Kuro here. You're wondering what the hell happened to this story, huh? I wasn't happy with the way it was going. So, with the help of my good friend Yume and an outside source (another friend), I've rewritten chapter one! Yay! Oh, and the help of watching both the first and second movie in order-Yume just loves how Connor (Sean Patrick Flanery) speaks Spanish (it makes her giddy).

Disclaimer: I don't own Boondock Saints or its merchandising franchise. All rights belong to the brilliant man known as Troy Duffy (who better fuckin' make a third movie!).

ENJOY!

[Flash Back: Saint Patrick's Day]

"Run Murph! Run!"

It was a sight to see, a twenty year old young man running from a fourteen year old girl who's bite was as bad as her bark. "Ye better hope ta God I don' catch ye, Murphy MacManus!" she shouted, reaching a hand out to grab at his shirt. They ran through the house, jumping over couches—barely missing the occupants who sat on it.

Murphy MacManus and his fraternal twin, Connor MacManus, had been roped in by their mother to babysit their neighbor's kids—Ebony Ire and Aislinn Bristol—while Mrs. Ire, Mr. Bristol, and Mrs. MacManus went out to the Anvil for Saint Patrick's day to celebrate.

"Don't egg him on! Get 'im Aislinn!" cheered the young girl on the couch, who was seated next to the older MacManus twin, Connor, who wore a grin on his face.

They watched with amusement at the sight before them. Murphy had ducked into the kitchen, not noticing that the fourteen year old had taken to hiding behind the corner, just before the the entry way to the small living room from where the front door was. She hid in the shadows and waited for her prey—signaling for the two on the couch to stay silent.

"Look who's talkin'!" Connor said, being playfully shoved by the twelve year old.

As Murphy came around the corner out of the kitchen, having lost sight of his chaser, the wind was knocked from him as he was tackled to the ground—his head smacking against the wood floor. "Gotcha!" came the victory cry of the young fourteen year old who sat on his chest and began wailing on him.

"Con! Get her off o' me!" the younger MacManus twin yelled, turning on his side to deflect the young teen's assault which soon came to an end as she was hauled off of the young man by his older brother.

"Come on now, Aislinn, leave 'im alone."

Jerking her shoulders out of his grip, the young Bristol girl stalked over towards the couch and sat next to the twelve year old who stuck her tongue out at the twins. "Better stick yer tongue back in yer mouth, lass, or else I'll be takin' that from ye," Murphy threatened playfully as he got off of the floor, causing the younger child to stick her tongue back in her mouth. He turned to his brother. "I can't believe I had ta cancel my date with Rose to babysit."

"Quit yer belly achin' Murph. We owe it ta Ma as a favor fer all o' those favor's we've asked o' her, remember?"

"Aye, aye. No need ta remind me." How long was Connor, his older brother, going to hold that over his head?

The twins took their seats on the floor in front of the couch to watch television with the girls—Aislinn was seated behind Murphy, and began glaring a hole into the back of his skull. She had the perfect opportunity to smack him good in the back of his head, but then that would lead to another chase around the house with something eventually breaking. I'll get ye back for that earlier comment Murphy MacManus... Just you wait...

Silence fell over the entire house as the evening wore on—as it rounded twelve-thirty in the morning, Connor took notice of the curled up sleeping figures on the couch. "We should get them covered before we head off to bed ourselves—don' want them catchin' colds." He got off the floor, followed by his brother, and both proceeded to cover the sleeping girls with the large blanket that he had pulled off the back of the couch.

It was after that the two girls were covered that the front door to their small home burst open to reveal a bewildered Mrs. Ire. "Where's Aislinn?" she questioned, panic evident in her voice.

"On the couch sleeping—why, what's the matter?" Murphy asked, looking over his shoulder to the slumbering girl.

"Her grandmother's in town—throwing a fit—she's threatened to bring harm to Aislinn," Mrs. Ire stated, shutting the door behind her and locking the door behind her, peaking out from the curtains, making sure she hadn't been followed. "Mr. Bristol told me to come here to make sure everything is okay."

This brought the brothers to take post at the front door and the window—alarmed by what the elder Ire had just passed on to them. "Where was she?" Connor asked, grabbing their great-grandfather's walking stick as a weapon in case the deranged woman made an appereance.

"At the Anvil. She strolled in, drunk out of her mind, and began yelling at Shamus."

"Mrs. MacManus said to keep the girls here for the night," Ebony's mother stated, walking towards the kitchen. "I'm going out through the kitchen door to get home, I trust you both to keep the girls safe?"

"Aye, Mrs. Ire, ye can count on us—"

"Aislinn!" The shrill drunken voice had pierced the night sky.

"Christ." The older woman moved to look out the window, standing behind Murphy. "She followed me—I'll call the Anvil and pass on the message to your mother and Mr. Bristol." She moved away from the window and made a mad dash for the telephone in the kitchen that sat in the corner on the counter near the stove.

"Give me my granddaughter!" The old woman screamed, standing outside of the MacManus home, a bottle of Guinness in her hand. "Give me the child now!"

The old woman was creating such a commotion outside that it gathered the attention of the neighbors—who by now had called the authorities. "Don' think she'll be leavin' anytime soon—at least, not until the police get here."

"What's going on?" The question came from the couch as the once slumbering girls now sat up and stared at the twins. It was Ebony who had spoke first.

"Aislinn's grandmother is throwing a tantrum."

In the distance, they could hear the wailing of the police sirens. "She does this every year..." A depressed look fell into place on the fourteen year old's face which instantly disappeared and was replaced by an angered one. The young girl got off the couch and swiftly went to the front door, swinging the door open with a loud bang as it hit the wall. She grabbed the walking stick from Connor's hand, but was stopped by his hand on her shoulder.

"Yer ma's death was not yer fault—and no matter how many times that old bat brings it up, Murph, Ebony, and I are always here ta back ye up."

"Aye, I know." With walking stick in hand, she went out onto to the front porch to deal with the bitter old woman whom she was forced to call her grandmother.

"There ye are, ye good fer nothing little whore!" the old woman spat, taking a deep swig from the nearly empty bottle in her hand.

"I'm tired o' ye comin' 'round 'ere and causin' trouble! Go back ta the retirement home before I beat ye with this!" She shook the walking stick in the air to show that she wasn't bluffing. It was then that the police showed up, with her father in tow—driving his worn down truck with Mrs. MacManus riding in the front seat.

[2 Years Later, Flash Back Continued]

She was a third year student, and the intense study session in the library she had just completed fully drained her of all the energy she had had earlier this morning. "Ta hell with that! Once I get my Junior Certificate, I'm done—no more school!"

"Don't you want to get into a good college?"

"What part o' 'no more school' are ye not hearing from my mouth?"

"We've got one year of the Junior Cycle left, then the transition year—which is optional, mind you—then two more years until you get your Leaving Certificate."

"Like I said before, Ebony, ta hell with that!" The sixteen year old practically shouted as the passed an elderly couple on their afternoon stroll. She quieted down some before continuing her rant. "Besides—with the custody battle between my father and grandmother, there's a good chance I won't get to finish schooling here in Ireland. Da's been talkin' to a friend o' the family in the States—he says that if things continue here the way they are, I'm going ta be living in America."

"Your grandmother? You mean the one off your mother's side?"

"Aye, the very same."

"Doesn't she hate you?"

"Aye. And if she wins the custody battle—there's not tellin' what she may do ta me."

"I'd rather see you shipped off to America then be abused by that old crone—do the boys know? You guys have been friends for a while."

"Known 'em since I was four. And no, they've got their own problems ta deal with—Connor tryin' ta keep a steady job ta help their Ma. And Murphy tryin' ta keep his girlfriend happy as a clam. I don't think it's necessary for me ta add on ta their worries."

They walked in silence as they neared the street on which they lived. The silence lasted for a few short seconds before Ebony opened her mouth to speak once more. "When will you know?" she asked, looking at her friend with a saddened expression.

"End o' this month. Fer the time being, keep yer mouth shut until I say otherwise, got it?"

"Yes ma'am." Ebony mock-saluted, chuckling a little.

When the two of them got closer to their homes, their ears were greeted to the sound of people arguing. "Fer fuck sakes, Rose, I left ye alone fer one measly minute ta get a pint o' Guinness, and and the next thing I know, yer making eyes at Devin O'Brien!"

"I was not! We were havin' a conversation, Murphy! Which is more than what we do when we're with each other! All ye ever do when we out is get drunk off yer arse!"

It was coming from the front porch of the MacManus home.

"What are ye tryin' ta say?" demanded the younger twin, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Maybe we should see other people—that's what I'm tryin' ta say!"

As the girls got closer to the MacManus house, having walked up the small cobbled path way, they were nearly knocked over by a fiery redheaded young woman who was clearly pissed beyond all reason. When the woman was out of sight, they turned to the twenty-two year old with confusion. "Something wrong, Murph?" Ebony asked. It was in her nature to be concerned about her friends—especially her only friends which consisted of Murphy, Connor, and Aislinn.

"Huh?" He noticed the two of them standing at the bottom step of the front porch. "No. Nothings wrong—Rose and I are just havin' a small fight—that's all."

"That didn't sound like a small fight, Murph. Out with it, or so help me, I'll have Aislinn here put you in a headlock until you tell us," threatened the fourteen year old.

"It's grown up stuff, okay?" he said, scratching the back of his head. "So! How was yer day at school?" He quickly changed the subject—knowing full well that if he were to tell the two anything about his personal life—there would be hell to pay.

"Hell on Earth—that's how it was. I never want ta study fer another exam so long as I live!" the fiery sixteen year old tossed her book bag from her shoulder to the corner of the porch where it met the wall and floor with a loud thud as she stomped up the steps to take a seat on the banister.

"The teachers consider her an honor student—especially with her top marks—and she got stuck with that arrogant prick for a study partner, so she's in a foul mood," Ebony explained, following Aislinn up the stairs.

"I swear ta God—if I have ta listen ta him talk about how he's shooting fer going ta the most exclusive college in Ireland, I'm gonna kill 'im! The little prick thinks I enjoy listening ta him release the hot air out o' his big egotistical head!" She swore in Italian, causing Murphy to laugh.

"He's that bad?"

"You have no idea."

The three of them fell silent. It was eating away at the poor fourteen year old that she had been sworn to secrecy by the older girl. Murphy and Connor had a right to know whether or not their childhood friend was going to be leaving the country forever.

"Aislinn has something to say!" Ebony suddenly blurted out, catching both Murphy and Aislinn off guard.

"Ye do?"

"H-huh?" Damn it. She knew better than to tell Ebony any form of secret—especially since the girl seemed to worry her head off like there was no tomorrow. Aislinn remained silent. She didn't want to tell anyone just yet—but now given the situation courtesy to Madame Big Mouth, she had no choice, because now Murphy wouldn't drop it until he found out what it was she had to say.

"What it is it? Ye get inta a fight?"

"No," she shot a glare at the younger girl. "It's got ta do with Da and grandmother."

"Oh... Want ta talk about it?"

"Not really, no. And I'd appreciate it if ye just drop the subject until further notice, aye?"

"Okay." He mentally scraped the top of his mind, searching for a new topic.

Without warning, the dark sienna haired girl got up from her perch on the banister and slugged the young man in the arm, causing him to flinch. "Tag. Yer it!" She bolted from the porch, grabbing Ebony's arm in the process and ran to the side of the house, slipping into the back yard to find a hiding spot. "Let's hide in the bushes!" Aislinn, with Ebony dragged along, ducked into the bushes as Murphy rounded the corner, his eyes roaming the back yard for any sign of the two.

"Oh c'mon! Where the hell are ye?"

The girls covered their mouths, stifling their laughter as Murphy passed them—the confused look on his face was priceless. Catching people off guard was something she was good at, it was as though it came to her naturally. If she was to move away to America, then she would make the best of the rest of this month. Aislinn motioned with her index finger to Ebony to remain silent. When Murphy's back was turned towards them, they silently snuck through the bushes and back out to the front yard to meet Connor coming up the walk way.

Ebony made the same silent motion as Aislinn had done a few seconds ago to Connor. "What are ye doin'?" he asked, keeping his voice down.

"Hiding from your brother."