Mo Shíorghrá Chapter 1, a boondock saints fanfic

Welcome to part two of my Boondock Saint's series. This fanfic will posses a lot of changes, mainly that it will be strictly a BrannaxConnor fanfic (I MIGHT put some BrannaxMurphy in here, but I am not entirely sure yet) and unlike "For the Love of the Saint's" I do not have this story mapped out. So my updated might be sporadic and for that I apologize in advance. It also does loosely follow along with the plot-line of the second movie like the last one did with the first movie.

kat hakate90: See, I didn't leave you hanging too long! And I completely understand how you feel. I don't feel as close to Branna as I do, say, Tessa, but I understand completely. I can't write another DarylxOC Female fic for Walking Dead because I already feel like Daryl should only be with Tess. Its weird, but I definitely need to get off this train of thought because this isn't Walking Dead, so how the Hell did Tessa and Daryl find themselves in this author's note? O.o

mrsreedus69: Hope you read fast, 'cause here's the sequel hun! LOL

SabakuNoGaara426: Does this answer your question? ;)

Anyway! Hope you guys enjoy this starting chapter to this fanfic and remember: read, review and above all - enjoy!

- Nagiana

P.S. - before you guys review me saying anything - his name was NOT intentional, LOL! I was cruising around baby name sites looking for good Irish male names and when I saw it, it clicked and since I'm huge on character names clicking, I kept it. So yes, it is staying and no, I did not notice what it was until I was editing this chapter today :)

"Give me a whisper

And give me a sigh

Give me a kiss before you

tell me goodbye

Don't you take it so hard now

And please don't take it so bad

I'll still be thinkin' of you

And the times we had . . ."

"Don't Cry" by Guns N' Roses

Favorite Line(s):

Eight Years Later . . .

"So did ya two arrive safely?"

Connor grinned into his cellphone. He stood on the creaking wooden Boston dock, Murphy and Romeo's loud laughter coming behind him, and nodded. He already felt better. He already felt closer to Branna. "Yah, ma, we did." He replied and he could practically see her nod as she told him that was good – that she was glad. She then fell quiet for a moment – so long, in fact, that Connor thought he had lost her. He opened his mouth to speak, but she suddenly spoke, causing him to abruptly close his mouth.

"Listen, Conn, I know tha two of ya are gonna wanna see Bran, but promise me somethin', would ya . . .?" She asked, her voice sounding slightly anxious, and Connor's eyebrows furrowed in immediate confusion. This wasn't often a tone his mother's voice took.

"Yeah, o' course I will, ma! What is it?"

"I've kept up wit her all these years and I have to tell ya somethin'. Ya go see her first and ya go alone." She told him, her voice suddenly turning firm. "Don' ya bring Murph wit ya tha first time – ya go alone! Ya understand me?"

"But why, ma?"

"Don' ya question me, Connor MacManus!" Annabelle snapped through the line, and Connor had to force himself to keep from grinning. "Now ya listen ta me, Connor! Ya take Murph wit ya tha first time and shite's gonna hit tha fan! Don' take him wit ya – ya go alone!"

Connor couldn't help but still feel extremely confused at his mother's warning, but promised her that he would listen to her and go alone the first time he went to go see Branna. She told him he was a good boy and he hung up the phone after telling her he and Murphy loved her. He turned around and walked back to the two men waiting for him and both turned expressionless gazes onto him.

"What did ma want?" Murphy asked and Connor shrugged his shoulders.

"Jus' wanted ta know if we got here okay and ta come back safe. Tha' and she loved us." He told him, leaving out what she said about Branna, and Murphy nodded, not questioning him because his explanation did sound like their mother. Connor simply looked away as Murphy descended back into his conversation with Romeo then, the lighter MacManus deep in thought. Why would he need to go alone to see Branna the first time? Wouldn't she want to see them both as soon as they got back? Was she . . . hiding something?

Connor shook his head, not wanting to think about it too long or risk making himself sick, and instead, turned his customary grin onto his brother and Romeo, a grin that the both of them quickly returned. "So, what 'bout it? Ya two wanna go see Doc?" Connor asked and while Murphy immediately jumped up in excitement, Romeo furrowed his eyebrows in slight confusion as he asked who the Hell 'Doc' was. Murphy and Connor said they'd explain it to him in the car and while Connor continued to grin all the way there, only Murphy knew that grin was largely false.

Connor didn't grin that much anymore.

Connor hadn't expected a lot from Doc when they showed up on his doorstep that night, but what he absolutely had not expected, was the look of graveness that appeared on the old man's face when Connor asked him about Branna later that night when Murphy and Romeo were busy fighting over who would go into the storeroom and get the next case of beer. Doc shook his head.

"She's h-h-had it rough since tha two of ya l-l-left." He told him and Connor immediately felt his heart drop down into the pit of his stomach. How rough had she had it? Was she still around? Was she still alive? Why the Hell did Doc have such a grave look on his face when he brought up Branna? Hell, was it because they had left her?

All these questions and more were swirling through Connor's head with the force of a hurricane as he leaned there on the bar talking to Doc and when he finally spoke, his voice came out hoarse and slightly afraid. "How bad did she have it? Is she still around?" He asked and Doc brightened somewhat.

"Oh she's doing well now! She's Irish, Conn – ya can't get us down f-f-f-f-for long!" He told him and Connor smiled and nodded as he glanced away. Branna had always been one of the strongest women he had ever known. And it might have been dickish of them to think such a thing, but they had known them leaving her would have hurt her, but they also knew she would eventually recover. Branna always managed to bounce back – she always did.

"Is she still around?" Connor asked again and Doc nodded.

"O' Course! She has an a-a-apartment down by O-O-O-O'Shoney's. It's not big per-say, but it's decent sized and it suits her needs fer now. She likes it."

"She still workin' tha same job?" He asked and Doc adopted a soft look on his face as he gazed at the man sitting before him. As soon as Connor had walked in, Doc's anger at him all but instantly abated. By the sight of him, it was quite clear that the man had suffered over the years, just as much as Branna had. His looks had changed much in the eight years since him and Murphy had been gone, his sleek, aquiline good-looks disappearing in favor of a fuller, older handsomeness. He was also built a little bit bigger now, his rail-thinness replaced with a muscular bulk that Doc never would have thought Connor would have acquired when he was younger. His eyes, however, was what had changed the most. The mirth of his younger days had been replaced with a forlorn unhappiness and misery that that seemed to permeate them down to his very soul. It was this look in his eyes that had caused Doc's anger of him to disappear. This man had suffered a lot.

"Why don' ya ask these q-q-questions to her yourself, Conn?" He asked him gently, and Connor immediately turned a wide-eyed look onto him. He shook his head.

"I don' . . . what if she doesn' want ta see me? I can' . . . I can' jus' barge into her life like tha' Doc – tha' ain' right – not after what I've done ta her!" He told him and Doc let out a bark of a laugh. He shook his head.

"Connor, lad, b-b-believe me – if me g-g-g-granddaughter found out ya were here and had not went ta see her, then I would not wanna be ya!" He told him and Connor smiled and let out a laugh. He looked away.

"I wouldn' know what ta say ta her anyway, Doc. I left her and didn' tell her where I was goin'. I jus' . . ." He gave a shrug. "I don' know if I should, no matter if it's what she wants." Doc shook his head as he reached forward and placed his hand on Connor's shoulder from across the bar.

"Connor, lad. Ya need ta see her. I can' tell ya why, but ya need ta." He told him and Connor gazed at him for a few minutes before nodding.

"Where does she live again?" He asked and Doc smiled and nodded. He hastily scribbled something down on a bar napkin before sliding it towards him. Connor took it and quickly pushed it down into his back jeans pocket as Romeo and Murphy walked over to the bar. While Murphy shot him a slightly confused look, Connor simply gave a shrug as he picked up his beer and took a swig.

Branna had certainly done well for herself. The apartment she was living in now, while not extravagant, was certainly part of the upper echelon of Boston's Irish South Side. It was a good-sized building of white brick and even had its own doorman that greeted him with a thick Irish accent but gave him a suspicious look nonetheless, especially when he inquired as to which floor Branna Whelan resided on.

"I'm sorry sir, but we don' 'ave a Branna Whelan in this buildin'. We 'ave a Branna MacManus who lives on tha' third floor, but not a Branna Whelan."

Connor felt temporarily floored at the man's words. Branna had changed her name? It wasn't exactly that he was complaining, but . . . why?

Connor nodded after a moment. "Yeah, tha's who I meant, sorry. I'm an old friend and I haven' seen her in a while – I didn' know tha' she had changed her name." He told him and the doorman nodded. He gave him the okay to go on up but did let him know that he would call ahead. Connor nodded, figuring that at least Branna wouldn't be that surprised to see him.

She was waiting for him when he finally reached the third floor. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and her eyes widened in shock when she saw him. "C-Connor . . .?"

His name came on a purely confused tongue when she stood there and gazed at him for a moment, almost as if she couldn't believe that it was really him, before a look of dawning recognition appeared on her face. Her eyes grew wide as a hand immediately flew to her mouth. "Oh ma God, Conn, it really is ya! When Patrick called up sayin' ya were comin' up, I thought . . . I thought it was a cruel joke, but no, ya . . . ya really here . . .!" Branna's shocked voice came out in a low tone full of disbelief. He gave a little laugh and a weak smile as he nodded. His hands moved to bury in the front pockets of his jeans and they stood there for a moment, Branna in her apartment with Connor standing on the other side of her threshold in front of her as slowly but steadily, her eyes filled up with tears. "Ya dare show ya face ta me?" She asked him, her voice lowering to a breathy whisper still filled with disbelief, and Connor shook his head, his eyes becoming mournful.

"Mavourneen, ya know we had ta leave! We were bein' hunted – we were -!"

"Please, don' say anythin' more, Connor MacManus! Jus' . . . shut up and come in 'fore ya get tha neighbors houndin' me arse!" She interrupted him, her eyes flickering with anger that her voice quickly grew to mimic. She shook her head as she stepped aside, allowing him to enter her home and he obediently did so, his head bowing and his eyes throwing themselves to the floor. She closed the door behind them and immediately moved to cross her arms in front of her chest again as she turned around to face him. Connor brought his eyes up to hers as he did so and she shook her head again. "Would ya mind startin' out by explainin' why exactly ya are 'ere?"

Connor shook his head in response to her words. "I had ta see ya – tha's why I'm here. I-I missed ya, Branna -"

"Bullshit."

"Never!" A flicker of slight anger appeared in his beautiful blue eyes then as he replied to her. That time, it was his voice that had dropped down to a breathy whisper full of disbelief and anger. She continued to gaze into his eyes, however - those beautiful blue eyes that she had missed for so long and had seen only in her dreams. "Never call bullshit on tha' – on how I feel fer ya! We've missed ya tha entire time we've been in Ireland – I've missed ya tha entire time we've been in Ireland!" He shook his head then. "Please tell me ya missed us too . . ." He swallowed hard, his tongue darting out to lick at his suddenly dry as sandpaper lips. "Please tell me ya missed me!"

Branna swallowed hard and opened her mouth to say something as she shifted uneasily from foot-to-foot. However, she was interrupted by a knock echoing on the door. They shared a lingering look as she turned around and headed towards the door, where she opened it. Connor turned around as she did so and walked further into her apartment, his eyes scanning every available detail that he could easily find. He immediately took notice of the warm color palate of the walls and the décor and just the overall expensiveness of it. Doc hadn't been lying - she wasn't doing too badly for herself. She had come a very long way from sharing a falling-down, illegal loft apartment with two Irish twins that also had no hot water unless you ran it for at least fifteen minutes.

"Alannah, how did ya like spendin' tha night at Brian's?"

The zipping of a coat and the crinkling sound of water-resistant clothe split the silence as someone took off said coat. "It was a lot of fun. We watched cartoons and that new animated movie that just came out. And then Brian's da almost lost a finger because he was playing with his dog and it got a little too excited and lunged at him!" Branna's light laughter filled with love and adoration, practically assaulted his ears. "School was good too. We're working on a project in science based on the water cycle."

"Are ya now? D'ya like it so far?"

Connor immediately felt an icy finger run down his spine when he heard Branna's soft, loving voice accompanied by the immature one of a child. He found himself slowly turning around before he could stop himself, where he found her kneeling in front of said child. The child was a boy that was no older than eight and Connor had to swallow hard to get past the hard lump that had been forming in his throat since he first heard the door close and someone taking off a coat. Branna looked up when she felt Connor's eyes on them and smiled a small smile as she stood, took the little boy's hand and slowly led him over to Connor.

"Sean, this is Connor MacManus; he's an old boyfriend of mine. He's been livin' in Ireland for tha past eight years 'cause of his job and I haven' seen him in a long time. He's here ta pay me a visit."

Sean . . . it means a Gift from God . . .

Sean smiled and nodded as he confidently held out his hand to him. Connor swallowed hard again as he forced himself to smile and squat down so that they were level with each other. He reached out and upon taking the boy's small hand in his, shook it. The kid had a surprisingly strong grip and Connor's eyes quickly scanned the boy, noticing immediately that he had olive-colored skin but light brown hair and beautiful blue eyes.

"It's very nice ta meet ya, Sean. How old are ya, little man?" He asked when their handshake ended and Sean continued to smile.

"I'll be eight and a half next month." Connor's eyes immediately widened in pretend awe.

"Is tha' right, now - eight and a half next month, eh? Why, ya almost a teenager! Ya gonna be fightin' off tha girls left and right here pretty soon!" He told him and Sean grinned and laughed before he shook his head.

"I don't wanna grow up. Momma says when I'll grow up that I'll get all these kinds of new responsibilities and a cubic buttload of homework, so she told me not to want to grow up too fast. I do want to grow up, but growing up can take its time getting here, that's all." He told him and Branna couldn't help but grin and let out a laugh at his answer. Connor grinned as well as he chuckled, his eyes softening.

"Well, Sean, if I've learned anyting these past years tha' I've known ya ma, its tha she's a very smart woman. Ya should listen ta her well and often – someting I never did and I should have." Sean nodded in agreement as Branna settled her hands on his thin, small shoulders.

"Sean, darlin', it's almost time for bed. Ya wanna go wash up and brush ya teeth while I catch up wit Connor for a moment longer? I won' be long, I promise." She told him and Sean nodded as he turned his gaze up to hers.

"Will you be in for prayers?" He asked her and Branna nodded in reply, her eyes growing soft as she gently prodded him in the direction of the bathroom. Connor's face remained expressionless while inside he felt a curious mixture of confusion and interest. Branna had never been very religious to begin with – a sore topic with both Connor and Murphy's mother and father while him and Murphy had simply avoided talking about it with her. Why would she be raising her son religious while she herself wasn't?

When he had left, was when Connor turned his soft eyes onto her. "He's beautiful, Branna." He told her and Branna smiled in thanks as her arms moved to cross in front of her chest again.

"Tanks. And he's so bloody smart too, Conn! Straight A's – tha's all he'll allow himself ta get. He's good wit his hands, too – can build anyting ya put in front of him . . ." She gave a weak laugh then as she trailed off and ran her fingers through her still black as soot hair without a touch of gray. He smiled a small smile.

"His father must be proud of him."

"His father doesn' know of him." She corrected him as she turned her eyes up to his and changed the subject. "Where's Murph? I'm surprised he's not wit ya." Connor heaved a heavy sigh as he gingerly rubbed the back of his neck.

"He's still back at Doc's waitin' for me ta get back. We thought tha both of us suddenly showin' up on ya doorstep at eight at night would be a little alarmin'. So, we decided that one of us would show up today and tha other would show up at another time if ya wanted. I got today." Branna arched a slightly condescending brow.

"Did ya flip a coin on it?" Connor shook his head.

"No . . . I wanted ta come today – I wanted ta come first."

"Why?" She asked him, her eyebrows furrowing in slight confusion and curiosity and Connor heaved another heavy sigh, deciding not to tell her that Annabelle had advised it.

"I wanted ta tell ya tha' I loved ya – tha' I still love ya! I wanted ta tell ya tha' we didn' want ta leave ya, lass – tha' we had ta leave ya!" Branna let out a sarcastic little snort then and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"I'll call bullshit on tha' any day of tha week! Tha' two of ya didn' have ta go off and kill Yakavetta on live television, Conn! Ya guys didn' 'ave to become vigilantes – ya two had everythin' ya could ever want wit me!" Her eyes became slightly mournful then. "Ya two had everythin' wit me!" Connor nodded in reply, his expression becoming as mournful as hers was.

"I know, mavourneen, I know! But ya didn' know wha' it was like! Ya didn' know how much it hurt us whenever we would turn on tha news every mornin' and every evenin' and see tha same pathetic shit on it every damn day! Ya didn' know wha' it was doin' ta us jus' sittin' there doin' nothin' 'bout it – how badly it burned in us not doin' anyting for Bri!" Branna shook her head.

"Ya didn' even tell me ya were leavin', ya know?" She spoke up, her voice soft and Connor flinched violently at the realization. They hadn't. They hadn't told her a word of where they were going – for her own safety, their father would always tell them - but Connor still had his reservations. He hadn't acted on them, however, and that alone was the one thing that kept his guilty feelings going for eight straight years. They stayed in silence then for a moment before Connor decided to break it.

"Wha' is Sean's last name, Branna?" He asked her, his voice gentle and quiet, and Branna turned her eyes up to his.

"Wha' are ya talkin' 'bout?"

"Ya heard me. Wha's ya son's last name, Bran?" He asked and Branna gazed at him dumbly for a minute. She opened her mouth to say something but was saved by Sean suddenly come running from the room, dressed in fresh pajamas and with a sparkling, award-winning smile.

"Momma, I'm done! Are you coming with me to help me say my prayers?" He asked her and she smiled and nodded as she framed her son's face with her hands and bent down, where she pressed a loving kiss to his forehead.

"O' course I am, alannah. Are ya ready now?" She asked him and Sean nodded as he glanced up at Connor towering above him.

"Does Connor want to come too?"

Branna turned a halfway expressionless gaze onto Connor who smiled apologetically and shook his head. "No, but maybe next time, Sean, okay?" He asked and Sean nodded, allowing the rebuff to slide off him like water as he grasped his mother's hand and pulled her off in the direction of what Connor assumed was the little boy's bedroom. Connor stood there for a moment as they disappeared into the room, the light cutting on seconds later. As Connor ran his fingers over his lips, he let out a low curse under his breath. What had he been thinking? What had the both of them honestly been thinking? Did they honestly think that Branna would remain holding a torch for them for eight long years – especially after what they had done to her – how they had left her so suddenly and coldly? Did they not think that she would move on – start a family of her own – a family that she had started without them?

He was suddenly brought out of his thoughts by another icy finger running up and down his spine. "And Shepherds we shall be/ For thee, my Lord, for thee/ Power hath descended forth/ from Thy hand, that our feet . . ."

The rest of the prayer faded from his hearing as Connor turned swiftly around on his heels. He had heard the family prayer being delivered from the lips of Sean and wasted no time in appearing in the little boy's bedroom doorway in record time. They both looked up when he appeared and his eyes settled onto Sean, who only furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"Let me ask ya, someting - where did ya learn tha' prayer, Sean?" He asked him, knowing damn good and well that Branna would not have taught that prayer to just anyone. Sean glanced in confusion at his mother before turning his gaze back onto Connor.

"Momma taught it to me. She said it was my daddy's family prayer and that I should learn it because that makes it my prayer too." Connor nodded, wordlessly - dumbfoundedly.

"From Thy hand, that our feet/ May swiftly carry out Thy command/ so we shall flow a river forth to Thee/ and teeming with souls shall it ever be . . ." Connor continued and Branna smiled a small smile at the beyond confused look in Sean's eyes as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"His full name, Connor, is Sean Connor MacManus. He's the reason I changed my last name to 'MacManus'." Her eyes filled with tears again. "He's named after his da, Conn . . ."

And then, with sudden clarity, Connor knew why his ma had told him to go alone the first night. Shit definitely would have hit the proverbial fan if he had brought Murphy.

But as he gazed at the little boy, he felt those missing pieces fall into place in his heart. He had missed Branna, yes, but he had also missed the son he never knew he had been graced with.