At the moment we just know that your blood can stop an infection and the turning process, but we don't know for how long and how in general."

The Irishman was actually speechless for a while. He didn't know what to say. He had always assumed that he was no longer a threat, that maybe he had been healed or some crap like that. This had been the exact reason why he had been so frivolous the entire time. He had thought that the immunity made him invincible. Invincible for the undead, but far far from immortal. He had been looking forward to dying one day without having to come back as a rotting corpse and waiting for someone to bash his brains in.

"Did your friend tell you about Augusta?" Milton asked and snapped Connor out of it.

"What? No. What about that?"

"There's a temporary medical research center there.. The CDC blew up last year, but we were in contact with the team back in Augusta for a little while longer after that. But then their radio died. They might still be there. They were working on something before the winter. I told your friend that we should take you there sooner or later. Both of you. I'm sure they can give you more answers there. About yourself, your friend. Your brother..."

Connor nodded, suddenly lost in thoughts. He had not known anything about Augusta until now, but maybe Milton really had a point.

"All the answers I can give you right now is that I need to do more tests. Your brother could've been immune but it doesn't have to be like that. I don't know" the scientist mumbled, and it was now obvious that he was very tired and in pain from the beating he had received earlier.

"And I don't know what's causing the undead to refrain from attacking you and your friend either."

He sighed and rubbed his head.

"Now if you'll excuse me. I need to rest. Ask doctor Stevens. She can tell you more about Augusta. She can help you and I think she's got the time now."

The Irishman nodded and scratched his stubble covered chin.

"Aye" he said and turned around to leave, his mind racing with sudden new ideas, theories and even more questions than before.

When he finally managed to bring Dr Steven to their new apartment he wasn't really surprised to find his friend in bed. Daryl was lying there on the double bed, still wearing all his clothes but covered with a blanket. He didn't really blame his friend because it was a rather cool evening, and when Connor walked around the bed he noticed that his friend was actually really sleeping. Daryl still looked miserable and sickly, but he was glad that his friend gave his body some time to rest for now.

The Irishman looked up and nodded at the woman, to let her know that it was alright to enter and have a look at Daryl. Connor turned on the lamp on the bedside table and had to smile because it actually worked. He then wanted to place a gentle hand on Daryl's shoulder to wake his friend up, but the hunter was faster than him once more. His eyes snapped open and he grabbed his wrist with his one hand, while using the other to draw his knife from under the pillow. Connor was already used to this procedure by now so he moved his other arm up just in time to block the knife-to-the-throat attack.

"I got yer a doctor, dumbass" he muttered and Daryl let go of him. The hunter growled and grabbed his pillow stubbornly.

"Don't need no doctor" he growled and Connor nudged his shoulder.

"Come on ye grumpy asshole, that's not how ye treat a lady" he answered and kept shoving at Daryl.

The hunter turned around in surprise to look at the woman behind him. He had not expected the doctor to be a woman, and he automatically grabbed his blanket to pull it up higher. He had forgotten that he was still wearing his shirt, and he didn't want any stranger to see his scars no matter what. He managed to sit up after a moment and Connor retreated with a pleased smile so Dr Stevens could get to his friend.

"I'm Dr Stevens. And I'm not having any sick patients here" she introduced herself and then tried to get a look at Daryl's chest.

"You got shot?"

Daryl looked up to narrow his eyes at Connor for a moment. His friend knew exactly how much he hated it when people treated him like he needed help when he didn't even want it. The Irishman obviously seemed to enjoy his victory though, because he started grinning at him and nodded.

"Aye, Ma'am. He did. In the chest. One of our group stitched it up, but he's no doctor and our dear friend Daryl ain't doing so good.."

"Bullshit."

"...he just doesn't like ta admit it."

Daryl suddenly hissed when Dr Stevens opened his layers of shirts and got rid of the bandage on his chest.

"Hey, watch out, lady" he growled and shifted. Dr Stevens ignored him and kept going.

"Well your friend didn't exactly do a very good job, but it's good enough to keep it closed. I'm going to clean it. I don't really want to open up the stitches when your wound is still healing. But it is important for you to stay in bed and rest. The wound needs to close itself and heal properly before we can put you to work again."

Daryl kept glaring at Connor because he felt rather awkward right now. He still hated to be touched by anyone but his close friends, and the fact that a woman was touching him now made it even worse. It wasn't like he had never been close to a woman before, and it wasn't like no woman had ever touched him, but he didn't like it when strangers did it. So he judged his friend as good as he could, although he knew that Connor just wanted him to get better. The blonde stood there by the bed with folded arms and looked back at him, grin growing wider and wider as if he was trying to tell him:

Told you so.

Daryl narrowed his eyes even more.

Screw you.

Another hiss escaped his mouth when Dr Steven's finger moved across a particularly sensitive spot of the wound.

"Man up" Connor said then, which made Daryl even more furious.

"Oh shut up, leprechaun."

The Irishman chuckled but then looked at Dr Stevens.

"Don't ferget about the blood samples...please. Milton needs those. He also wants ta check mine."

Dr Stevens suddenly moved a hand in the air to hush the Irishman.

"One at a time, sunny."

This nickname made Daryl smirk then.

"Yeah, sunny. Shut your hole."

Connor threw his hands in the air in defeat and retreated to the back of the room, so he could sit down on the couch and wait until it was his turn. Daryl had to get rid of his shirts and jacket after a while and Dr Stevens told him to lay on his belly for a bit so she could take a look at the entry wound. Even now Connor couldn't really hide his shock and pain whenever he saw his friend's bare back, because despite the unfinished tattoo one could still see the scars all too clearly. Just like any other doctor the woman tried to engage his friend in a casual conversation about the scars and asked if those were from fighting walkers, but that topic was a conversation killer and Daryl just replied with one grumpy "No". Dr Stevens fell quiet then and stayed like that for the rest of the treatment, until she was done with the bullet wound and took the blood samples like Milton and Connor had told her to.

Daryl's previous better mood had subsided by now and it was obvious that he was very tired and in pain. He got some antibiotics and other medicine which he didn't like at all. But he gave in and let her prick him and give him pills. It was Connor's turn next, although he protested just like his friend. He didn't want her to see the bite wound on his shoulder but it seemed like Milton had already told her, and soon he was the one who was told to undress and stop squirming. Daryl was the one watching them with a worried look on his face then, because the hunter had not known about the new infection and slight purulence until now.

"No matter what is wrong with you and whatever Milton plans to do with you, you need people to take care of that. You're close to a blood poisoning" the doctor complained and Connor just grunted, because he was too busy fighting the urge to hiss and wince. The woman was manhandling him and far from tender as she cleaned and disinfected his shoulder as good as she could, and even after she was finished with that she was far from done. His broken hand was up next, and she wouldn't stop complaining about that as well. She started telling him all sorts of horror stories about how crippled his left hand was going to be if they didn't use a proper splint, but Connor didn't really want to care or listened to whatever she had to say.

Daryl was still lying in bed opposite him and he was watching them with weary eyes. Despite all the manhandling, pain and complains Connor actually had to smile when their glances met, because after such an intense couple of days relief suddenly rushed over him. Daryl was doing okay, a doctor had taken care of him, he had survived the shot, they had a roof above their heads and everything was over. Everything was going to be okay. They were okay. At least for now. Augusta could wait for a bit, and maybe Milton could give them some answers before that. They would manage Woodbury with the others, they had walls, food, medicine, a doctor, lots of guns and ammo, electricity, and a large number of people with them now. And although they were both pretty much screwed he was surprised that he was actually happy. Really and properly happy.

The happiness wouldn't subside even after Dr Stevens left them alone and Daryl forced him to sleep on the couch. Once all lights were out and Woodbury was falling quiet outside Connor just lay on the piece of furniture that was way too small for him and stared out of the window. With the sudden relief and happiness peace didn't leave him waiting for too long either. For the first time in months no thoughts and worries tortured him that night, and after watching the clouds drift and his friend sleep for a while he finally closed his eyes as well, and there were no more nightmares, no pain, just peace.