Chapter I - Seeds
They hadn't been surprised when they'd been moved. The truth was, the brothers knew it had been just matter of time before their people on the outside did something about their current situation, and the first step had been to get them out of the Massachusetts area.
They had been sad to be separated from Romeo. The Mexican would never take Rocco's place, but they had gotten to know and care about him. He was better off without them, if not at least a lot safer. The first week they were in Hoag they had gotten into three fights, none of them truly started by them, or technically at least. They had been thrown into isolation, much to their chagrin. Murphy had been the one to take it harder than Connor, after practically having spent all of their lives next to each other, not being able to touch his twin every day had been hard.
When the order to transfer them came in, they couldn't have been happier. Away from Boston and a step closer to freedom, if they knew their companions. Georgia had never been a place they'd ever thought of visiting, too humid and sunny for the two Irishmen. But in Georgia they were, and in Georgia they would stay for a long time.
They had been there for less than three months when the world went to hell. Since almost no one knew them there, they had been able to keep to themselves and stay somewhat together. They were not in the same cell, but at least the two of them could spend most of their time together during the day.
When Connor came into cell block A, banging on the bars to wake his brother up, he was seriously freaking out. And that, in itself, had seriously started freaking out a recently awoken Murphy. When Killian, the guard they had somehow befriended over shared stories of their motherland, had rushed them to the cafeteria, together with some dumbass inmates, and told them to wait for him to come back, shit had gotten real.
That had been almost a year ago. A year of surviving in that small enclosed space, of making plans and trying not to murder the bastards they were confined with. They knew Tomas and Andrew would have been victims of the 'saints' in another time, but after the shit Connor had seen, and the reaction those outside had whenever they even thought of getting out of there, they had decided to let them live.
They kept to themselves mostly, Connor trying to calm Murphy half of the time, the younger twin's anxiety getting the better of him sometimes. They prayed, they talked with each other, they waited. They knew something was coming, could feel it in their bones. Axel, Oscar and Big Tiny they tolerated, but more than once they had ended up needing to let off steam, and by letting off steam, they meant beating Tomas and Andrew to a pulp.
"It's your fault," Murphy muttered angrily as he dropped himself into the corner, sneering at the Mexican man as he tucked the only gun the seven of them had in the back of his jumpsuit.
"My fault?" Connor answered, pushing Murphy away as he sat beside him. "It wasn't me who thought it would be a good idea to start yet another fight." He looked sideways as Murphy started biting his thumb. "Stop that," he snapped, slapping his brother's hand away from his mouth.
"Fuck you," Murphy muttered as he slapped his brother back, starting yet another scuffle between them. Connor would give him that. If it meant his brother would feel better, he would get into as many fights as needed.
A few minutes of them rolling on the ground like when they were kids, hitting wherever they were able to reach, passed before they both sat, backs against the wall, shoulder to shoulder again. "Something is going to happen," Murphy muttered, looking at the rest of the inmates warily.
"Feel it too," Connor muttered, trying to make sense of the feeling in the middle of his chest. Something big was coming, soon, and all he could pray for was that his brother would remain safe.
That night, huddled together in their corner, away from everyone else, something woke them up. It hadn't been as strong as it had been back in that cell in Boston, but inside they knew it was going to be just as life changing. Shit was going to happen, and soon.
They woke up the next day on their toes, with some kind of unspent nervous energy beating within them. Connor, as usual, was able to keep it more contained than Murphy, his brother walking around the cafeteria without being able to sit still for more than a minute at a time.
When the doors banged open, it was as though they had been put there for that reason only. While the rest of the inmates ran to hide in the pantry, the brothers immediately went to help the new arrivals secure the doors. They weren't even sure the people had even noticed them, a black man trying to keep the doors closed with them, while the rest of them laid someone on the ground.
"Hold him down! Alright. Only one way to keep him alive!" Connor turned to look over his shoulder as he heard one of them yell. He could see how the old man's leg was bleeding profusely, and how one of them, a dark curly haired man, started to chop his leg off.
"Fuck," he muttered, catching Murphy's eyes as they continued to keep the door closed against whatever the hell was out there.
"Oh, he's bleeding out." Their attention was on the doors, as they continued to listen to the struggle from the people behind them as they tried to save the older man's life.
"Duck!" Their immediate reaction was to lower their heads, both of them, without even knowing who was talking to whom.
"Holy shit."