Lockdown

Chapter 1

"Get 'em, Murph!" Connor MacManus yelled from his spot on the sidelines where two older boys were holding him, arms behind his back. Murphy heard his brother's shout of support but didn't dare take his focus off of the threat in front of him.

A rather large group of kids had gathered, creating a circle around the two Irish boys, enthusiastically watching the confrontation unfold before them. In the center of the ring stood Murphy who at the age of twelve was slightly smaller than the other kids his age. However, what he lacked in size he more than made up for with his fiery personality and unbending, stubborn nature. Standing opposite of Murphy was a lean, red haired boy, who stood a solid head taller than his opponent and was approximately two years his senior.

"You've got this, Liam. Teach this eejit how to mind his own fucking business!" one of the boys restraining Connor hollered to the red head in the center.

Liam O'Malley was notorious for bullying and picking fights. The lad had a rage in him that never tired of seeing those weaker than him suffer. No one was really sure where this aggression came from, although rumor would suggest it was fueled by his less than pleasant home life.

Murphy didn't care what the chump's home life was like, he wasn't afraid of a fight and refused to back down to the older boy.

That afternoon, when Murphy had been sitting out in front of the school, waiting for Connor so they could walk the mile and a half across the small Irish town to their home, he had played witness to one of Liam's random acts of violence. Murphy sat and watched as the bully and three of his sidekicks had singled out one of the younger, smaller boys, the way a lion singles out a sick gazelle. The teasing had started out with a few well-aimed insults, and when that failed to garner the desired reaction it swiftly escalated to pushing, shoving and more violent methods.

Murphy narrowed his eyes in disdain and quickly scanned the area for any sign of a teacher or authority figure to step in and take control of the situation. There was no one to be found. Taking a deep breath, he gained his feet and made his way across the schoolyard with long determined strides.

"Back the fuck off of him, Liam. He didn't do anything to you." At the sound of Murphy's voice the boys stopped and glanced over their shoulders before breaking out in laughter.

"What the fuck are you going to do about it, MacManus?" One of the boys taunted, an evil grin spreading across his face as if daring Murphy to try something.

Liam took note of the squared shoulders and determined set of Murphy's jaw, as well as the defying glint in the younger boys eyes and turned around to face this new challenge more fully. He smiled mockingly at the other boy and, without breaking eye contact with his young challenger, Liam brought his leg into a backswing; preparing to deliver another blow to the helpless, prostrate form on the ground before him. Without hesitation, Murphy charged the bully, Liam's foot never connecting with its intended target.

Connor knew, the second he stepped foot outside the school building, that there was trouble. The sound of shouting and cheering drew his attention to the far corner of the open field in front of the school. A crowd was quickly gathering there and he squinted, trying to see what had drawn their attention. The group parted for a brief moment, just long enough for Connor to catch a glimpse of his brother taking a swing at Liam O'Malley.

"Christ, Murph," Connor muttered under his breath before taking off at a sprint across the field.

The MacManus boys had a reputation of their own for being a bit on the scrappy side, but they never bullied or picked on those weaker than them. If a confrontation were to arise, for the sake of their Ma, the boys always attempted a peaceful resolution. However, if peace negotiations failed, neither brother had any qualms about taking it to the next level. It never mattered who or what started the fights, Connor and Murphy always had each other's backs.

By the time Connor arrived on the scene and pushed his way through the crowd, the fight had escalated and turned into a grappling match on the ground. Liam, who had gained the upper hand and was straddling Murphy's hips, brought his fist down hard into the younger boy's nose, causing a trickle of blood to flow down Murphy's face.

Connor heard a curse, in what he knew to be French, escape his brother's lips, just as Liam hauled off and punched him again. He had seen enough.

Dashing forward, he wrapped his arms around Liam's chest, forcefully yanking the boy off of his brother. "Get the hell off of him!"

Liam whirled around, shoving Connor away from him. "Let your brother fight his own fucking battles!"

Before Connor could retaliate, he found himself trapped between two boys who were grabbing his arms and yanking him back to the edge of the ring.

Murphy used the distraction to get his feet back under him and prepare himself for another round. He spared a brief glance at his brother, making eye contact and giving him a quick nod. He was okay.

Liam, satisfied that Connor could no longer get in the way, turned back to see Murphy gaining his feet and wiping the blood from his nose onto his shirt sleeve. "It's your lucky day, MacManus. I'm feeling generous. If you can apologize and admit your mistake in front of all these people, I'll let you walk away now."

Murphy's eyes flashed fire at the suggestion and he let out a short, humorless laugh. "You hit like a fucking pussy," was his only response as he spit blood into the dirt at Liam's feet.

Liam's face turned red in anger but he didn't bother exchanging any more words, he just raised his fists to a ready position and began circling his prey. Murphy stood still, fists clenched at his sides, weight balanced evenly on the balls of his feet, his eyes never leaving the threat that was moving menacingly around him. He could hear Connor shouting his encouragement and the jeering of the other students as they made bets on who would come out victorious. Murphy forced it all to the background, his focus entirely on the older boy in front of him, waiting for him to make a move.

Liam took the first shot, a right hook, which Murphy easily dodged. Three more punches followed in rapid succession. Murphy ducked the first two, but the third hit its mark in the side of his face, throwing him off balance. He recovered quickly and came up swinging, landing one punch to Liam's nose and another to his abdomen. The crowd reached a new level of excitement, as the redheaded boy's temper flared.

Murphy threw another punch, putting his whole weight into the hit, and when it missed its mark, his momentum spun him around, exposing his back. Liam was quick to grab him from behind, pinning Murphy's arms to his side as he attempted to take him to the ground.

Murphy resisted, acting quickly, he threw his head back, catching Liam in the nose. A distinctive cracking sound told him it was now broken. The older boy let out a raging howl and released Murphy as his hands flew to his face, covering his new injury.

Taking advantage of the distracted and watery-eyed state of his opponent, Murphy grabbed Liam by the back of the head and brought his knee up to meet his face.

He dropped to the dirt and made no effort to rise.

Murphy turned his back on the boy, attempting to walk away and end this, when the sound of Liam's voice stopped him. "Is that all you fucking got, MacManus?"

Murphy turned to see that Liam had made it back up onto one knee, blood still pouring from his nose. His pride not allowing him to walk away from the challenge, Murphy began striding back over to where Liam was still kneeling in the dirt. He had almost reached the older boy and yet he still hadn't made a move to stand all the way up. Murphy approached cautiously, not really sure what he was up to. It wasn't until he was about three feet away that Liam made a move. Without warning he sprang up from his place in the dirt, charging at Murphy, and tackling him full force into the ground.

Murphy was hit so hard that the wind was knocked out of him. He couldn't breath, he couldn't think, and he couldn't react when Liam's fist smashed into his face over and over. These were no ordinary punches. Something was different.

Connor could only watch in frustration as his brother was thrown to the ground. Murphy appeared to be making no effort to fight back or get up and he started to grow concerned.

"Come on, Murph, get up," he quietly willed his brother to fight, to do something. Connor saw Liam's knuckles come away red with his brother's blood and winced. What he couldn't see was the palm-sized rock the other boy had clenched inside his fist.

Every second that passed Connor's struggle to get loose grew more and more frantic. It was obvious that the fight was over, yet Liam continued to bring his fists down relentlessly.

"Let me go! It's fucking over, let me go!" Connor yelled at the boys holding his arms. After a few more moments of fighting and cursing the hands holding him back, Connor was finally released. The moment the hands around his arms and chest disappeared he dashed toward his twin, his urgency causing him to slip and slide in the dirt as he covered the distance between them.

Skidding to a stop, he grabbed Liam from behind and pulled him away from Murphy's still form.

Liam didn't fight when Connor pulled him away; he just grinned, taking one last glance at his handiwork, before turning and walking away.

Dropping to his knees at Murphy's side, Connor began to check him over. "Murph? Murphy, can you hear me? Jesus, look at ya." There was so much blood on his brother's face he couldn't tell where it all was coming from.

Murphy could feel Liam being dragged off of him and he could hear his brother calling his name but he couldn't form the words for a response. He was fighting like hell just to hold onto consciousness but darkness was pulling at him. Murphy trusted his brother with his life, and now that he was here, he knew he would be safe. With that last thought he let go and drifted off into the sweet relief of unconsciousness.

/ / /

"Murph? Can you hear me? Come on, Murphy, open your fucking eyes."

Murphy clung to the sound of Connor's voice, allowing it to gently ease him back to consciousness. Slowly, he cracked one eyelid open, immediately regretting that decision as his pounding head protested the bright fluorescent lights above him.

"Ah, there you are, Sleeping Beauty. Have a nice nap, did ya?"

When he heard his brother's voice again Murphy opened his other eye, attempting to get a better look at his surroundings. The plain white walls, barred windows, and prison guard keeping watch not ten feet away grounded him to the reality of where they were, and it sure as hell wasn't the green fields of fucking Ireland.

"What the fuck happened?" he mumbled through his hands, which he was using in an attempt to block out the offensive light.

"Well, I'll tell ya, you have a real way with the criminals, Murph. Those bastards, they just can't keep their hands off you." Connor chuckled at the glare Murphy laid on him before answering the real question. "Nothing too serious, though. Someone just needed to be taught a lesson on who he can and can't put his hands on, that's all."

Murphy glanced at Connor out of the corner of his eye, taking note of the fresh bruises and stitches decorating his brother's face. "Looks like it was pretty fucking serious to me."

Connor shrugged. "You should see the other guy." He nodded his head, indicating something on the other side of the room.

Grimacing as he pushed himself up on his elbows, Murphy glanced across the prison infirmary. Occupying a bed in the far corner of the room was a very large, brute of a man, who was so bruised and battered he looked as if he had been used as a piñata. Murphy recognized the fellow as Geno Pisani, an inmate who, back in the day, served as muscle for the Italian mafia. Raising his eyebrow in question he turned back to his brother. "He looks like he's had better days. That your handiwork?"

"Aye." Connor gently nudged his brother's shoulder. "With no help from you I might add."

Murphy searched his memory, trying hard to recall the events that led them to their current situation. Slowly, the memories resurfaced. He remembered being out in the yard. He had been walking the perimeter of the outdoor enclosure with his brother and Romeo. Always keeping their backs to the fence and a watchful eye on the other inmates.

Their reputation as the Saints preceded them. Everyone was familiar with the brothers and their divinely influenced mission. Geno was only one of the hundreds of convicts imprisoned at the Hoag to take issue with the Saints and their supreme form of justice. Needless to say, as long as they were trapped inside this jungle of concrete and steel, they were never safe.

Murphy remembered hearing the sound of the three-second, one-tone bell that indicated the end of yard time, and following his brother and Romeo to where the guards were lining the inmates up to head back to the cellblock. The trio had made it about half way across the yard when Murphy felt someone grab him from behind.

The last thing he could recall was struggling to face his attacker before a blinding flash of pain exploded across the back of his skull. He was immediately swallowed by darkness.

Cringing at the memory, Murphy pushed himself all the way up into a sitting position, despite the dizziness and nausea that was brought on by the movement.

"Our friend Geno over there, was he the only one?" He asked looking back to his twin was now sitting at the foot of Murphy's.

"Na, he had two of his pals in on it. But don't you fret. With Romeo's help we made quick work of 'em." Connor reached a hand up and adjusted the bandage around his brother's head.

"Rome? Is he ok?" Murphy asked, realizing for the first time that their friend wasn't with them in the infirmary. He wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

"He's fine. He took a few good knocks, but nothing that needed stitching up. They took him straight to solitary, which is where I'll be headed as soon as the doc gives his okay."

"What? What the fuck are they putting you in there for? It was self defense!" Murphy's temper flared quickly, his anger getting the best of him as it so often did. "Do they just fucking expect us to roll over and let them beat the fucking shit out of us?" His voice rose until he was almost shouting, which garnered the attention of the prison guard near by. The man took a step closer and pointed a finger in warning.

Connor laid a hand on this brother's shoulder in an attempt to calm him. "It may have been self-defense at first, Murph, but," he chuckled lightly and a guilty grin spread across his face, "by the time it was all said and done we may have taken it a bit beyond that." Connor grew serious again and looked up to meet his brother's eyes. "Like I said, they needed to be taught a lesson. I wasn't going to let this slide." He looked meaningfully at the bandage around Murphy's head.

Murphy nodded, he understood. He certainly didn't blame Connor for this, and had the roles been reversed, he would have done the same thing. Lowering his voice, he ventured a question he was dreading the answer to. "How long?"

Connor sighed and dropped his hand from his brother's shoulder. "Not too sure exactly. A week, maybe more."

"Fuck." Murphy rubbed a hand across his face before running it through his dark hair.

Connor understood why the news disturbed his brother, for the same worries had been eating away at him.

Three weeks had passed since the events leading to the incarceration of the Saints took place. That was three weeks that they have been surviving in this shark tank where everyone was an enemy waiting for an opportunity to take a shot at them. Up to this point, the trio had managed to fend off trouble by sticking together and watching each other's backs'. The other inmates seemed hesitant to make a move so long as the three of them remained vigilant and stayed close together.

Now that Romeo and Connor were both sentenced to a week or more of solitary confinement, Murphy would be on his own. He would be a lone swimmer in a sea of bloodthirsty sharks.

"You need to listen to me now, Murph," Connor waited until he had his brother's full attention before continuing, "You've got to play this fuckin' smart. Spend as much time in the cell as you can and keep your back protected as often as possible. I want you to…" he paused, knowing the reaction his next words would have. "I want you to stay close to the guards. That way if trouble starts they can break it up quick."

Murphy gave a short, humorless laugh before glaring at his brother. "You mean cower behind the guards like a fucking pussy?"

Connor's frustration mounted and he resisted the urge to smack his brother in the head. "I mean act like a fucking man that wants to stay the fuck alive!"

Murphy understood the logic of it. However, his pride was having a harder time coming to terms with the idea of clinging to the prison guards like a frightened child.

Before he could respond, their conversation was interrupted by the presence of a tall, light-haired, middle-aged man, sporting a white lab coat over suit pants and button down shirt. The brothers recognized the fellow as Dr. Schneider, the chief physician at the Hoag.

Dr. Schneider flashed them a friendly smile. "How we doing, boys?" he asked in a kind voice. Connor and Murphy had noticed that, while every inmate wanted their heads on a plate, they actually had quite a few sympathizers among the prison staff. Dr. Schneider in particular, had had the opportunity to establish an easygoing relationship with the brothers during the time they spent in his infirmary recovering from the gunshot wounds they sustained the day they were taken into custody.

Connor nodded to the doctor and returned the smile. "Doing alright. Afraid Murph here has a bit of a headache though."

Pulling a small flashlight out of his front coat pocket, Dr. Schneider moved forward to examine Murphy. "It would be a miracle if he didn't. That was quite a hit you took, Murphy," he said as he used his light to evaluate Murphy's pupil reaction. "Any nausea? Dizziness?" he questioned quietly, lowering his voice to accommodate their close proximity.

"Aye, a bit of both," Murphy responded matching the doctor's hushed tone.

Giving a little nod, Dr. Schneider returned his flashlight to his coat pocket and moved around his patient to check the wound on the back of his head. Murphy winced as the doctor pulled back the bandage and lightly prodded the area with his fingers. Satisfied with what he saw, he replaced the bandage and stepped back out in front of his patient.

"The wound on your head is looking good. I don't think you will need stitches, and keeping it wrapped will help with the swelling. However, you may have a mild concussion. I want to keep you here overnight for observation, just to be on the safe side. Okay?"

Murphy nodded, and although he didn't show it, he was slightly relieved at getting to delay his free swim with the sharks. Seeing that Murphy understood, Dr. Schneider continued. "I'm afraid the only thing I'm allowed to offer to help manage your pain is Tylenol or Advil. Take your pick."

Murphy shook his head. "That's ok, Doc. I can handle it."

Connor laughed at his brother's response. "Aye, Macho Murph, here, he can handle anything." Reaching out, he ruffled Murphy's hair teasingly only to have his hand swatted away.

Dr. Schneider chuckled at their antics before turning his focus to Connor. "As for you, Connor, your stitches are holding nicely. I want to put some antibiotic cream on and cover them with a few bandages. Infections come easily in this place."

Pulling the necessary items from a drawer nearby, he directed Connor to move back over to his own bed. Pulling up a chair Dr. Schneider sat across from his him. Using a cotton swab, he began spreading a thick ointment across the stitches.

"These sutures will dissolve on their own in a about a week, so no need to come back and have them taken out. Once I get these bandages in place, I'm going to have to release you into the custody of the guards." His eyes met Connor's for a brief moment before refocusing on his task. Connor didn't respond, he just nodded slightly and glanced over at his brother who was watching him closely.

After smoothing the last bandage down across Connor's cheekbone, the doctor rolled his chair back over to the cabinet, replacing the supplies and discarding the trash into a can nearby. "That'll do it!" He said with a smile.

After cleaning up his mess, Dr. Schneider turned to Connor with a serious expression on his face. "I don't want to see you in here again. Do you understand? No more trouble." He cracked a small grin to let the brothers know he was halfway joking. "I'll be back to check on you in a few hours, Murphy. Try to stay awake if you can. I don't think your concussion is serious, but better safe than sorry."

"Thanks, Doc." Connor and Murphy replied in unison. Dr. Schneider gave a nod before turning to walk away.

The brothers watched as the man exchanged a few words with the nearest guard before continuing about his business. After speaking with the doctor, the guard turned and headed in their direction.

Connor saw that their time was almost up and quickly moved back to his brother's side. Placing both hands on Murphy's shoulders he gave him a little shake. "You do what I fucking said, you hear me, Murphy? Lay low and watch your fucking mouth, you know it always gets you in trouble."

"On your feet inmate."

Connor heard the guard behind him but made no move to comply. "You have to swallow your pride now, Murph. If someone tries to start something, ignore it, let it go. We can take care of it together when I get out."

Murphy didn't say anything.

"You fucking listening to me?" Connor asked when his brother failed to acknowledge him.

"Don't make me ask you again, MacManus. I said on your feet!" The guard was growing impatient.

Murphy saw the intensity in his brother's eyes. He knew what being stuck in solitary confinement, not knowing what was happening outside those walls, was going to do to his twin. He would give him this.

"I hear you, Connor. I'll do my best, alright?" Murphy spoke the words calmly, hoping they would ease his brother's mind.

Connor nodded and bent forward, resting his forehead against Murphy's bandaged one in a quick show of affection. After giving his brother a swift pat on the side of the face, Connor stood to face the guard.

"Turn around. Arms behind your back." Connor did as he was told and felt a pair of cold, steel handcuffs tighten down on his wrists. He never broke eye contact with Murphy the entire time his back was to the guard. He was praying that the next time he saw his brother he would still be in one piece.

Once the handcuffs were in place the guard used them to pull his prisoner out in front of him before pushing him towards the exit. Connor hesitated at the door and turned, making eye contact with Murphy one last time before allowing the guard to guide him down the hall.

Chapter revised 10/16/17