Age 3:

Murphy looked down at the wriggling infant in Ma's arms. Ma said that the tiny baby was their little sister. She didn't look like much fun if Murphy was honest. She wasn't the length of a cricket bat and all pink and squishy. What fun is a little sister if she couldn't do anything?

"What's she do?" Connor asked, on the same brainwave as Murphy.

"She doesn' 'do' anythin'," Ma said, her voice slightly scolding. "Jus' you wait until she grows up. Then you'll have a sweet little sister. You'll see."

Murphy glanced at his twin, looking at him skeptically. There was no way this little thing of skin would be any fun.

Almost on cue, the little baby girl opened her eyes and started to wail.

No fun at all.

Age 7:

Sarah had just begun to walk. More like stumble around, but she didn't know any better. Connor and Murphy were starting school today, and had spent as much time with her as they could before, and even now, with only a morning to spare, they tried to spend the entire morning in her company.

It had been four years since Sarah was brought home and Ma was right; once she started to smile and laugh, the boys couldn't leave her alone. They wanted to hold her and feed her and make her laugh. At four years of age, Sarah had deep brown eyes and short tufts of curly hair. She loved to laugh and grab everything she could. The twins loved her with all their hearts.

"Patty cake!" she squealed, running towards Connor.

She tripped over a rug and sprawled on the floor. She hopped back up and ran for Connor anyway, hands still out to play patty cake and a bruise forming on her forehead.

"You know," Murphy said, "we got school soon."

"I know," Connor snapped, playing with Sarah anyway.

"You shouldn't be playing with her," Murphy said.

"Are you gonna tell on me?"

"Maybe I will!"

"Boys!" Ma shouted, stopping their argument. "School!"

The three of them ran down to the kitchen, Sarah stuttering on the last step. The boys grabbed their bags and lunches and ran for the door, kissing Ma on the cheek. Sarah followed them outside and was almost to the gate before the twins noticed.

"No, Sarah," Connor pushed her away. "You gotta stay here."

"Wanna go!" Sarah pouted.

"No, stay," Murphy said. "You need to stay."

"No! Won't!" Sarah screwed up her face as her eyes filled with tears. "Wanna go! I go wiff Conn and Murph!"

"No, you stay here," the twins pushed her towards the house again.

She screamed as loud as she could, her face red and eyes bright, and ran back to the house, barreling into Ma's legs.

"Feel awful?" Connor asked.

"Yeah," Murphy said. "Feel horrible."

For four years, they had tried to make their sister the happiest little child they could. Now, because of education, they had to do something they never wanted, which was to make her cry.

Age 15:

Connor swore that Sarah grew up when he and Murphy weren't looking. She got over the separation anxiety, helped out by starting school herself in a few short years. They didn't see each other much, being at different schools during most of the day. While the boys were worried about the changes happening in their bodies, they completely failed to notice the change happening to Sarah. All of the sudden, she had a figure and a nice one at that. If she gave the effort, she would be an absolutely stunning woman.

Part of Connor wanted Sarah to be as beautiful as she could. He wanted his sister to be gorgeous and watch her be as beautiful as she could. But the other part of him, the older brother part, wanted Sarah to be plain and boring. He didn't want her to gather the attention of all the boys in Ireland. Murphy agreed.

"She's way too pretty," Murphy said.

"No shit," Connor watched as Sarah gathered apples. It was mid-autumn and the three of them were gathered in sweaters and scarves gathering apples from the neighbor's yard. "She was bound to be, with us as her brothers."

"Damn straight," Murphy nodded. "It's her hair really. It can' be that fuckin' big or that fuckin' color. It's impossible."

"No shit!" Connor exclaimed.

Sarah turned then, and waved, a basket on her hip. Her hair, once awkward tufts of brown curls, was now waist length and huge. It completely surrounded her, glowing almost, in the weak sunlight.

"Fuckin' impossible."

Age 20:

The last time Murphy felt this angry, he was trying to beat 10 teenage boys for taking a swing at his brother when they were eleven. It wasn't even really a good reason for a fight, seeing as the teenagers were just joking around and wouldn't really hurt him or Connor. It's been nine years since he's felt that kind of anger.

But it was back in full swing, and this time Connor felt the anger too. Some 17 year-old bastard decided to fuck Sarah. Their little sister, not even a woman yet. Murphy was going to tear that boy limb from limb. He paced back and forth in their shared bedroom, muttering curses under his breath.

"Calm down," Connor said, placing a hand on Murphy's arm.

"No, you fuckin' calm down!" Murphy shouted. "That sonuvabitch took our sister! We can' let this go!"

"We're not gonna," Connor said. "Let's just be reasonable."

"To hell with reason!" Murphy exclaimed. "This is about honor! This is about our sister not gettin' some sorta reputation as a town slut!"

Their door slammed open. Sarah stood in the frame, anger in her face and her arms crossed. She tapped her foot and glared at both her brothers.

"My honor?" she guessed, her hair crackling.

"It's not what it sounds like," Murphy said quickly.

"Really?" Sarah took a step forward.

"Listen here, leprechaun," Connor stood up, "it really isn' what it sounds like."

"No, you listen," Sarah growled, "because it sounds like you two are tryin' ta protect my fuckin' 'honor' by beatin' up that poor boy, who I seduced by the way, but hey, I might be fuckin' wrong."

"You seduced him?" the twins gaped at her.

"O' course I did," Sarah brushed it away. "You didn' think I was going to stay a virgin, did ya? Not after you boys got laid. Didn' ya think I was gonna try my hardest to find some poor sap to fuck?"

"How hard did ya try?" Connor asked.

"Not very," Sarah shrugged. "I just thought I should wait it out a bit 'til I was older and more certain."

"Shut up, Connor!" Murphy snapped. "That's not the fuckin' point!"

"I don't see the problem," Sarah said. "You two are overreactin'."

"Are not!"

"Are too," Sarah said, turning around and slamming the door behind her.

As soon as the door shut, the twins looked at each other.

"She seduced him?" Connor hissed.

"O' course she did," Murphy sighed in defeat, falling backwards on his bed. "That's what she gets for bein' so fuckin' beautiful."

"It took us months ta get laid, and she gets it all willy-nilly!"

"This isn' a competition! It's about Sarah and her honor!"

"Oh, shut up."

"You shut up!"

Age 21:

Sarah hummed in her seat. Connor could feel her shivering in anticipation from where their arms were touching. Her hands clenched the armrests until her knuckles were white.

"Now landing in Boston."

"Finally!" Sarah exclaimed. "America!"

They took their first steps in America, duffle bags in hand. Their dreams have finally come true. They were in the good old US of A. Finally.

"We made it," Murphy sighed.

"Yeah, listen," Connor said, "Cousin Patrick got us a loft. Said he'd meet us at a bar called McGinty's and show us around."

"Bit early for a drink though," Murphy commented.

"Then let's have a look around ourselves," Sarah grinned.

"Not so fast, little leprechaun," Connor grabbed her arm.

"I just got outta school and I'm in America with my brothers. Most girls my age would kill ta be here. I am going ta enjoy every minute I can."

"We got $300 ta live off 'til we get a job. Don' start spendin' money we don' got."

"I said ta have a look," Sarah pulled her arm free, "not buy the whole fuckin' city. Why, ya scared?"

"No!"

Sarah grinned widely and Connor knew he'd been beat.

"Fine. Let's have a look around."

Connor hoisted his bag up and led the way into the city.

Age 24:

When Sarah turned 21, she and Rocco went out clubbing, leaving the twins behind in their drafty little flat.

"If this keeps up, Rocco will be Sarah's new favorite person," Murphy threw a can of beer to Connor.

"I think Poppa Joe still wants ta recruit her," Connor cracked open the can. "Rocco made it pretty clear that she was just his type. Pretty and fiery."

"Italian mafia," Murphy laughed. "They're crazy if they think they can get a hold o' Sarah."

"No shit," Connor agreed. "I can' believe they're still up ta that."

"Maybe they won' let her go cuz she's just so damn gorgeous," Murphy suggested.

"They should know better anyway," Connor took a drink. "If anyone dares lay a hand on her we'll kill them."

"Maybe not kill," Murphy shrugged. "Just knock him around a bit."

"No, kill him," Connor countered. "Sarah's tough enough to knock around anyone who gets a bit too friendly."

"Unless she's bitten off more than she can chew," Murphy reminded Connor.

They ended up calling it an early night, worries about Sarah keeping them from having a good time on this rare night alone. They tossed and turned in their bed before falling into an uneasy sleep just after two in the morning with no sign of Sarah or Rocco.

When they woke up the next morning, Sarah was face down in her bed, her hair flying in every direction and snoring loudly. She was in a tank top and her underwear and every bit of exposed skin was covered in mottled bruises.

"What the fuck?!" Connor shouted, waking up both Sarah and Murphy.

"Shut up," Sarah mumbled through her pillow. "Hangover."

"What the fuck did ya do?" Murphy hissed, moving to the bed and flipping Sarah onto her back only to see more bruises.

"Got inta a fight," Sarah whispered, eyes shut against the light of the sun coming through the window. Connor knelt on her other side. Sarah gave a soft grin. "Ya should see the other guys."

"Guys?!" Connor repeated, his voice raising. "You mean that there was more than one?"

"Shush!" Sarah rubbed her temples. "O' course there was more than one. D'ya really think that if I knocked out one guy, his buddies were just gonna stand there?"

"Where the fuck was Rocco?"

"Unconscious. That's why I hit them."

"But you're okay?"

"Other than being sore and hungover and fuckin' interrogated by my brothers, I'm just peachy."

Age 30:

Ireland had been just like it was when they left; rolling green hills and a huge cloud cover. They'd been hiding for three years and despite how close they had been for their entire lives, certain questionable qualities started creeping up.

Connor's protective streak got higher and higher. He was protective already, but now he wouldn't let Sarah or Murphy out of his sight for more than five minutes. He nearly refused to let Sarah learn to ride a horse and she wasn't allowed to look after the seep on her own.

Murphy got angry. His temper was wicked short and he shouted all the time about every little thing. He was punching Connor every chance he got, shouted abuse to Da whenever things got too quiet and wouldn't let Sarah come anywhere near him.

Sarah fell down into silence. She would often wander off on her own, not coming back for a day or two, and freaking Connor to death. Just her, her horse, and a daypack, and the wild plains of Ireland. She stopped talking or giving any emotion.

They were all grieving, all aching, and they were taking it out on each other. They didn't talk about it with each other or with Da. It wasn't in their nature to talk about something as trivial as feelings.

Until Sarah left in the dead of winter and didn't come back for three days. It wasn't uncommon for her to be gone that long, but she was never out in a blizzard. Da, wrapped up as tight as he could, went out to find her.

The twins paced in their little house, wringing their hands and avoiding each other's gaze. Their little sister was lost in a snowstorm for nearly 72 hours. She could be dead for all they knew. And they blamed themselves for it.

"I shouldn' have been so protective," Connor said. "She never liked havin' a leash and I gave her a tight one."

"It was my fault," Murphy said. "I was just yellin' at her all the time. No wonder she left. Tryin' ta get away from me."

"Naw," Connor shook his head. "Face it, brother. We fucked this up big time. If she dies… we got no one but us ta blame."

"She won' die," Murphy said firmly. "She's stronger than that."

Da burst through the door at that moment, Sarah held limp in his arms. Her skin was pale and had a blue tinge. The boys moved into action instantly. Murphy grabbed every blanket they owned and Connor stoked the fire into a blaze.

They set her by the fireplace and stripped off all her clothes. Connor and Murphy stripped down as well and put their arms around Sarah, holding her close, while Da wrapped the three of them up in blankets.

"Lucky I found her," Da said, touching her pale face. "She was in the middle o' nowhere, barely anythin' to block the wind or snow. Her horse kept her alive."

"So she is alive?" Murphy asked.

"Yeah, she's breathin'," Connor pointed out.

"Keep her warm, boys," Da said gently. "I'm gettin' more wood."

They sat like that for a while, Sarah shivering against the boys. Her body was warming up slowly, the blue leaving her lips. The twins curled around her protectively and inched closer to the fire, careful not to ignite the blanket.

"It's our fault," Connor whispered.

"I can' believe she left," Murphy breathed. He reached around to grab Connor's hand and put it over Sarah's chest, feeling her heartbeat. "I can' believe it."

They slid their entwined hands up and gently brushed their hands down Sarah's cold cheek. Their hands were horribly brown against her white skin.

"We are so not tellin' Ma about this," Connor said seriously.

"What about Ma?"

The twins jumped and pulled away, taking the blankets with them. Sarah, deep brown eyes open, shook with the cold and wrapped her frail arms around herself. The twins hurried back to her, cradling her in their arms and pulling the blankets tight around them into a cocoon.

"What the fuck were ya doin'? Connor hissed. "Why would ya even think about goin' out in a storm like that?"

"Needed fresh air," Sarah said, her voice barely a whisper. Whether from the cold or her silence, the boys didn't know.

"Not good enough, leprechaun," Murphy scolded.

"Alright then, fine," Sarah sat up straight and fire blazed in her eyes. "You wanna know why the fuck I left? Because you two wouldn' leave me alone! I always had Connor trailin' me wherever I went, Murphy would go and pick fights with me when all I wanted was ta help him out. Ya really think I was gonna stay?!" Her voice reached a shout.

"I – I – uh…" Connor stuttered.

"I know," Sarah brooded.

"We didn' mean it," Murphy said. "The move was hard on all of us. After Rocco… I mean…"

"Just stop," Sarah said, curling into the blankets. "Stop talkin'. Please."

"No way," Connor tightened his arms around her. "Not talkin' is what started this whole mess anyway."

"Listen, Sar," Murphy said, "we love ya. And ya know we do. Yer our little sister. There is nothin' we wouldn' do fer ya."

"And like I said; piss poor job ya did."

"We're all hurtin' here," Connor said. "All of us are recuperatin' and shit. No reason fer us ta take it out on each other."

"That's been workin' so well."

"Just tell us what's wrong."

"Same thin' that's botherin' ya," Sarah shrugged. "Boston is hauntin' me. I dream about it at night sometimes. The mafia and Rocco and gettin' out of the country. Sometimes I wake up and I'm cryin' or screamin'. But ya never knew."

"It's hittin' ya hard, isn't it?"

"It's hurtin' ya too! Let's face it… Rocco's death is on our hands."

"He wouldn't want ya to beat yerself up over it."

"Nor you."

"Just promise us ya won' leave us again. Murphy and I fucked up, we get it. We all did somethin' wrong here. The only thin' we can do is move on, together. It's been three years, leprechaun. Let's move on."

"Just don' leave us again," Murphy added.

"Don' give me a reason ta."

Da came in a moment later, arms filled with wood. He raised an eyebrow and the three laughed, huddled closer to the fire, skin against skin, the storm howling away outside.

Age 34:

Sarah, seriously upset at being in her thirties, took her brothers out to the tiny town nearby to get slobbering drunk. They could've easily gotten drunk at home, but the twins knew that Sarah loved to be at a party. She loved the singing and the dancing and the brawling too much to settle for a quiet night of drinking at home.

Except this time, Da came along as well.

"Just ta keep an eye on things," he said.

"Just be careful," Murphy warned him. "Sarah gets flirty and fighty when drunk. Don' want that ta sneak up on ya."

"I think I can handle it."

Da was, unfortunately, wrong. Even though Sarah hadn't properly taken care of herself in close to seven years, she was still beautiful and her voice was pitch perfect as always.

She was in the middle of the bar, men and women surrounding her, dancing the night away. She had a beer in her hand and was dancing in such a way that Connor felt dirty watching her. He and Murphy moved to a secluded corner, keeping a careful eye on Sarah. Da came up to them, nursing a bottle of whiskey, and collapsed into a chair.

"She always like this?" he asked.

"She's gotten better actually," Murphy observed. "She's usually got some fella in the alley by this time."

"Usually?!" Da looked shocked.

"Trust us, we tried to get her out of it, but she won' let us."

"She's gonna get a reputation!" Da exclaimed.

"Yeah, we know."

Sarah walked over just then, stumbling only slightly. She was grinning widely and still had her beer in hand.

"Hello," she said.

"Hey, leprechaun," Connor smirked. "Care to sit with us for a bit?"

"Sure," Sarah's grin grew wider and she sat next to Da.

"Ya look like yer havin' fun," Da mentioned casually.

Sarah's grin fell off her face and she turned to glare at Da. The twins hurriedly ducked into their glasses, waiting for the bombshell.

"So ya think so too?" she bit out. "Ya think I'm gonna get a reputation, don't ya?" Just because I'm out havin' a good time. If it was Connor or Murph you'd be praisin' them, congratulatin' them fer landin' some broad, but not me. Is that it? Just because I'm a girl, I can' go land some hot man for the night."

"That's not what I'm sayin'," Da tried.

"I think I'm done here. See ya at home," Sarah dropped her beer and left.

"She's got a bit of a temper," Murphy explained. "Never liked gettin' special attention because she was a woman."

"She's gotten laid more times than the both of us combined," Connor added. "She wants ta prove that she's as tough as any man."

"Is she?"

"You bet your ass she is," Murphy grinned. "Conn and I wouldn' be here without her. She saved our lives a couple o' times."

"And we saved hers," Connor countered. "She may be our little sister, but she's a fucking firework."

Age 36:

They'd been in prison for a whole year now. Despite the many pleads of official looking men, Sarah refused to go to a Women's Correctional Facility. She said she belonged with her brothers and nothing short of God coming from heaven was going to change her mind.

Though many of those official looking men stopped coming around after Sarah got into a brawl during lunchtime with four other men, leaving her with a black eye and bloodied lip, and landing the four men into the infirmary. It didn't really matter since as soon as those men were out of the infirmary, Connor and Murphy beat them near to death, landing them a whole month in solitary confinement.

The reputation of them grew fast among the inmates and the message was clear: don't mess with MacManus siblings. Connor and Sarah shared a cell and Murphy was across the hall, but they did everything together. Lunch, bathroom, outside time, they were always together. The men learned that putting the moves on Sarah meant not just getting her wrath, but the wrath of her brothers as well.

Once a week they attended therapy sessions. It didn't help explain why these three chose to go on their killing spree, but it got them a few friendly faces among the inmates, a few allies during those lunchtime brawls that seemed to always take place when they showed up. And it got them talking to each other when things went wrong. Suddenly, the three of them were having deep conversations about their emotional wellbeing in their secluded corners of the yard.

Romeo was still in his isolated room. He'd made a full recovery, but was still too fragile to be let out among the rest of the prisoners. Sarah, Connor, and Murphy still visited him every single day. They mourned their father and Greenly, of course, and prayed every night for their souls in heaven. They prayed for Ma in Ireland and for Duffy, Dolly, and Eunice Bloom.

Then Connor woke up one morning, something fiery flowing hot through his body. He felt like a live wire, like lightning had struck his very heart. He sat up straight in his bed and looked out across the hall. Murphy was staring straight back at him.

Sarah blinked her eyes open and gave a nod to Connor before falling back asleep.

"Been quiet, hasn' it?" Connor asked the next day in the yard.

"Maybe we finally scared them all off," Sarah suggested, yawning. "Shit, I didn' sleep well at all last night. Something kept wakin' me up. Don' remember what though."

"Probably not important," Connor gave Murphy a clear look of why the fuck doesn't she remember last night?

"I think they're all waitin' for somethin'," Murphy said, pulling out three cigarettes, giving Connor a small glare.

"Somethin' like what?" Sarah asked, lighting her cigarette and taking a deep inhale of the smoke.

"I don' know, just somethin'," Murphy shrugged. "Can' ya feel it?"

"Yeah," Connor nodded. "I can feel somethin' fer certain."

"Stop with the fuckin' twin thing!" Sarah snapped. "Jesus Christ, it's never gonna end with you boys, is it?"

"Just feel it, leprechaun," Connor took her hands in his. "Feel. It. We know you can feel it. You can feel anything better than us. It's in yer heart, ya just gotta feel."

Sarah sighed and closed her eyes. Connor reached out and took Murphy's hand too. They could feel it. The power, the anticipation. The deep breath before the plunge. Something was going to happen, something soon. It was like being called back to Boston all over again. Sarah gasped and tightened her hold on Connor's hand, an electric current running from her to him and into Murphy.

"I can feel it," she whispered. "I – I mean… somethin' important is goin' ta happen."

"We will be ready for it," Connor said.

"Tonight," Murphy nodded.

Sarah opened her eyes and nodded.

The next morning the Saints of South Boston and their sidekick were nowhere to be found. There was no sign of forced entry or any sign of forced exit. One day the four of them were inside the Hoag. The next day, they were gone.