end of days

It took three people to pull Rick off of Connor.

He'd done the math, seen his new-born baby, seen the look of numbness across his sons face and the amount of blood that had soaked through Maggie's clothes, and hadn't found Lori anywhere behind them. After the initial shock had sunk in, he'd turned to the only other person who had been with them, and the prison overalls had meant that in his mind, somehow the man wearing them had been responsible. It wasn't logical, and somewhere in his mind Rick knew that. But there was no way Lori was gone – no way. That's not how it was supposed to go, none of this was supposed to happen. Hershel wasn't supposed to get hurt and lose his leg, and Lori was not meant to be gone. And the only farfetched connection his grief stricken mind could make as he grabbed the Irishman and practically threw him against the closest wall was that 'he was there'. He was there both times, this was his fault.

Glenn was the first to try and help Murphy separate the two men, but Rick was like a man possessed. Whenever someone grabbed at an arm he'd violently yank it away, send small amounts of blood flying in odd directions. They were on the floor now, with Connor at the receiving end of punch after punch, hit after hit. With his arms pinned he could only take the blows as they came until finally it came to a stop. Letting his brother help him up, he gingerly wiped the back of his hand under his nose, which was now streaming with thick, dark blood. Rick hadn't tried to get back up, and Glenn and Daryl weren't restraining him. The cries coming from him didn't sound human, just an animalistic wailing which resonated around the quiet of the prison yard. No one knew what to say or what to do, none wanted to attempt to comfort their leader, not right now. Connor only looked away when Murphy touched his arm, and wordlessly urged him to follow him back inside. He caught Maggie's eye briefly, but she only looked away as she found the crook of Glenn's neck, the baby girl held tightly in her arms.

Inside, Connor silently made his way to sit on the stairs leading to their cell while Murphy foraged in the supply bags for some kind of antiseptic, or something close to it. Rick had messed Connor's face up pretty well, and while they'd both been in their share of playground beatings and bar room brawls, it didn't change the fact that it hurt like a bitch for a good day or two after. Settling for a bottle of water and a clean rag, Murphy took his place next to his brother, opening the bottle and wetting the cloth.

"You really gonna try an' play nurse..?" The comment itself lacked its normal, teasing tone, and only got half a smile from the other twin.

"Aye, I'll do me best" For a little while, the boys sat in silence as Murphy cleaned the blood from his brother's face, dabbing the wounds as gently as he could. His left side had taken the brunt of the beating, and a small part of him couldn't wait to see how bad Connor's black eye would be tomorrow. Occasionally, Connor would cringe back from his brother's touch, to which Murphy would just roll his eyes.

"Quit bein' such a baby…" after a pause, he glanced up from the bottle. "…What was that about?"

"Hm?"

"Just now – what was it about? Why'd he lay into you?"

"…No reason. It's nothin'."

"You're really gonna sit there and lie to my face? What the fuck's going on?"

"I told you, nothin'"

"Bullshit. Just talk to me, Conn' - tell me what happened back there. Couldn't'a been that bad, could it?" Immediately, Murphy saw a kind of tenseness come over the other, his jaw tightening ever so subtly as he averted his eyes. Then his expression fell a little, his tone dropping down to a mutter. "…Y'weren't bitten or anythin'? Because if that's it I swear to God-" When the only response he got was Connor gingerly rubbing a hand over his face and turning away, the rise of panic only worsened as Murphy grabbed the front of his brother's shirt, tugging him round to face him again as his eyes went to both of Connor's arms, then his neck, hurriedly checking for bite wounds that he might have somehow missed before.

"Fuckin' tell me that's not it, Connor – tell me, or I'll-"

"No, no – it's nothin' like that, I'm alright, I'm fine" There was a brief moment where Murphy seemed to be reading him for any sign of a lie, but once he was satisfied, the sigh of relief that followed was a heavy one.

"Okay...alright, that's good – and fuck you for lettin' me think that, too."

"Sorry…"

"Aye, I know y'fuckin' are…so?"

After another expectant nod from his brother, eventually Connor filled him in on what had happened after the walkers had gotten into the yard. Resting his elbows on his knees, he slowly pushed his fingernails through his hair as he explained how useless he'd felt, as though he'd just let it happen, and how he knew how ridiculous it was to feel so emotionally heavy about something he couldn't control. Murphy just listened dutifully, cautiously resuming the clean-up job on his brother's face as he told him everything that was on his mind.

"…He was there the whole time, right there with her"

"Who?"

"Carl – the kid with the hat"

"Look…There wasn't anythin' y'could've done, Connor. Y'need to let it go"

"Easy for you to say – you weren't there."

"Aye, I know – but even if I had been, there wouldn't have been anythin' we could have done, and you know it." Right then, Murphy noticed something, and moved the collar of Connor's prison uniform aside.

"Where's y'rosary..? You take it off?"

"No – I gave it to Carl…figured Lori might'a wanted it, or he might've-"

"Christ, you should start keepin' a list of all the strangers you're lendin' it out to"

"They're not strangers, Murph', not anymore anyway. If this is gonna work out best for us, we need to stop thinkin' of them like that"

"Aye, I'll do that – once they stop lookin' at me like I just burned down their clubhouse."

"Fair enough…" For a little while both men just sat in quiet. Murphy finished cleaning his twin's injuries, and teasingly held the bottle of water just out of his reach before taking a long drink from it himself. Though the small amount of humour they'd summoned was quickly snuffed out by the sound of the rest of the group heading inside. Without another thought, Connor clapped his brother on the chest with the back of his hand and nodded up towards their cell, to which Murphy quietly agreed, following Connor up the stairs and out of sight as the others headed further in in a deathly silent procession. With another glance toward the stairs, just then Murphy was reminded of something Rick had mentioned earlier that day. Passing Connor the water, he leaned on the bed frame, picking at the skin around his thumb as he switched out of English, for safe measure.

"Hey…Can I ask you somethin'?" A rhetorical question, they both knew. "Rick said somethin' earlier, about some 'proposition' or some shit like that – you know what he's talkin' about?"

With a thoughtful swallow, Connor nodded.

"Aye…I meant to talk to you about it."

"Talk to me about what? What's he on about?"

"…When I was showin' them where the food was, I told Rick…I thought that maybe we could join their group"

Frowning his usual frown, one normally found on a child who doesn't understand something, and doesn't enjoy the feeling of stupidity that often comes with it, Murphy shot another look outside of the cell before stepping in front of his brother.

"You what…?"

"Murph'…"

"Y'didn't think it was important to tell me somethin' like that? Jesus fuckin' Christ, y'could've maybe run that by me?"

"For fucks sake, calm down. It's a good plan, Murphy. Safety in numbers and all that shit"

"I see your point, I do. But why them?"

"Why not them? Murph', we're in prison jumpsuits with giant fuckin' neon arrows over our heads that spell out 'do not trust these assholes, they kill people!' – we're pretty fuckin' lucky this lot haven't evicted us already, and don't you forget that."

"Don't fuckin' patronise me, Connor."

"Then stop actin' like a stroppy child."

"Oh fuck you – it's me and you, that's how it's always been! We don't them"

"Yeah, actually, we do. We need numbers, we need a group, and whether you like it or not, I've picked this one."

"So I get no say at all."

"I'm doing this for us, Murphy, for you. T'help keep us both safe. How can you not see that?"

Tensions ran high for what felt like weeks after that. It was deep, and no one spoke about it, but it hung heavy in the air, similar to the weight that Connor carried with him like a bad omen. Despite his knowing better, knowing that he couldn't have done anything different, the feeling of being responsible, of not having done enough left him with only a few hours of sleep as the reprieve from the troubled hours of daylight. They hadn't discussed the possibility of joining the group further, though Connor wasn't sure that would even be a feasible option anymore. Rick would be a mess for a long time – or at least, he couldn't blame him if he was. And while Murphy was still alive, they'd had enough close calls to make even the thought of losing someone that close to him unimaginable.

Murphy quickly noticed the change in his brother, and while they'd talked about what was on his mind, he never knew what he could say to make much of a difference. He didn't like talking about his own feelings, so when it came to other people's most of the time he was grasping at straws, trying to be helpful or comforting but usually sounding like a total moron. He let Connor get out whatever he wanted to say and didn't push him to say anymore. That was just how they worked.

Two days had passed since the incident with Lori, and their presence amongst the group had only become more of a black cloud, though Murphy couldn't feel too terrible; they were here first, it was that lot who were intruding. And yet, they were the ones being put in second place. Fuck it – Connor could do the empathising for the both of them, Murphy had no time for it. Perhaps if it had been any other situation, if the world hadn't gone to shit, he'd be more understanding. But this wasn't a world that could be understood, let alone the people who had been left behind in it. Sure, he felt bad for them – they had kids. They'd obviously been through a lot of shit on the road, back at the farm or wherever it was. But that wasn't Murphy's problem. Everyone had seen and done things they wished they hadn't, these people weren't special or different. His responsibilities now had narrowed down to keeping himself and his brother alive, and making sure they weren't forced out of the one place where they had guaranteed food and shelter for the time being. And while he could see how having that responsibility multiplied by nine or ten would take its toll, still, not his problem. If Connor could hear these thoughts he'd have the sense knocked out of him, easily. But this wasn't a world that had much room for sentiment.

It was early when he'd decided to go for a wander – early enough that no one else was awake yet, and the sun had only just begun to rise. But he couldn't sleep, and he was fidgety and restless, and although that usually didn't stop him from tossing and turning and pissing off his brother, this morning he felt like he needed to be outside, to move and get the blood flowing.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bunk he cracked his neck to the side, going for his gun when he noticed Connor was looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.

"Goin' somewhere?" He whispered, voice hoarse.

"Aye – thought I'd break outta here, go find a hotel." He replied in kind, happy to see Connor smirk at his answer.

"Jus' goin' out for a bit…couldn't sleep. Wanna come?"

Connor just shook his head, gesturing lazily to one of the weapons on the side.

"Take mine – s'got more rounds in it."

"I'm goin' into the yard, not war."

"Jus' take the fuckin' gun, Murph', Jesus."

This answer had a bit more snap to it, so Murphy took it with a pinch of salt as he did as his brother requested, shooting him a smirk as Connor turned over, going back to sleep.

Outside it was strangely cold – a refreshing change to the stinking hot daylight hours, yet he couldn't keep from shivering a little as he acclimatised. Christ, he could go for a cigarette right now. It'd been so long since either of them had had one – man, he remembered how badly they'd both craved smokes when they'd first taken the cell block for themselves. They'd both been catty as fuck towards one another if their conversation turned into one of their many petty arguments. And occasionally, if one was woken up early enough, a little of that short-fused impatience still shone through.

The yard looked so big now, now that it wasn't filled with inmates or walkers. Now that it was just Murphy wandering across it, arms being stretched above his head and lungs filling with fresh, chilled air. The sky was just a vast tundra of misery and grey, the landscape beneath it drenched in death and stagnation. It felt as though the prison was the only place still harbouring life and that the rest of the world had just…ceased.

It was then that Murphy stopped, something Connor had told him and something that Rick had brought to his attention as well. The gate towards the back of the blocks, the one that had always been locked had somehow been opened the day before last, the gate that had let the horde through. Looking from the fence toward the direction of the gate, Murphy made his way over, taking the safety off of his weapon as he went. It was completely quiet, almost perfect silence save for the heavy footfalls from his boots. No groans from the undead, not even a bird in the tree's around them. Presumably the chirping bastards took the hint long ago and fucked off to Europe or wherever. There had to be somewhere in the world that was still untouched by whatever the hell this virus was, this infection…then again, compared to the rest of the group, Connor and Murphy knew so little that even that small hope was more than likely naïve. It had only been when Rick had told them that there was no army or government that they'd had to re-evaluate their entire plan. Not that they really had one at all.

He didn't find any walkers – piles of bodies, yes, but nothing up and moving. Though when he got closer to the chain link, the first thing he noticed was the chain and padlock was no longer attached. Sitting on the ground a few inches in on the other side, it was obvious as Murphy crouched down to pick it up and examine it that it had been tampered with on purpose – severed with cutters, or something like it. He was no detective, and to be honest he wasn't sure what else he should have been looking for, but it was pretty obvious that it had been done by someone in an attempt to whittle down the numbers in this particular cell block. He knew it wasn't him, he knew it wasn't Connor, and while he didn't like most of them, Murphy could tell none of the group were responsible either. That left other, remaining inmates, and while that was a rather obvious solution to reach, it didn't set him at ease any better.

The best laid plans of twins and men

He heard one of the doors to the cell block open, but didn't look round or respond to the person approaching him until they were a few feet away.

"Find your hotel alright?"

Pushing himself up, Murphy waved the broken chain to the side as he turned to face his brother.

"Aye – wasn't as fancy as this place though, so I figured I'd come back…You look like shit"

"Look better than you on a good day."

Giving him half a smirk, he chucked the padlock and chain to him. "Thought you were sleepin'"

"Nah…wasn't sleepin' well last night, no point in stayin' in bed. What's this for..?"

"S'what was keepin' that locked." Murphy gestured to the gate as he spoke, Connor following where he was pointing, and frowning a moment later.

"What's your point..? It's broken, needs fixin'?"

"No, look at it – s'been cut, on purpose. Someone broke it, opened the gate, let the infected from the other block in. Tha's where they all came from the other day."

As the pieces clicked into place, Connor looked from Murphy to the lock in his hand, glancing up once or twice towards the fencing a few feet away. After a pause he nodded to the side, silently telling Murphy to walk with him.

"You know it's either one of them or some other prisoners"

"Aye…s'what I thought."

"Should we tell 'em?"

"Rick already knows – well, more or less. He thought it was me who opened it when everythin' was goin' to shit, so he knows it's been fucked with anyway. But you know, Conn' – they're not gonna believe it wasn't one of us."

Connor just let out a long, lingering breath, passing the chain to his left hand as he attempted to rub the sleep from his eyes with the other, although the nights of not sleeping were beginning to take their toll. He couldn't think clearly, and this new situation wasn't helping that any. As much as he hated to entertain the thought, they both needed to start planning for the possibility that they may have to leave the prison; that wasn't what either wanted, but taking recent events into account, Connor couldn't see the group being any more willing to help them then they had before. They weren't well liked, and now with their leader in mourning, their end of the deal had been pushed to the backburner. He knew Hershel was a good man, and while he held some weight with Rick, Connor didn't put much faith in his ability to talk Rick into holding up his end of the deal.

Evidently he'd been zoning out into his own thoughts, because a moment later, Murphy was whacking him half-heartedly on the arm with the back of his hand.

"Connor!"

"What?"

"Don't tell me you're losin' it already? I'm tryin' to talk to you"

"Sorry, Murph'…what were y'sayin'?"

"Fuckin' hell – I was sayin' that they're gonna try t'pin this on one of us, or both. An' if they do there's not a lot we can do to change their minds."

"There won't be anythin' we can do. Which means we have two options, if that happens; stay here and wait for them to come round. Or we leave."

As predicted, neither of those choices sat well with Murphy, whose protests rained on fatigued ears. When Connor began to look like he was spacing out again, Murphy abruptly stepped in front of him, forcing him to snap out of it and listen.

"Y'nearly died for that old bastard in there, y'did what you promised – they're gonna fuckin' deliver on their end, there's no debate there"

"It's not that simple and you know it"

"How's it not that fuckin' simple? Sounds pretty damn simple to me, you're makin' it more complicated than it has to be!"

"Fuckin' listen to me, Murphy. They lost people, more than Rick's wife. They're not gonna be in the mood to bend over backwards to make fuckin' inmates happy right now. And now with this aswell?" Thrusting the padlock and chain out, Murphy grabbed it out of his hand defensively, to which Connor just shook his head.

"They've got no reason to trust us, and there's nothin' stoppin' them from using their numbers to their advantage. I get why you're angry, I get it, y'know I do. And I know we've risked a lot, but in case y'haven't noticed the world ain't too fair as of the fuckin' apocalypse happenin'-"

"Oh fuck off, Connor – I don't need you patronisin' me to get your point across"

"We need to be ready to leave." Connor cut in, his tone not leaving room for much more argument. "Either we go of our own accord, they force us out, or they just kill us. No skin off their back either way. If it comes to that and we have to go, I'll make sure we leave with supplies – that I won't negotiate on. But I need y'with me on this, Murph'. I need you onboard, alright?"

And it seemed as though he really was. He looked angry, frustrated, everything Connor was feeling. But he still glanced up at him from the lock in his hands and nodded as Connor landed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry if it feels like I'm bein' patronisin' or whatever you've got your panties in a bunch over, but I need you know you get it, that we're on the same page."

"…Aye, I know. But the road…if they don't give us a car..? Then what? There's nothin' for miles, you know that"

"We'll work somethin' out, we always do. But whatever happens, you know…we'll be alright. That's worst case scenario, but if they really don't see clearin' out a cell block as an option, I'll politely make them give us guns, ammo, food…a car would be good, but I wouldn't get y'hope's up."

"Doubt we'll be that lucky."

As they approached one of the benches Murphy stepped ahead, putting his foot on it and retying his laces as Connor took a seat at the end, resting his head in his hand as a heavy yawned shuddered through him.

"Y'should go back to bed. I wasn't lyin' when I said you look like shit."

"No point…they'll all be wakin' up soon, and I wouldn't be able to regardless. I'm fine, stop worryin'."

"Aye, I'll stop worryin' when you do. Seriously, Connor – can I do anythin'?..Y'wanna talk some more or…?"

"Well, Dr Phil – I'm quite concerned about my prick of a younger brother-"

"Oh, fuck off will you"