Shane laid Murphy down in their tent, trying to convince the younger man that resting now was a good idea and no Connor and Daryl did not need him.

"Ay, but what if Merle needs more blood?" Murphy drowsily asked as he lay his head back down on the thin pillow. The sound of the night around them was soothing as the crickets sangs and there wasn't a walker moan or stench to be had.

Shane scoffed at the thought of helping the elder Dixon any more than they already had. "Merle Dixon can rot in hell as far as I'm concerned."

"Oy, that's no way to treat me brother-in-law's brother." Murphy shifted, glaring at Shane from underneath droopy eyelids. His voice was venomless, but Shane knew that Murph really did care for Merle just because he was an extension of Daryl.

Shaking his head, Shane wondered how it would feel to be so innocent to the horror that was Merle. He figured the young Irishman would figure it out as soon as the beast woke up from whatever medication it was that Hershel had given him. "You don't know the asshole that is Merle Dixon and the way he treated your 'brother-in-law' as you call him. He treated Daryl like complete shit, constantly calling him names and other shit. When Merle wakes up and finds out about Daryl and Connor, be ready to use your gun." Fluffing up his own pillow, he laid down next to Murphy, adjusting himself on his side so he could look down on the other man, gently brushing the hair from his face.

"Well, Connor is there. He will put him in his place. It will be all right," he relented, the feel of his lover close to him a comfort in his exhaustion. Murphy fidgeted for a moment, settling himself up against the larger man. "Ye don't think Merle would hurt Con, do ye?" he asked quietly, words mumbled into the strong chest.

Shane sat silent. Yeah, he totally thought that Merle would destroy Connor if he even so much as had a fleeting thought in that thick skull of his that Connor "persuaded" Daryl to this lifestyle. But could he say that to Murphy? Hell no. He'd be running up there, gun drawn at the slightest thought of trouble. "Well, like you said, if there is trouble, Connor will put him in his place. And Daryl will stand up to his brother too, I'm sure. They've done a pretty good job of taking care of each other."

"Aye. 'Suppose that's true." Murphy sat silent for a few moments, his mind a continuous wheel of thoughts, none of them pleasant. Between his brother and Merle fighting it out over Daryl and Shane holding a baby in his arms telling Murphy that he can fuck off back to Ireland, he knew that sleep tonight was going to be delayed. "Shane?"

"Hm?"

How the hell do you ask someone if they're thinking about leaving you? Murphy had barely had relationships and certainly not enough of them to worry about one of them leaving. "Nevermind."

"What's wrong, lucky charm? I can feel you thinking. Still worried about Merle?" Shane shifted onto his back, pulling Murphy to lay against his chest. Both men sighed deeply, settling into their new position.

Murphy contemplated asking a different question than he wanted to, something that wouldn't set off a longer and probably deep conversation, but he knew Shane would figure him out. Shane would know immediately that wasn't the intended question and bother him until he came out with it. "Ye goin' to leave me to be a dad to Lori's baby?" There. It was said. Out in the open now. Murphy cringed, waiting for the answer.

"Who told you that? I ain't leavin' you just because Lori is pregnant. And you and I both know she wouldn't let me anywhere near that baby in the first place. You don't need to worry about that nonsense. You been worrying about that since I told you?"

Murphy just nodded, still not entirely convinced.

"Aw, baby, don't. It ain't like that with Lori and I now. Not since before Daryl even found you and Connor." Shane sighed into the darkness, clinging tightly to his lover. "I couldn't leave you if I tried. Rick had wanted to kick out Connor before we came to this place. I knew you'd leave with him and probably Daryl too. I couldn't let y'all go…"

Murphy sat up, looking down at Shane in alarm and anger. "Kick out Con? Why?"

Shane shrugged nonchalantly. "He took his redneck." He couldn't help but snort at that. "But Rick and I had a talk and I know Rick talked with Daryl… Y'all aren't going anywhere as long as the two of us have a say in it. And if it does come down to it…" Shane paused. Would he leave Rick, Lori, Carl, and his baby behind to go be with Murphy? That was a huge decision to make…

"Don't make me ask that question again, baby brother."

Daryl's heart seized in his chest. In the back of his mind, he knew his brother didn't have any weapons on him and couldn't do much real damage before Connor would wake up, but his training from his childhood sprung into action before his logic. His body covered Connor's protectively, waking the other man instantly, as Merle tried to stand up from the bed on woobly legs.

"Ya turned into some kind of faggot boy? Huh? You bending over for men now? What? Couldn't find a pretty pussy? Ain't no one want your ass?"

"Oy!" Connor called out from under him. Daryl's head turned around, hands fumbling trying to get Connor to shush, but to no avail. Covers were flown off as the Irishman made his presence known in this one way fight. "Ye can't talk to him like that. He fockin' saved your life and he's your damned brother!"

"And he's a fucking mick too, Darlena! Boy, wouldn't our daddy be proud. He always did say you were going to turn out-"

Connor only slightly regretted the loss of blood coming from Merle's nose and lip after his punch since it was most likely part of his and Murphy's donation supply, but the crack of bone and thud as his body hit the floor was satisfying.

Heavy footsteps ran down the hallway as the door was flung open to their room. Hershel, Beth, and Patricia all stood there gawking at the trio of men. Connor standing in front of Daryl, flexing his right hand. Daryl stood, looking between Connor and his brother in clear shock. Merle lay on the floor, blood running down his check. Quickly the group picked Merle up and put him back on the bed. Hershel inspected the new wound as he looked between the two eerily silent men. Dabbing at the new wounds he asked, "So want to tell me what happened?"

"He's an asshole," Connor stated simply.

"Told ya," Daryl snorted.

"Ay. We'll have a discussion about this in the morning. 'Til then, I think we should sleep back in our tent."

Hershel nodded, saying that he believed that was a good idea so they wouldn't disturb the whole house again in the event Merle woke up once more.

Connor put the pillows back on the chairs and folded the blanket nicely before walking out of the room, looking back only once to see if Daryl was following. They walked in tired silence until they were clear of the front door. Connor stopped just off the porch, turning to face Daryl. His head was hung low, hands on the strap of his crossbow, but still fidgeting nervously. "I told ya… he ain't… he doesn't…"

Connor sighed dramatically. "No, he doesn't and he ain't."

"So I suppose this is it, huh?" Daryl turned and started walking back towards the tents.

"Oy! Ye can't just say that and walk away from me!" Connor caught his arm, bringing the other man up close to him. Keeping his voice low so no one else would overhear them, he whispered, "No, it's not it. What it is, is time for me and your brother to have a talk. Did he put those stripes on ye?"

Daryl shifted on his feet, head still hung. "Nah. Dad." The side of his thumb found its way into his mouth.

Connor grunted, looking up above them at the stars in the night sky. With all of the electricity in the world pretty much gone, the skies had become more visible and beautiful. He silently prayed, asking for the strength to deal with Merle Dixon and protect Daryl while maintaining the safety of their relationship. He wondered if this had been the old world, would Merle Dixon end up on his and his brother's list from God? "Okay," he said, taking a deep breath. Pulling Daryl into him, he kissed the hunter's lips softly, clearly surprising the other man. "A crazy family is not going to make me love ye any less. Ye clearly never met me Ma. Woman was fockin' batty. Murph and I are bettin' she's still alive 'cause none of those fockers would be brave enough to take a bite."

Daryl snorted, kissing his lover once again. "But Merle's special. Just, let me handle him tomorrow, 'specially since ya knocked him out."

"Least he'll be able to say your boyfriend has a good right hook."

Daryl smirked as they started to make their way back to their tent. Laying down again for the night, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to sleep for fear of being plagued with dreams of Merle coming out of the house and assassinating him and Connor in their sleep. He should have known better than to let Connor stay in the room with him but it had just felt so nice to have him so close. Turning on his side, he wrapped an arm around his lover's midsection, nuzzling into the softness of his shoulder.

Daryl stared into the darkness for hours, feeling Connor breathing softly against him. It wasn't fair for the rest of the group to be submitted to Merle's wrath because of Rick's actions tying him up to the roof and Daryl's being… well… with a guy. An Irish guy. And Connor and Murphy… He knew if Connor and Merle got into a fight, Murphy would join and if Murphy was there, so would be Shane. Holy fuck this would end up ripping the whole camp apart after they had just done so much to keep it all together.

Even with the fucking world ending, life still wasn't fair. Daryl sighed deeply, clinging tighter to Connor than he had to anything in his life. He'd have to leave with Merle. That would be the only way to keep the group together. He'd leave and everyone would be able to go about their lives like they had been. Connor could be with Murphy. Shane could… do whatever the fuck he did before Murphy, though Daryl supposed that was Lori and that wouldn't work out well for him now. Rick would probably say good riddance and be done. The world was better without Dixons anyways.

Burying his nose into Connor's hair, he tried to memorize his scent. Running his fingertips softly over his arm, he tried to memorize how his skin felt under his touch. Daryl had never had regrets about running away before. Part of him hated himself and Connor for making him care enough to actually have it hurt. Connor didn't know what he was getting into having a relationship with him, a Dixon. Dixons were always bad news.

That made it even more of a reason for him to leave with Merle.