And shepherds we shall be

He was alone in the middle of the old crossroad when they found him. Sitting. Still. Looking for all the world like he might be a statue.

Joe was the one to approach him, saying "Well lookit here" to get his attention while the rest of the group formed a loose circle around the man. Weapons up and at the ready, of course. The man didn't react to the words or action of the others and Joe stepped forward, leaning down with one hand out. That was when the guy moved.

He threw a good right hook, catching Joe in the nose and knocking him down. Then he was up on his feet, crossbow raised and aimed squarely at Joe's head.

"Dammit hold up!" Joe snapped. He was talking to both his people and the new guy.

Len grinned, eyeing the man's back, "I'm claiming the vest. I like 'em wings."

"Fuck you," Murphy snapped. "You don't get ta claim nothin' 'less he's dead."

Joe nodded, "That's right, Len. You know the rules." He took his time standing up, checking his nose first. His fingers were bloody when he pulled them away and it had him smiling. Joe started talking to him. The man maintained a wary stance for several tense minutes before Joe offered his name.

A moment after, the man offered his softly, "Daryl."

The group as a whole lowered their weapons and Connor swatted his brother in the side, grinning at him as Irish tumbled from his lips, "[I like him.]"

"[What? Already? I know there's slim pickings in the zombie apocalypse, brother, but you got to learn to keep it in your pants,]" Murphy laughed back, ducking another, much harder, swing.

Connor holstered his baretta, shrugging as he got serious again, "[You saw the way he was holding himself. Didn't take his eyes or bow off Joe until he got a name out of him. He's got manners.]"

"Aye, he does. Like that m'self," Murphy agreed and switched back to English, grinning at the others who were not really used to them talking in random foreign languages yet. The group was already starting to move again, following the tracks. Murphy and Connor shared a look before jogging over to walk on either side of their newest travel compainion.

"Hello there," Connor waved while Daryl eyed him from under wary eyes, head down just enough to leave most of his face in shadow. "Name's Connor. And that fellow over there is me brother, Murphy."

"I'm the pretty one," Murphy offered.

"Aye, he is," Connor agreed with a grin. "But that just means I got all the brains."

Murphy protested with a slap to the back of his brother's head as he stepped around behind Daryl and the two devolved into a quick, but fairly brutal match. Which Connor won. Neither of them caught the small smile that ghosted briefly at Daryl's lips when he glanced back to make sure they weren't going to kill each other.

For thee my lord for thee

Connor and Murphy took turns sleeping. They didn't really trust the men they were with, no matter what rules they kept spouting. They'd only joined the group a couple days before they ran into Daryl. Stuck with them because there was safety in numbers and truthfully, they'd needed that safety. They didn't exactly know the area.

Eunice had managed to get them transferred to a slightly less secure prison after two years of good behavior at the Hoag. Well, people Eunice knew, technically. But she was the one that funded it. She was good about writing to Connor. Particularly about 'art'. Unfortunately things went bad pretty quickly after that and the last strings she'd been able to pull before communication was lost entirely, was to have a couple of friendly guards get them out of the hole during an early evacuation. The guards had actually stayed with them, for a few months. But time and fatigue and several run-ins with zombies whittled that group down to just the brothers. They needed the security the group provided, however thin that security was.

Murphy was the one awake and on watch when Daryl rose. The sun hadn't come up yet, but the guy rolled himself off the ground and under the camp's barbed wire alarm lines like he did it every morning. Didn't make a sound, didn't disturb the cans. Just slipped on out. Murphy had to admire that. It was a kind of quiet and stealth he and Connor had to learn the hard way. Leaves made too much noise under their boots. But that man? Daryl? He was like a ghost.

The rest of the camp, Connor included, rose hours later when the cans started banging together from a Walker stumbling into the barbed wire and getting caught on it. There wasn't any worry from anyone about it. A little grumbling, maybe, but no real worry.

One of the others, 'Scruffy' as the brothers had nick-named him, muttered an "I got it" and quickly took it out. Then pissed on it.

Connor took his sweet time yawning and stretching and scratching at himself while exchanging a long look with Murphy. The two's quiet feedback was interrupted when Len snorted and started yapping, "Looks like that Robin Hood cat cut out on us after all. I didn't think he had the sack to go out on his own."

"He didn't," Murphy said, pointing to Daryl's things. He'd moved them closer to his and his brother's things after the man lit out of there just to make sure they didn't get lost in the morning shuffle. "He left a couple hours ago while you were getting your beauty sleep."

"Not that it did you any good," Connor piped up. "Still as ugly as you were yesterday."

"More, I'd say."

Len gave them a glare and headed off into the woods. It didn't escape Murphy's notice that the man headed off in the same direction Daryl did. He felt better about having touched what wasn't his after that. Len wasn't a good man. Daryl, though... Murphy felt confident he was a good man. Though if pressed, he wouldn't have been able to say why.

Power hath descended forth from thy hand

Daryl was clearly getting ready to take an old car as his sleeping spot for the night, had pulled the cover off it and everything, when Billy came up and said "Claimed". He kicked Daryl's bag away from the front tire for good measure. Dan called out 'claimed' for the old mattress that lay off in one corner. Len waited until Daryl was heading toward a pickup truck to toss his bag in and pointedly call out his own 'claimed'. As if taunting Daryl with it.

The brothers had already claimed their own car, doing so as soon as they heard Billy call out. Connor slapped Murphy on the shoulder lightly as Daryl started to lay down on the concrete floor. They shared a look and Murphy spoke up, "Hey. Redneck. Daryl. You can sleep over here if you want. Me brother an' me, we'll be sharin' the back seat anyway. Front's all yours."

The rest of the group were giving them the stink eye immediately. Sharing isn't want they did. They claimed. But even Joe couldn't speak out against it. If the brothers wanted to share what they'd claimed, that was their choice.

Daryl caught the looks and understood that the brothers had just done something differently than what was expected of those who claimed. The two shared with each other. That was normal enough. Package deal and all. But it was just each other. No one else. Until now, apparently.

It didn't take him long to decide to stand up and join the two. Front seat would be more comfortable than concrete. And much as the brothers were noisy, he didn't think they were bad people.

Len wasn't having it, though. He didn't want Daryl getting comfortable. He made a bit of scene, going through his bag in the back of the truck and cursing a couple times, ending with a loud, "Christ!"

"Hey! Don't take the Lord's name in vain," Connor barked at him as he started over to their car, eyes on Daryl. The brothers slid off the trunk where they'd been sitting and Daryl stopped in his tracks to stare the man down.

Len didn't make to hit him, though. He stopped a couple feet away and demanded loud enough for the whole group to hear him, "Give it here."

"Why don't you step back," Daryl retorted, chin rising and his free hand waving the asshole off.

"My half was in the bag. Now it's gone," Len bit out. "Now ain't nobody around here interested in half a damn cottontail 'cept you. Ain't that right?"

Daryl jeered, "you the only one still thinking about that crap," at the same time Murphy put himself between them, "Oh shut it. He didn't steal nothin' from you. Can't steal what you give willingly."

"What are you yammering about?" Len turned to Murphy as Connor came up next to his brother. The two were now blocking Daryl from being easy access to the rest of the Claimers. All of whom had gathered around to listen and do what they agreed to if there was rule breaking involved.

"You put it in his bag," Connor answered for the two of them. "Saw you do it when he went out to take a piss. Or did ya forget?"

"I didn't forget nothing! And I didn't give him nothing, either!"

Joe stepped in, then, looking to Len with eyes that were very unkind, "Whoa whoa whoa. Now... You're saying you think Daryl stole your rabbit half and these boys are saying you gave it to him while he was out. Either they're lying... or you are. Not for giving him the rabbit, o' course. But for saying you didn't."

"I ain't lying," Len met Joe's eyes before looking at the brothers and then to Daryl, "They is."

Joe nodded, turned to face the brothers as he gave a look to the rest of the group, "Well then..." With Len's guard dropped as it was, the sudden punch Joe gave him sent him to the floor. He rubbed his fist as the others closed in, "Teach him a lesson, gents. He's a lying sack of shit. I'm sick of it. Teach him all the way."

Daryl eyed Joe from behind the brothers and Joe squinted between him and Murphy for a second before shaking his head. Like he was clearing the cobwebs out. Then he licked his lips and shrugged as he walked off, "I saw him do it, too."

The brothers rolled their eyes and turned around to a wary Daryl. He was standing in place but not standing still. His gaze flicked between them and the retreating back of Joe. But they were the ones that had been the friendliest, seemed willing to help. So they were the ones he asked, "Why didn't you try to stop him?"

Connor looked to Murphy and Murphy looked to Connor before they answered in unison, "Didn't know we should."

That got a snort out of Daryl and a shake of his head before he opened the front passenger door and tossed his bag in. He hesitated before climbing inside. Just long enough to glance up at them and say a soft 'thanks.'

Len continued to be beaten well into the night.

That our feet may swiftly carry out thy command

Daryl woke up to the sound of the building door being pulled open. He was groggy and a little cold. And when he looked around, he found the brothers staring down at him intently from the back seat.

"Mornin'" Connor grinned as Murphy waved.

"Me brother, he thinks you look like me," Murphy said, getting right to the point. The two hadn't noticed the resemblance until after Daryl was asleep and his face relaxed. He was so tightly wound and alert when he was up and about, it wasn't until he'd basically passed out from exhaustion that his body finally found a momentary peace. Just long enough for the two to get a really good look.

"Aye," Connor was nodding now as Daryl stared, stuck somewhere between needing to get up and not sure if he wanted dignify the statement with a response. The two took his silence as an invitation, though, and Conner went on, pointing at his brother's mouth. "Ya even got the damn beauty mark over ye lip." Murphy put his finger on his 'beauty mark' just so Daryl knew what they were talking about.

"It's uncanny is what it is," Murphy finished the thought and dropped his hand to pull out a cigarette. He lit it quickly, took a puff, and passed it to his brother. "I already got me a twin brother. I don't know if I like the idea of havin' a doppleganger, too."

"Maybe they cloned ya in prison, brother," Connor suggested and got a playful cuff to the back of his head in return. "What? They could of. See it in the movies all the time. Well... used to anyway."

Daryl didn't quite tense up at the prison mention, but he did start to slowly pull himself out of the car. The brothers took the hint well enough and opened up their own doors to step out. They were already ready to get going. They'd been waiting on him.

Daryl was next to last out of the building. The brothers following up on his heels and pulling the door shut behind them. When they turned to follow the rest, they were a little surprised to see Daryl still there. Just standing at the edge of the landing and looking down. They joined him, standing a little further down, and leaned against the rail. Once more waiting for him, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

On the ground below them lay Len's body. Beaten. Bloody. One of his own arrows through is eye.

"Not going to say the man didn't deserve it, but not for that," Connor winced and shook his head.

Daryl glanced their way before looking around the landing. He was just a little frantic about it, as if he was unsure of how to handle this. When he spotted the dropcloth, he set his things down to pick it up. He was halfway through shaking it out when he stopped.

Murphy was the one to reach out and take one end of it when he realized Daryl was about to just drop the thing. It didn't sit well with him for the man to stop half-way through giving the dead bastard a proper burial shroud. With their similarities, it was almost like watching himself give in to a loss of faith. And he couldn't have that.

Connor slipped under the rail and to the ground. He folded Len's arms over his chest and gave a quick prayer, crossing himself. Daryl broke out of whatever funk had stalled him and knelt down so his end of the makeshift shroud was as close to the ground as possible. Murphy followed suit. When the cloth fell, Connor was the one to straighten it out and tuck it in properly. Securely. They couldn't give him a burial or even the fee for the ferryman, but they could at least make sure he was covered for what little funeral he had.

Daryl didn't speak when they were done. He just picked up his things and headed after the others. The brothers did the same.

Joe watched them, chewing at his lip. The twins he knew were religious freaks. They'd made that clear within minutes of joining. 'A sign from God' and all that bullshit. But he hadn't pegged Daryl as the sort. It mostly caused him to shake his head and sigh. He had nothing against God. He just didn't think it was worth the effort to head those rules anymore.

Later on, Joe had more of a reason to be both frustrated and pleased with the inroads the brothers were making with Daryl. Pleased because Daryl finally seemed to get the rules as he called out 'claimed' for a bunch of radishes growing along side the road that Tony had obviously spotted first, but had failed to claim. Frustrated because the first thing Daryl did after grabbing them was offer to share them with the brothers. After a minute of chewing on it in his head, he decided Daryl was probably just paying the two back for the shared bed space the night before. Daryl had struck him as a man who didn't like owning anyone anything.

We shall flow a river forth to thee

"Joe!" Daryl came around the truck with the twins flanking him. They're in a perfect position to see the two on the ground - one man, one woman – stare at Daryl like they'd seen a ghost. "Hold up."

"You're stopping me on eight, Daryl," Joe sighed, giving him a pointed look. Like Daryl had just stolen his candy.

Their new friend moved forward, putting himself between two of the Claimers (Harley and Billy it looked like at a glance) and the people on the ground. He nodded at Joe and spoke softly, "Just hold up."

"This is the guy who killed Lou, so we got nothing to talk about," Scruffy (Harley) bit out, annoyed at the delay.

But Joe shook his head, "The thing about nowadays is we got nothin' but time. Say your peace Daryl."

Daryl met his eyes, voice still low, "These people. You're gonna let 'em go. These are good people."

"Now I think Lou would disagree with you on that," Joe said in a slow drawl, his gun pressing a little harder into the man's forehead. "I'll of course have to speak for him and all, cause your friend here strangled him in a bathroom."

Connor and Murphy moved to flank Harley and Billy, sharing a look over the other two men as they held their guns at the ready. They knew what had happened to Lou from what Joe and the others had said. But they liked Daryl. Daryl was a good man.

"You want blood. I get it." Daryl breathed out and dropped his bag, his crossbow, to the side. His brought his arms up in offering, "Take it from me, man. Come on."

The look Joe gave Daryl told the twins all the needed to know. Before Joe said a word.

"This man killed our friend. You say he's good people," Joe's hand tightened on the man's shoulder and he glared at Daryl like he'd just been punched in the gut, "See that right there... is a lie."

Everyone knew what was coming then.

"It's a lie!"

Daryl didn't have a chance to get a word out as the Harley and Billy closed in on him, knocking him to the side and then to the ground with the butts of their rifles.

"Teach him fellas. Teach him all the way."

Murphy looked to Connor and Connor to Murphy. They didn't for one second believe they couldn't handle winning a fist fight between the three of them and the others. But there was a woman being held at gunpoint. Getting into the middle of it while she was still being threatened for the man's crime could put her in more danger than their code allowed.

And teeming with souls shall it ever be

They stood there, indecisive, until Dan opened the passenger door of the the van and pulled someone out of it.

The man Joe had a hold of tried to rise, voice desperate, "You leave him be." But Joe forced him to his knees again.

It wasn't Dan's knife to the kid's neck that made the twins act, though. It was how he leaned in and licked the kid's ear. Licked it. Like he wanted to have sex with it and whoever owned it.

The brothers had both their guns up and aimed at the the others, pulling the safeties back in unison, before things could go any further. The combined sound was loud enough to draw all attention their way. Joe and Tony looked over to see Murphy with his guns aimed for them. Dan had one of Connor's trained on his head while the other was in the general direction of the group kicking Daryl where he lay on the ground.

"Let them go." They said it at the same time, in the same tone, their voices one with their decision. The man they'd tracked might still be worth killing, but the would-be child molester was more their concern.

None of the others moved, save Harley and Billy, who held a struggling Daryl to the ground. Joe's gun remained where it was as he leveled an annoyed glare at the twins, "What are you two fellas doing? You know the rules. We have to make him pay for what he did to Lou."

"There weren't no mention of rapin' a child," Connor bit out and Murphy followed immediately with, "That kind of evil has no place in the world."

Joe sighed and his shoulders dropped almost theatrically, "We have to square up somehow. We make him suffer the way we suffered. Or as near as we can."

"[On three?]" Murphy asked quickly in Irish, no longer willing to keep talking to Joe.'

His brother answered with a nod and an 'Aye' as the two lowered their guns, taking a deep breath.

Joe smiled, thinking for a moment they'd seen things his way. He opened his mouth to thank them and -

"Three!" The twins shouted at the same time, guns raising back up as four quick shots were made.

Joe was hit in the right shoulder, his hand spasming from the impact and knocking him backward. It gave the captive man the opening he needed to scramble away and grab the dropped pistol. Tony was hit in the left shoulder so he was thrown back in the same way as Joe, giving the woman room to dive for her sword. Harley and Billy were shot through the chest. Possibly the heart. Connor didn't really care. They would die soon enough and they weren't the one who was going to be put on his knees.

Dan didn't get shot. The angle wasn't good for either of the twins and they didn't want to hit the boy. The knife to the kid's throat was all that kept him from being killed by the man and woman, as well.

Murphy and Connor moved forward as one, stepping between the man and woman to incapacitate Joe and Tony. They were allowed to live for the moment. They just wouldn't be able to do anything.

"Hey, make sure they don't crawl off, will ya?" Connor asked the woman as he and Murphy made their way to Dan. The man was already as close as he dared to be, gun up. Dan, of course, was using the kid as an effective shield.

"I wasn't gonna do nothing," the bastard tried lying as he stood and dragged the kid up with him. "Let me go and I won't hurt him."

The man's gun raised with the twins' and Daryl joined them with his crossbow. He didn't say anything, but his eyes kept going to the man, like he was waiting for orders.

The twins registered this, but they didn't process it right away. They had other business to deal with.

"Let him go, and we kill you last."

"Do it right quick, too."

"Just a couple bullets to the back of the head."

"We'll send you ta whatever God you want."

"We're nice like that."

In Nomine Patris

"No," the man spoke up, voice tight and arm shaking. "He doesn't get off that easy."

Connor looked away from Dan, to his brother. Murphy was already looking at him. He shook his head and Connor rolled his eyes. Then he said, "Let us do this for ya. When he lets your kid go, he's gonna need you. And you'll need him."

Murphy nodded next to him, "We'll make sure to do it right. We've done it before."

There was silence for a long time before Daryl's voice broke it with a quiet, pleading, "Rick." The man sucked in a ragged breath and broke eye contact with Dan, looking too Daryl. Daryl had dropped his crossbow and was holding one hand up, "Let them do it."

Whatever passed between the two seemed to break something in Rick and he stepped backward, gun down, watching the twins and Dan and his son.

"Now," Murphy addressed Dan. "Let him go and you die last. Nice and quick. You're gonna die no matter what you do. But you don't have to die all in one go. We're giving you that option."

"It's not one many get," Connor finished.

Dan looked like he was seriously thinking about pulling his knife across the kid's throat for a single, terrifying second. But then he dropped the knife and the kid pulled himself away, running straight for his father. His sobs were muffled by his head against Rick's chest, but they still seemed too loud in the still of the night.

"That's good little lamb to the slaughter," Conner grinned and flicked his gun to indicate Dan should stand up. "Move over there. In the middle of the road. Then get on your knees and put your hands behind your back."

As Dan did so, Murphy grinned to Daryl, "Watch him for us, will you? We have a couple of other bastards to take care of first."

Et Fili

The twins had killed Joe and Tony in front of Dan. They let him see a taste of what was in store for him. The ritualized way they pulled their roseries out of their shirts and mumbled a prayer together was probably the creepiest thing anyone watching had seen. Counting the dead coming back to life and trying to eat faces. It was disturbing and made several stomachs twist at the sick irony of it.

They didn't stop at the prayers, though. After executing Joe and Tony with a single shot each – under the chin so it passed through the brain – they laid their bodies out and crossed their arms over their chests. Billy and Harley's bodies were dragged over to join them. Daryl had taken care of the headshots already so the two didn't have to. Another prayer was given. It didn't take long, but it felt like hours.

When the others were cared for, they came for Dan.

Murphy went to stand on his right and Connor on his left. They each set a gun to the back of his head. And then they spoke a prayer together. If it was the same prayer they'd said for the others, no one else could tell. The other prayers had been silent.

Et Spiritus Sancti

The words were the last thing Dan ever heard. He died with the thought that maybe it would have been better if they killed him first.