(Hokay all, this is mis Boondock Saints fanfic. Basic plot is the right hand of God, is sent to earth to watch over our two favorite Boston twins. Problem is the angel kinda falls in love with Murphy which is way against the rules. Gasp! Whats going to happen? Well read on my friends, and you will see. BTW, I kinda have a really bad habit of starting stories and then kinda not finishing them. But I will try my best to stick with it this time. Of course, that depends on some reviews! Eh? Eh? Ok now on with the story.)
As usual, the night sky was a hazy orange, the fine mixture of pollution, a million lights on all day everyday, and of course, the city. Boston, early 90's. You will see no Quincy Market here, nor a close up of the Prudential. This, this is South Boston. There are sirens here, crack dealers and Irish pubs. It is a Friday night and, as usual, there is a fine gathering of drunks staggering about the streets. It's Friday, have a beer, loose a pay check, pick up a girl. Journey to the Irish neighborhood, less crack, more beer. Look past the pub, past the puking college kid (don't worry about him, he's a light weight), and you will see...it. What? What do you mean what the fuck is it, it's a fucking park! This, this...is a special park. No I'm not high, just fucking listen will ya? This is where our story began. Here take a seat, lets have a little chat, you and I...
Brel stood quietly with her eyes closed and listened to the sounds the washed anew into her senses. A car, a dog, people yelling, a car alarm. She took a few deep breaths and shook her head a little. Portals to Earth always fucked her up a little. She shook her head roughly and shook out her hands. She took a few steps forwards, when she felt the earth squish under her shoes. She swore and tried to scrape the dog shit off her boots.
"Every damn time." She muttered and walked away, searching for a pub called "McInties".
A cool and relaxed atmosphere had settled over the smokey bar. The bar acted as a living thing, it's mood shifting from a wild snarling brawl to a quite dead silence. Murphy and Connor MacManus sat perched on two bar stools sipping their evening pint of beer, lost in a waft of cigarette smoke. Murphy took a long pull from his cigarette, then slowly exhaled, peering at the Christmas lights the hung limp and disorganized behind the bar. He was restless; it was a deep unsettling feeling, though small making it easy to ignore it...sometimes. He took another pull and blew a delicate smoke ring toward the twinkle lights. A loud WACK sounded at his elbow, causing him to jump and release a string of curses. Murphy looked down to see a beer next to him, beer slopping over the sides from recent movements. Connor and Rocco laughed at him, hooting then taking long drinks from their beers. Murphy clenched his jaw and rubbed his eyes.
" The fuck?" He snapped. Connor's chuckled turned to a frown, and he swatted at Murphy.
" The fuck's wrong with you? Don't know 'bout you, but I'm fuckin' tired of your shit." Murphy shrugged and looked away sipping his beer. He slammed it down, tossed some wadded up bills on the bar top and stood to leave. Connor quickly recognized his bother's attempt to bail.
" No you fuckin' don't." Connor snapped, snatching his coat and following him out the door. It was lightly snowing out and Connor was quick to put his coat on. He shoved his hands in his pockets and hurried down the street looking for a black peacoat that would match is own. After a few streets he began to despair.
" Where the fuck are you Murph?" He whispered angrily to himself. After a time he slowed and kicked at small piles of snow. He looked out across the river and squinted at the red and green lights that seemed tired and boring now that Christmas was over. Conner suddenly felt nervous, as if he was being watched. He turned quickly and sighed with relief. There was Murphy, leaning against the cold railing staring at the river, an unlit cigarette in his fingers. Connor walked over to him, his angry words he had prepared while he was running through the streets, melted away leaving totally unsure what to say. He leaned against the railing in a similar fashion as his brother. He took out his lighter and lit a cigarette of his own, then lit Murphy's without a word. Murphy didn't say anything, but lifted the cigarette to his lips and took a very long pull.
" So you going to tell me what's fuckin' with you?" He asked, turning to his brother. Murphy didn't move for a moment then sighed and pushed himself away from the railing.
"I don't know what the fuck it is. I've just been feeling so fuckin' weird, ya know? It's just...fuck, I don't know." Connor nodded.
"Does it feel like something's missing?" Connor asked, his voice filled with false sympathy. Murphy didn't notice.
" I don't know...I guess, maybe, oh Christ I don't fuckin' know." Connor nodded, still fighting a grin.
"I think I know what it is." Murphy looked up at him, a look that was suspicion mixed with curiosity.
"Well, if it feels like something's missing, well...I call that a lack of sex." Murphy snarled at his laughing twin and kicked some snow harmlessly at him.
" Fuck you Connor." He snapped, hunching his shoulders against the cold. Connor took one last pull from his cigarette and flicked it into the river.
"Come on Murph. Can you hate me somewhere warmer? Like our apartment?" Murphy didn't look at his twin, but began walking in the general direction of their apartment. Connor frowned and followed, and decided that indeed something was very amiss with his brother. For over a week Murphy, who was usually happy loud and annoying, would have spells of silent brooding that could last for a whole day. Murphy usually was only quite like that when he was sleeping. Connor felt strangled and helpless.