Friday, 23rd March 2012: Susan's sitting in her messy room, typing the very last words of her story. She's a sobbing mess, there's kleenex, and chocolate everywhere.
She writes the very last word of her story and stares at her computer screen. So this is it. It's over.

LOOOL. So here it is. The very last chapter. Thank you for all your reviews, lovely comments and most of all: reading. Really. This is the very first story I've managed
to actually finish. This is also the first story I've ever shown to anyone else. I thought people would laugh at me because it's so incredibly long and sometimes
out of character, but what the hell, you were ever so nice to me!

If you liked this story and don't hate me because of the ending then you can also go and read to prequel to that, called Retribution and that's basically Connor's back story
to Salvation, how Murphy died, what happened in Boston, how he ended up in Georgia. AND there will also be a sequel called Damnation that will be following Salvy
and that's Connor in season 3 of the Walking Dead (I kinda ignore my ending here and made up a new one that's also pretty cool)

- I would loooooove you to death if you could post a small review if you like. Doesn't matter if you're just a guest or a ff user, if you want to yell at me for writing such a shitty story and complain your head off (you better not! haha, just kidding), or if you just want to say a couple of nice words...just let me know what you thought of this fic! I live for reviews & feedback!

Anyhoo, Thank you so much y'all. And I'm sorry for breaking your heart.


Chapter 40 - Damnation

Daryl insisted on a decent burial.
He dug the hole himself and yelled at everyone who tried to help or talk to him. He carried Connor's body inside the grave and wiped the sweat off his forehead. For a long while he just stared at this friend. There he was, lying in some dirty hole. By some lake in the middle of nowhere. The place was quite beautiful and peaceful but it didn't really matter. Because Daryl felt like he was dead inside. Numb.

It took him a while to grab the sticks he'd remodeled into some sort of shovel. He lifted it up but froze again. It was so hard to cover Connor with soil. He didn't want him to go. The others wanted to move on because it was dangerous. They didn't want to rush him but they asked him to finish it nevertheless. Because they didn't have time for proper grieving. Daryl took a deep breath and started digging again. After a couple of minutes Connor's body disappeared underneath a heap of earth. Daryl kept staring at his hand the whole time. The letters were fading because of the sweat. He wiped it off and tried not to smudge the word.


The only thing he had left of him. His last word.

The irony. It meant justice. Was this justice? Because it didn't feel like it. It was the opposite. It wasn't fair.

When the hunter finished digging he put the shovel away and knelt down next to the grave to place the two rosaries and the picture on top of it. For a while he just stared at their smiling faces. For the first time in his life he started praying. Praying for Connor and that he was wherever he wanted to be. He prayed that Connor and Murphy MacManus were together again. Then he started praying for himself. Because he was all on his own again. Alone in this godless world. He knew that he hadn't just buried his best friend, but also a big part of himself. His heart. His last bit of humanity. Because Connor had taken it with him.

Daryl took the picture back and put it in his pocket. He needed something to hold on to. Just something.

Because he knew the truth now. The Irishman had told him that he'd been scared of the truth and now he knew why.

What it meant for him.

The truth was that Connor's death was his damnation.

Back in the old days, before the dead started walking, most people had been scared of death. But here it was, the ugly truth. The world as it was now.
Cruel and painful. They just had to keep going. Hoping for the best. Looking for shelter. There wasn't much left.

This is why it's called survival.

They just had to keep fighting until the very end. The end that was even more painful and cruel. He'd seen it himself today.

What a fool he'd been. To actually believe that it could last.

To actually believe everything would get better. Because that's what he'd thought when he'd first met Connor. When they'd become friends.

He got up and walked back to the group.

Connor's death had made him understand.

There is no hope. No joy. No happiness.

Life meant damnation. Only death meant salvation.

The end.