Gunfire rages around the boys. It was an ambush. Look what Connor's 'stupid fucking rope' got them into. "Motherfucker!" Murphy yells, shooting his Beretta rapidly behind him. Just as they were escaping from the piece of work they had completed, the backup had just come. "It's no use, Murph." Connor drops his gun and slows down. "What the fuck are you doing? Let's go!" Murphy takes his brothers arm and tries to drag him with. "Murphy, let me go! We're done for!" Connor yanks his arm back, slowing into a complete stop. Murphy looks around his brother to see the Yakavetta's nearing. "We came into this world together, we are going to out together. But we aren't goin' now." Murphy tries to gain composure. He isn't known to be 'pussy' and cry, but the hopelessness of his brother is triggering emotions he did not even know he possessed. "You know what?" Murphy holds the gun with a tighter grip, preparing himself for what he is about to say. "Fuck you, Con. You want to die? Go the fuck ahead. But I'm saving myself." He sniffles. Connor nods, something Murphy never have expected to see his brother respond so casual to.
Murphy holds his gun up with a stiff arm, index finger on the trigger. The five Yakavetta recruits come stumbling towards him. Murphy knows that he won't be here for long if he doesn't shoot right. He's only got one shot here. Without flinching, he pulls the trigger. It hits the fattest of all the men square in the head. "Con!" Murph yells, hitting one more of the back-ups. He knows that he is out of ammunition after this last bullet. He shoots it, and grazes the body of one of the already dead men. "Connor! Help!" Murphy pleads, but his twin only stands in the background with his arms crossed and gun on the ground. Out of desperateness, Murphy dives for the other gun. He cocks it back while turning back to face the remaining three men. He shoves the gun in the face of one, and shoots. Then the next. The final one holds his gun with a shaky hand, looking Murphy in his eyes. Easily, he raises his gun to the face of this man, and shoots. No bullets. Murphy's heart sank.
He swallows hard. This is it. The Yakavetta man smiles a nervous grin. He knows he will come out on top. "Connor," Murphy quickly turns to see his brother in the same exact position as before, looking to the ground. Then it hits him. "Is that Rambo?" He flashes back for a split second. The knife! Does he have it? He slowly reaches into his back pocket, nothing. Suddenly, he remembers. With the little swiftness he possess, he speedily slides it out of the holster in his belt. Murphy charges at the man, and with full force, lodges it into his chest. He steps back, the stabbed man falling to the ground. Murphy whips around. "What the fuck!?" He yells, pushing the brother back. "I fuckin' made it through, why the fuck couldn't you?" "I didn't think-" Bang.
Connor drops to the ground. Murphy's mouth drops. He holds the knife with a tighter grasp. "Motherfucker!" Murphy calls, running at the single man with a gun. Before
(Phone scene&forgettence)
Murphy walks out the hospital, a few quarters wrestling in his pocket. He fiddles in the hidden pocket of his black coat for the red lighter. He pulls out a single cigarette and the lighter. He holds the cancer stick in his mouth, and flicks the lighter. The red flame comes to life, absorbing the cigarette. He shields the flame from the gusty wind until the cigarette had been completely lit. He drops lighter back in the depths of his pocket, retrieving a quarter in return. He has to call the two people who need to know. Murphy approaches a telephone, and slides the coin in. He dials the number he has known for ages. "Hello?" The female picks up. "Babe." Murphy says, relieved she answered. "Are you okay? Where are you?" Lisa responds. "Somethin's happened."
On the other side of town, Lisa is sitting at the reception desk at a cheap motel. She hates her job, and wishes more than ever to find a new one. But between Murphy and Connor's meat packing job, her job, and the extra money that the twins find during their kills, they are getting by. She twists the phone cord in her fingers. "What? What the fuck is happening?" She asks quietly, her co worker sits next to her, facing the other computer. Murphy switches his weight to his other foot. "It's Connor." "Murphy, stop being so cryptic. What the fuck is going on?" Murphy creates a long pause, taking a drag on his cigarette. "You got'a come 'ere." He says while exhaling the smoke. People bustle past him, some looking while others ignore. "Murph. Where the fuck are you?" Lisa is beginning to become impatient with her boyfriend's vagueness. "The hospital." Murphy says, trying not to let his emotions come back. He knows two things. Connor is alive, and that everything is going to be okay. He can't let himself be such a pussy again over something that isn't going to happen. Connor's living.
"I'll be right down after my shift. Like, 20 minutes." Lisa responds. "Are you okay?" Murphy ponders how to answer this. If he tells the truth he will leave his precious girl in ruins. "M' fine." Murphy drops his cigarette intentionally, stepping on the ashes. "Jus' come 'ere when y'er done with work. I love you." Murphy doesn't wait for a response, he just hangs up. "Love you-" Lisa realizes he hung up. She slams the phone back down on the cradle, holding her head in her hands. The small Asian man spins around in the office chair to face Lisa. "You alright?" He asks. She nods, not looking at him. Why does he care? He doesn't have to know shit.
Murphy reaches back in his pocket for a second quarter. He picks it up and forces it in the slot, then dialing the number of a friend. "Hello?" The man on the other line picks up. "Roc, you got'a help." "Murph! What's goin' on?" "Connor's been in an accident." "Con? Fuck! Can I talk to him?" "He's up in the hospital bed." "Shit, man! Let me get there as soon as possible. Wait for me at the entrance, ok?" Murphy nods, then realizing that Rocco can't see it. "Yeah, man. Alright." "I'll be right fuckin' there." He hangs up. Murphy rests the phone gently on the cradle, heading back inside. He knows it will be a long while before Rocco will arrive.
He looks at the ground as he moves up the the floor where Connor lays. He enters the room, his brother still laying peacefully with his eyes closed. Murphy peeps his head back out the door. The hallways is nearly deserted, but he still closes the door behind him. He walks back over to the bed, kneeling on the ground next to it. "Con, please. A stór," He doesn't care if he sounds 'gay' by saying that. No one is here to judge him. ('A stór' means 'my dear'). "Come ba'. Wake up." He whispers. As if in a movie, Connor's eyes flutter open. "Wh-where am I?" He asks, looking around the room in a daze. Murphy seems to sink deeper into the ground. Relief. He really is alive. He scans the room until he locks a stare with Murphy. "Who are ye?" He asks quietly. Murphy tries to not look appalled. "Con? Are ye fuckin' wit me?" He chuckles, knowing his brother would play a stupid prank like this. Connor continues to repeat the last two questions he asked in a hushed, low voice. "Con-nor." Murphy separates the syllables, as if he was speaking to a challenged person. Connor continues to survey the room. "Where am I..." Murphy places his hands on the sides of his face and forces him to look at him. "Con," He says. "Do ye remember me?" He asks desperately.
A long moment of the two of them staring into each others eyes. Murphy's were filled with pain, the worry that his own twin doesn't remember him and everything that they have gone through is gone like dust in the wind. Connor's were as shiny and new as ever before, like everything has been wiped clean off his slate. The world seems to slow to a halt, as if it was only the two of them there, in the hospital, on earth. "No." Connor murmurs. Murphy's heart descends to the deepest pit of his stomach. "Ye have t'remember me! Don' ya remember me? Do ye?" Murphy becomes hopeless. "M' sorry, I don', Sir." Connor responds. The knees which hold Murphy up seem to weaken and give out. He slides farther to the ground then he already was. "Con, ye have t'remember me." He says quietly. Connor sits up in the hospital bed. "Would ye like to tell me what is happening?" He asks. Murphy glances up at the figure of his twin looking down at him. He feels small and worthless. This all was his fault. He was the one to blame for fucking his brother's life up. Isn't he?
Rocco and Lisa barge through the door. "Murph! The fuck, man! We had to ask the nurse bitch to find you!" Rocco says, approaching the bed. "Why are you on the floor?" He asks. "Connor!" Lisa runs over to hug the man in the bed. She wraps her arms around his torso. "Gentle, lass," He says, patting her back. "M' sorry, but, do I know ye?" Lisa pulls back. "Excuse me? Connor, don't be a fucking idiot." She snaps. He opens his mouth to reply when Murphy's small voice comes into the conversation. "He's serious. He don' even 'member me." Lisa gasps. "You're shittin' me." "Unless Connor is bein' an asshole and playin' a joke, I'm being to'ally serious." "Who's Connor?" Connor asks. "You, man! Do you remember me?" Rocco comes from the doorway to next to the hospital bed, gripping the metal sides. Connor puts on a blank stare, looking at the long haired man. "Stop fuckin' around! You have to remember me!" Rocco says, looking intently at the Irishman sitting in the bed. The covers are messy from his sleep. "M' sorry, Sir. I don' remember you either."
Rocco sits in one of the two chairs in the room. "Murph, get on up off the ground and sit here." He pats the chair. Murphy runs his fingers through his hair, rising off the ground to the chair next to Rocco. "What do you remember?" Lisa asks, sitting on the bottom of Connor's bed. "What do I?" He echos. She nods. "That m' in Boston, in a hospital. I remember I live in a 5th floor apartment, and work at... Damn. Where do I work?" He tries hard to think.
The whole rooms has a dark feeling to it. Murphy feels the unwelcome emotion of depression setting in. What is life if he doesn't have his other half? A subtle knock at the door. The four of them look as the nurse enters. She seems a bit taken aback by the number of people in such a small room.
(After the nurse kicks them out and this is the walking him etc scene)
He stalks down the street with his hands in his pockets. "Murphy," Lisa calls, but he doesn't turn around. He feels so alone. "Hey, Murph," Rocco yells. He still keeps a brisk pace forward. Lisa runs up behind him. "Babe, it's going to be alright." She tries to calm him. "'Alright'?" He echos, looking down at her. "This is the farthest thing away from, 'alright', Lisa. Me own twin don' even fuckin' remember me." Murphy lashes out. "And ye fuckin' think this's alright. Fuckin' ridiculous." "What am I supposed to say? 'Oh, sorry about your brother, wanna get a beer'? Think about that, Murph." "Just," He starts, losing will to talk. "Just leave me be." Lisa wraps her arm on Murphy's. "No." "Lisa, m'serious. Get away." "I'm not going to fucking leave you, for all you know, you'd commit suicide if I left you." She says. He rolls his eyes. That is one trait about Lisa that Murphy wonders if he likes or not. Her persistence. "I'm gonna go and buy a pack of smokes..." Rocco says from behind the couple. The two of them almost forgot he was here. "Thanks 'gain for comin', Roc." Murphy puts on a fake smile to his friend. Rocco awkwardly parts from the now two person group.
"When we get home, leave me alone." Murphy scowls. "No." He stops, placing his hands on her shoulders and turning the girl to face him. "Yes. Go the fuck away, baby." He tries to sound respectful with the impolite words. Lisa takes a step forward. "No." She says. Murphy exhales deeply, running his hands through his hair.
About and hour after they arrived home has past when Murphy lied down on the bed he called his. "Murph," Lisa says, looking up from her writing. She has been working at the table that is littered with beer cans, Murphy had been in front of her. Neither of the two spoke a word. Lisa didn't know what to say. Connor has been a great friend to her, and it kills her to think that he doesn't remember any of the memories that the two shared. Murphy is suffering worse. Intense misery floods his body. He tries to forget it all, opening the can to his sixth beer. It makes him silly, but nothing is enough to butcher the memory. "What." He responds, head stuffed in the pillow. "Can we talk?" She asks innocently. "About?" He flips around so he is laying on his back. "Things." "Tha's not specific enough, lass." She shuts the notebook filled with her messy penmanship, placing the pen on top of the closed journal.
She sits upon Connor's bed, the sheets still messy from his last time here. "I'm worried about you." She says, resting her head in her hands. "I'm fuckin' fine." He turns on his side, still facing his girlfriend, propping his head up. "Yeah, I can tell." Her sarcasm is evident. "Come here." He holds open the covers, gesturing her in.