This is my first crack at any type of fic like this, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated. I'm trying my hardest to keep everyone in character, but y'know, stuff happens. Things.

As for the accents, I'll try and throw them in. I might get the speech wrong, considering I've been taught American English.

Finding the prison had been like finding a gold mine. They could have protection from the danger that roamed the woods that surrounded them, and there was a high chance the place had been abandoned early on, leaving the dream of having enough food and finding medical supplies not too far out of reach. Rick quickly devised a plan and they soon had most of the courtyard taken. The prison was quickly looking like the opposite of what it actually was. The barbed wire meant protection, the bars at the windows symbolized solidarity, and the tight units were now sanctuaries. They decided to spend the night outside, as taking on an underestimated force at night was both reckless and stupid. They would resume and take the nearest cell block come morning.

When the time came, the cell block subtitled 'C' was taken. They cleared it of every undead creature, dragged the bodies out, and assured themselves that there was no way of getting through it without the right keys. There was an awkward sense of peace in the air as the group unpacked their things into the cells they could now call home. It felt wrong in a way, to feel so peaceful. Every now and then the faint sound of animalistic groaning would echo throughout the block and for a few moments everything went silent. The groans would pass and they would continue settling in. Rick and Daryl along with Glenn, T-Dog, and Maggie agreed to go down to check the surrounding corridors for any stray walkers that may have the chance of getting anywhere near their group.

For the first few minutes, it was clear. They had only killed two walkers so far. It wasn't until they reached a division in the corridor that they decided to split up into two groups. Glenn, Maggie and T-Dog would go towards the right, and circle their way back while Rick and Daryl did the same instead going left. They appeared to be alone in the prison block so if either group needed help they would only need to shout once.

The team of Daryl and Rick slowly moved towards the seemingly endless corridor ignoring the revolting odor of decomposing flesh and the scent of rust, that only complemented the scent of the dead. Rick's flashlight was raised with his left hand, his handgun in his right. Daryl had his flashlight in his mouth and his crossbow aimed forward, ready to shoot at anything that moved towards them. The sheriff shown his flashlight in all directions, exposing the dry blood splattered all over the walls. They painted murder. He wondered what had happened in the prison when the virus broke out, and in all prisons for that matter, but for only a split second as he quickly regained focus on the task at hand. Daryl moved his head towards the right, in order to gesture to Rick that there was another division.

"Wha' do we do?" Daryl asked, not removing the flashlight from his mouth.

Rick opened his mouth to reply, but his eyes moved towards the sight of a third beam of light behind Daryl. The redneck turned around and the two moved back a few paces, weapons ready. When a blond man in a pea coat stepped into their line of vision, a flashlight in his hand as well, the two jumped forward. The man stepped in front of the two and eyed Rick curiously.

"Ya find another one, did ye? 'M not too sure about taking more in, ya know what happened with the last ones we found." His accent was thick, though neither of the two men could put an exact location on it at the moment.

"Who are you?" Rick asked finally, taking a firm step forward.

"Where'd ya get that?" The man replied now looking towards Daryl and his crossbow, ignoring Rick's question, " S'very nice, and wait." He frowned, "Listen, I don't care how much ya like the clothes we find on some of them, ye just can't take them, alright?"

"What the fuck are you talkin' 'bout?" Daryl asked finally.

The man looked taken aback by Daryl's response, his shock quickly turning into confusion. He was about to speak when a yell rang throughout the corridor.

"Get the fuck away from me!" The man's eyes widened and he took off running in the opposite direction he had come from. Daryl and Rick took off after him. Another yell rang through their ears, but slightly louder.

"I don't fuckin' know ya!"

"Murph!" the man in front of them yelled at the top of his lungs.

The three soon approached the area where the two groups had agreed to meet. Maggie, Glenn, and T-Dog were attempting to calm another man in a pea coat. His gun was drawn and pointed at Maggie. His hair was dark and he looked a lot like- Daryl. Rick turned to his side to see Daryl standing there beside him, his crossbow pointed towards the two mysterious men who were now wrapped around each other in a tight hug.

"What happened?" Rick asked, looking at his friends.

"I don't know, we saw this guy and we thought he was Daryl but his clothes were all wrong. We tried talking to him and he started yelling." Glenn replied. They all turned to the other two men.

"Are ya alright? Did ya get bit?" the blond checked the other's face.

"I'm alright," the other replied.

"I'm only gonna ask nicely one more time. Who are you?" Rick stepped towards Glenn and Maggie, Daryl following close behind with his crossbow still raised.

"No need for violence. We don't want any trouble. M'name's Connor, and this is m'brother Murphy." The blond one gestured to the dark haired one.

"Rick Grimes. What are you doing here?" Rick continued, his gun was still raised though Daryl seemed to relax a bit.

"We've been here. S'been a couple'o months as far as I can tell." Murphy said.

"Aye. Have you lot been here long? Figured we'da meetcha before." Connor added.

"How many are in your group?" Rick asked, easing the grip on his gun when he saw Murphy look at the floor and Connor's face fall slightly.

"We were six." Murphy muttered.

"They," Connor paused for a split second, "passed. The lord has em' all with him. S'only me and my brother now."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Rick began, "where are you staying?"

"Nice try. How about we all just return to where we came from an' pretend this meetin' never occurred, aye?" Connor stepped back.

"Sounds fair." Rick said, gesturing for the others to get going, "You go back and stay wherever it is you came from and we'll keep searching around here. We need to scope out the area."

"I don't know who you think you are, but this place is ours. We were here first." Murphy said, drawing his gun again. He and Daryl shared a glare, "How about you all get the hell out of here."

"I'm sure we can work something out. We have nowhere to go, my wife is pregnant and my son-" Rick removed his finger from his gun's trigger and held it by its barrel.

"You can stay." Connor said abruptly, "Just be sure to leave us alone. We won't bother you."

"I'll hold you to that." Rick replied, gesturing for his group to go back. The brothers eyed Daryl with caution as the redneck lowered his crossbow and moved to follow the others. When the group was out of sight the brothers shared a look of worry. They had arrived not too long ago, as Murphy had mentioned, and they had found some abandoned prisoners surviving in the cafeteria. They had tried to make some sort of settlement with those men, but despite the fact that the world ended, they had never exactly quit their jobs.

The hours that followed their find were spent in creative interrogation. The twins found out that one of the men had been arrested for armed robbery, the other for gang affiliation, and the third for rape. Needless to say, that man was the last to die.

"Did ya see that one? The one with the crossbow?" Connor asked, his tone light, "He looked just like ya!"

"Aye. I guess we do kinda look alike." Murphy replied absently. He was more worried about the people who had moved into the prison. They seemed like cautious people, and they hadn't shot him nor his brother on the spot, so they couldn't be too bad. They had children, and one of the women was expecting a child. That had been what had moved Connor into being okay with them completely, but Murphy wasn't too sure.

"Ya think we'll be alright? With those people over there now?" He asked, ignoring his brother's other comments about the people they'd just met.

"Of course we will, Murph. And if anything happens, we can handle it." Connor placed a reassuring hand on his twin's shoulder as he lead them back to their place of residence.

The two had been staying in cell block A. They had come from Boston and along with their friends: Smecker, Eunice, Dolly, and Duffy. The six of them, attempted to make their way down to the CDC center in Atlanta, which they successfully did. When they arrived however, the area was crawling with walkers and the place had appeared to have been blown up. They lost Dolly escaping the city. After that their next move was to find another center like it, a hospital, or a high school or something they could take on and settle in for a good while. They had been moving towards what Smecker had said was south when they came upon a gate that surrounded a massive building. The side of the building they could see read 'CELL BLOCK A' not to mention they were already too familiar with prisons. Irony, Smecker had said it was irony. He and Eunice had been trying to get the boys out of prison, and now they were putting them in one.

They lost him next. As they were clearing out the cell block, Smecker's shoulder was bitten. He threw his handgun in Murphy's direction and took down at least four walkers solely with his knife. Duffy was bitten in the midst of their escape into the cell block. It was Eunice who put him down after the infection had fully overtaken him. The twins had never imagined they would see her cry, but they did. The next few days weren't very kind on her either; she spent them alone in a cell. Murphy wanted to try and get her to come out, but Connor had said it would be better to let her cope in her own way. The following morning she had disappeared. Murphy discovered the empty cell when he had gone to see if he could get her to eat something. They searched for her for about two weeks. Connor blamed himself for it all.

The brothers arrived at their cell block and Murphy headed for the corner cell the two had taken refuge in. He stepped in and dumped his guns onto the top bunk while Connor was outside looking through what remained of their food.

"We need ta go back to the kitchen soon, we're almost out of- " Connor paused to look over their makeshift table, "everything."

"Tomorrow. I'm gonna get some sleep. Couldn't get any last night." Murphy replied and Connor nodded.

Inside the cell, Murphy stared at the ceiling. He counted the black spots that decorated the grey concrete and his eyes traced the muck that had formed along the corners where the walls met the ceiling. His mind was blank, and for that he was thankful. His eyes would eventually flutter closed, and for about six seconds he felt like he was floating.

At the sound of his brother's voice his eyes shot open. He sat up in a flash to see his brother standing at the cell door.

"Murph, grab your gun. It's them. We need ta go."