A/N: This is a collaboration between VeritasVamp and myself. She is the Connor to my Murphy. The Veritas to my Aequitas. Fun fact, VeritasVamp and I have been writing and have written over 16 novel length Boondock Saints stories over the last few years. This is the first one we've written that we've shared with the world. Please enjoy our creation. Feel free to leave comments, reviews, and suggestions. Thank you.
Revamped: June 4, 2017. 06/04/2017.
Warning: This story is rated Teen for intense violence.
Summary: (Exodus 20:5) You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the sins of the fathers on his sons.
Angels in Hell
Chapter 1 - Blind and Bound
The MacManus twins, Connor and Murphy, sat at the bar in McGinty's cleaning their guns. Murphy's hands moved deftly over the weapons, making sure they were in immaculate shape for their next use. Connor did the same with his guns. Across from them, behind the bar, Romeo scrubbed, rinsed off, and dried glasses that had been used by customers that evening for Doc while the bar owner swept up the dirty floor.
"So, you guys never told me how you got into the whole Saint business," the Mexican said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence the men had been working in.
Connor glanced sidelong to Murphy, meeting his brother's eyes. He looked back at his own wrists, seeing the scars that were barely visible to those who don't know think to look.
"Well, I s'ppose it started right here in McGinty's a few years back. There was a bar fight that got a little. . . outta control. Couple o' Russians came in ta cause trouble. It was Saint Paddy's! What were they thinkin'?"
Murphy laughed a little at the memory. He could laugh about it now. His voice was light and playful. "Yeah, it really wasn't a fair fight. . . For them. M'crazy brother here decided it was a good idea ta light one o' 'em on fire!"
Connor smirked and winked at his brother. "Well he was bein' a pain in the ass an' I thought I'd return the sensation!" The fairer twin laughed. It was a good show. No one but Murphy knew the guilt Connor felt for what happened after teaching Ivan Chekov that lesson.
Murphy snorted while his hands continued to roam the familiar surface of his gun, long, pale fingers moving quick as lighting. "Then they decided ta repay us. The next mornin', Ivan an' his buddy found our apartment an' broke down the door while we were half asleep."
Connor's eyes wouldn't look up from the gun he was cleaning, the only indication how uncomfortable he was at the recollection. "Ivan, the one I lit on fire, cracked me over the head wit' his gun. I fell. . . an' then he dragged me to the toilet. He made me handcuff m'self to the thing as he held a gun ta the back o' my head. The other guy had Murph on his knees, so I couldn't fight 'em. . ."
Murphy noticed Connor's discomfort, so he took charge of the conversation. "The guy was pissed. Said he planned ta kill Connor but had decided against it. Said he'd decided ta kill me instead."
Romeo's hands stilled on the glass he was drying. It was the last one. He was totally enveloped in the boys' story. "Damn! Bet that didn't go well for them."
Connor raised his eyes, his lips pressed together as he let out a breath. His demeanor had shifted. "No, it didn't. . . They, uh. . . left me there, handcuffed ta the toilet. They took Murph. . . outta the apartment. They were takin' him ta the alley ta... as Ivan said, 'Shoot 'em in the head'. . ." Connor grimaced, lowering his shoulders with a sigh. "So I started pullin' at the handcuffs, tryin' ta break the toilet to get free. . ."
"When they yanked me outta the room away from Connor," Murphy continued, "I could hear 'em screamin' for me. I tried ta fight 'em, but I just got knocked around for that. So there we are, in the alley. M'on my knees lookin' up at the barrel of a gun and what do I see?" Murphy laughed a little at the memory of seeing his brother on the roof. "A flying toilet, my own personal saving grace!"
Romeo gaped at them in disbelief. "A toilet? No way!"
Connor smiled, but a hint of an old rage flickered across his face. His voice was low and serious. "Well, y'see, I got so angry. . . an' scared that they'd kill Murphy. . . So I tore the toilet from the ground an' hauled it up to the roof. I could see Ivan holdin' the gun in m'brother's face an' the other one on look out. Then I dropped the toilet right on Ivan's head."
Romeo just couldn't believe the story he was hearing. It was wild! "So you got the one guy with the toilet. . . What about the other guy?"
Murphy elbowed Connor playfully, trying to lighten his darker mood. "That's the emreally /emcrazy part. Not only does Connor drop a toilet on a guy, but then he decided it was a bright idea to jump off the building ta tackle the other one!"
"Yeah," Connor laughed. "Well, I wanted ta kill 'im, m'self. I had ta beat yah to him, now didn't I? What's a five story building ta a lil' sibling rivalry?"
Murphy smirked, happy his brother was being playful again. "Ahh, I see. An' ya had ta use a toilet an' your thick skull ta do it? Really? emReally/em, Connor? I t'ink you're lyin' ta y'self, Veritas."
"It was proper justice for what they tried ta do, now wasn't it? Aequitas..." Connor smirked.
"I'll have ta remind ya, dear brother. I was the one who killed the second guy after ya passed out cold on the ground! But, sure. I'll give ya that. As long as ya promise me ta not light any more Russians on fire!"
Connor let out a full laugh at that. Murphy was so good at dealing with bad memories. Sometimes he that trait. "Alright, Murph, no more lightin' Russians on fire. I promise." He laughed again, shaking his head.
Romeo shook his head as he resumed his work by putting the dried glasses onto the shelf. "You two are crazy. Completely loco"
Murphy was about to reply back with a few choice Spanish slurs when out of nowhere, gunfire blasted the room. The mirror above the bar shattered into tiny reflective bits onto Romeo, who cried out as a bullet tagged his arm. Reacting quickly, the twins dived over the bar, dragging their friend down under them.
"Doc! Get down!" Connor screamed over the sound of shotgun blasts. He quickly loaded the gun he'd managed to take with him over the bar that now served as cover. He locked eyes with Murphy, who was loading his weapon as well. Connor held up three fingers, signifying that he was going to count down before they made their move.
Connor glanced at Romeo, who was putting pressure on his bleeding wound. "Rome, ya stay down an' ya stay quiet," he commanded over the roar of sound. At the confirming nod of his friend, his gaze turned towards his brother. He began his countdown, removing a finger at a time.
Murphy steeled himself, gripping his gun as the countdown finished and the two stood up, guns aimed towards where the sound of the shots had been coming from. His heart sank to his stomach when he saw that a man had gotten to Doc and was pressing a gun against the old man's neck.
"B-B-Boys, wait..." Doc stuttered, wide, fearful eyes behind thick rimmed glasses going from one twin to the other.
Connor's breath caught in his throat. His hands felt cold, but he held his position. A very short man with cropped hair and dark features had pulled Doc down into a booth. He held the bartender still with both legs around his waist. When he screamed his orders, Connor could make out an Italian accent. "Drop all your weapons NOW! Or I'll kill the old man!"
Connor gripped Murphy's arm with his free hand, dread on his golden features. He realized he knew who this man currently threatening the person he considered to be the closest thing to a father figure besides his own flesh and blood was. Panza. The suspect that Special Agent Bloom had warned them about. Murphy's returned expression showed he also recognized the man. When Connor looked back to Doc, his eyes communicated his sense of guilt.
"I-I-I'm sorry, boys. . ." Doc stuttered out, half due to his condition and half due to fear.
Connor grimaced and his mouth worked in wordless frustration. He blinked rapidly a few uncontrolled times, a twitch that he had carried with him his whole life.
Murphy's icy eyes locked onto Doc's, worried for his elderly friend. The scared expression on the man's face made Murphy want to comfort him. And to kill the one threatening him. Fear and anger swirled in his gut. It was a terrifying concoction. "S'okay Doc. Yah didn't do anything. . . You'll be just fine. . ."
"Shut the hell up and drop your weapons!" the Italian screamed at the two. He pressed his gun even harder against Doc's temple, amplifying the threat. "Now!"
"Connor turned his head slightly toward Murphy. The Saints' eyes met and they agreed without words in that moment to obey for the sake of Doc. Connor looked back to the man holding their friend hostage.
"Alright, take it easy. . . We're droppin' our guns. . ." He dropped his gun to the floor. It hit the hard wood along with Murphy's, making a loud clatter. "Y'alright, Doc?" he asked softly. He tried to stay calm.
Doc nodded his reply, unable to find words in the dire situation. He was worried about antagonizing his captor.
"Don't ya worry, Doc," Murphy tried to ease the old man. "Eveythin' is gonna be just fine. I promise."
"I said shut the hell up! Both of you!" the Italian raged, jabbing the gun at Doc's neck. His hands shook during the confrontation with the two greatest killers in Boston. A dark expression shown in his eyes as he smirked at the twins, trying to assert his dominance. "So. . . brothers. . . we're gonna have us some fun with that. Hands in the air, get on your knees."
Connor took a slow breath and looked at Murphy as he raised his hands. "Réidh, deartháir?" Ready, brother? Connor asked in his native language, Gaelic. He knew it was Murphy's favorite.
Murphy mirrored the action, raising his hands as well as sinking to his knees. "Réidh. Bí láidir". Ready. Be strong.
The fairer twin sank to knees alongside Murphy. Connor nodded his understanding to his brother. His eyes shot to glared back at the man with the gun. "Alright, our we're unarmed. We're on our knees. Now let him go. . ." Connor demanded, trying to keep his fear off his face and the confidence in his voice.
Panza only smiled at Connor's demand. "Boys!" he called out. At his beckoning, two men appeared, carrying rope and other items that didn't bode well for the twins. "Take care of them," Panza directed.
"Connor spotted the rope the approaching men held. He looked at Murphy and swallowed as he understood what was about to happen. Panza wasn't just going to kill them. He was planning on taking them. "Beidh mé ag guí ar do shon, Murph." I'll be praying for you, Murph. . . Connor kept his eyes on Murphy as the men pulled their hands down behind their backs.
Murphy's eyes found his matching pair. He attempted to keep the fear out of them as he held his brother's gaze. He tried to not grimace at the feel of the rough hands yanking at him. "Same anseo. Grá agat, Connor." Same here. Love you, Connor.
Connor's sadness reflected in his eyes like the glass shards on the floor. He took a short breath, "Grá agat, Murphy." Love you, Murphy.
He watched his brother, fighting the urge to break free from the man securing coils of rope around his wrists over his pale scars. The restrains bit into his skin. He winced unintentionally.
"D-D-Don't do this. . . Please! Y-Y-Ya can't take them!" Doc pleaded.
Connor's eyes were still on Murphy, refusing to look away in his concern, half afraid he would disappear if he lost sight of him for an instant, as he tried to calm their friend, " S'okay Doc, don'tcha worry 'bout us."
"We'll be fine. . . just fine," Murphy added as reassuringly as he could. He could feel the harsh fingers wrap around his wrists as his hands were secured behind his back, pinching the skin and wrenching his shoulders together. He swallowed panic at the loss of freedom. Murphy hated, hated, to be restrained. It was his greatest fear beside losing Connor.
Connor grit his teeth as the men began tying his ankles together as well. "Вы не возражаете, если я зажег эти ребята в огне, не так ли?" Yah wouldn't mind if I lit these guys on fire, would yah? He asked cheekily in Russian. He winked at Murphy to try to relieve him and then blinked away fear as the new bonds were roughly tightened.
Murphy winced as he tested the strength of the bonds around his wrists. When they didn't give at all, he silently cursed the situation. "Я бы не возража. I wouldn't mind. He tried to conjure a smile for Connor as the men began to bind his ankles together as well.
Connor let out a small laugh and half-smiled at Murphy. "Well I'll have ta. . ." He was cut off suddenly when when a gag was forced into his mouth. It pulled his head back against the man holding him, making him lose his view of Murphy.
Seeing his brother so helpless terrified Murphy. He moved to go to his aid, calling out his name, trying to pull free of the man behind him. "Conno-!" He was suddenly yanked back into place by a fist full of his hair. Before he could call out again, a gag was forced between his teeth, which only compounded onto his fear.
"Mmphh..." Connor mumbled a sound that resembled his brother's name. His breaths came quicker as his fear escalated. Connor kept his eyes on his twin wishing he could do more to calm him.
Murphy tried to force away the tears building in his eyes as the gravity of the situation began to fall down on him. He refused to cry. He was too stubborn and much too proud. But he was also completely helpless and unable to do a thing to help Connor. He called to him, his words distorted by the gag. "Cnnrrr..."
The sound of his name through the gag in his brother's mouth pulled at Connor's protective instincts. He was snapped out of his fear and confusion as rage hit him. No one touched Murphy like that and lives. He started to struggle, kicking his legs and grunting. Then the Saint heard another voice calling out.
"Stop! L-L-Leave 'em alone! Please!" Doc begged, unable to keep silent at the sight of the twins' wordless communication. He loved these boys like his sons and couldn't stand by and allow them to be taken.
Panza, who was overseeing the event, held onto the old man. "Why must I keep repeating myself? Shut up!" he hissed before knocking Doc out with the butt of his gun in response for his attempt to spare the boys.
Murphy growled, enraged at the sight of his friend's limp and feeble body lying on the floor. He tried to lurch to Doc's side, but was rewarded with a violent punch to the face for his effort. A man kept him from falling by holding him up by his hair. He groaned against the fabric in his mouth and tightened his jaw in pain.
Connor roared non-verbally when Doc dropped to the floor and Murphy was struck in the face. He struggled harder against his restraints, ignoring the pain in his wrists. A punch came from his side and sent him crashing to the floor. Unable to catch himself, Connor's face hit the wood hard. He felt a cut open on his brow and the all too familiar sensation of blood running down the side of his face. Connor's fear-filled eyes found Murphy's again.
Seeing his brother hit the floor, blood pouring from his face, Murphy went into a blinding rage. He snarled at the men as he tried to reach Connor, but he was pulled back roughly by his tied hands as a hood was forced over his head, tearing his fearful eyes away from Connor's matching blue pair.
"Mmpphh!" Connor screamed through his gag as a hood was yanked over his head too. He struggled in a panic, earning a solid kick just below ribs to the exposed organs. "Unnff... Mmpphh!"
Hearing his brother's pained sounds and fearful cries angered Murphy like nothing else ever before. He struggled blindly with his captors, kicking and screaming the whole way as his boots dragged on the ground as they began to yank him out of the bar by his arms. "Cnnrr! Cnnnrr!"
Connor thrashed his bound legs as he was dragged out behind Murphy, unable to sense where his brother was other than by his muffled sounds. Everything hit him at once. The anger. The helplessness. And the fear. A wordless, raging scream erupted from Connor MacManus as he and his twin were taken.
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