I have to be honest, I'm not entirely sure about this chapter...


Wednesday, March 22nd, 2000

"I have to admit, Anthony," Ellie remarked as she took another sip of champagne. "I was a bit nervous when you said you wanted to take me out for my birthday, but this has been pretty amazing."

"What did you have to be nervous about?" Ellie put her glass down and cracked a smile.

"Ah, you know," she giggled. "Sometimes you can be a bit… Temperamental."

"Well, I wouldn't have to be so temperamental if you just did what you were supposed to." Because there was no threatening undertone to Anthony's voice, Ellie completely missed the slight against her. Instead, she just giggled some more.

"My bad. Hey, can you get the waiter or whoever to come back? This champagne is so good."

"That's your third glass."

"I know, but it's so good!" Ellie punctuated this by drinking the last bit of gold liquid out of her glass. "Thanks for convincing the waiters not to card me."

"It's no big deal. What difference does a year make?"

"None. I wish the people who made rules about these kinds of things realized that."

"Well, either way, I think it's time to stop for the night."

"Why? I'm not that drunk," she said through a fit of giggles.

"Still, it's bad enough that my girlfriend's a whore, don't need people knowing she's a drunk, too." Ellie's buzz died instantly.

"Oh, can we please not have this fight right now?" She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her hand to her forehead. "We're having a good time. Let's keep having a good time."

"Only if stop drinking for the rest of the night." Not wanting to have a confrontation with Anthony in such a nice restaurant, Ellie reluctantly agreed to his terms. When the waiter came back, Ellie asked for a glass of water while Anthony asked for the check.

"So," Ellie said after a long beat of silence. "Is this all you have planned for tonight, or is there another surprise waiting for me around the corner?"

"Don't worry," Anthony smirked. "I still have a few tricks up my sleeves."

"Oh, really?" Ellie mirrored his smirk. "Do I get any hints as to what they possibly could be?" Anthony chuckled.

"Let's just say you're about to get a birthday present you're never going to forget."


Sunday, June 3rd, 2001

Being back in such a familiar space was nothing but comforting. Most of the time nowadays, Murphy MacManus' mind was plagued with images of bloodshed and death – particularly the deaths of those closest to him. It seemed that most of the time, his mind was determined to give him a slow shot-by-shot replay of Rocco's death, or created some sort of imagined scenario in which he and Connor were doing a job that went wrong and resulted in Connor's death.

Those dreams always shook him to the core, but he knew there was no way to stop them. Rocco was dead and gone. Murphy had tipped over the chair he was restrained to shuffled as close as he could to the man as he took his last, dying breaths. He had seen it happen with his own eyes and there was no erasing it or bringing Rocco back. When he awoke from those dreams, the reality always crashed down on him hard and left a renewed sense of grieving in its wake. Murphy usually cried himself to sleep on those nights.

The dreams where Connor died were always devastating. Sometimes, they would be trapped in Yakavetta's basement again and instead of shooting Rocco, Papa Joe turned his gun on Connor. Other times, the situation would be completely fabricated. They would be in the middle of taking out some child murderer or something and out of nowhere Connor would be shot. Just like that, in an instant, Murphy's brother would be torn away from him. He always awoke with a start after those dreams. Murphy wouldn't be able to relax until he saw Connor's sleeping form on the other side of the room, and he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep afterward.

Tonight, though, for once he had a good dream. Not just a good dream, an amazing one that left him feeling warm all over. It was a dream about her. Murphy had no idea who she was, but she was beautiful, like a beam of light. Her smile was always kind and there was always a gentle air about her. He had been having dreams about this girl for as long as he could remember. Other than her smile, though, there weren't many details about her that he really could remember. She was just a nice, peaceful presence in his mind, which was something he was coming to value more and more.

They were in a desert, but it wasn't unbearably hot. Occasionally, the breeze would kick up the sand a bit, but otherwise, things were peaceful. He didn't realize she was there at first. She was standing far off in the horizon and looked like nothing more than a spec in the distance. It was her, though. Murphy just knew it.

Murphy tried to take a step closer to her, but when he did so, his foot sunk into the sand. He tried to move the other foot and achieved the same result. The more he struggled to pull his feet free, the deeper they sunk into the sand. Realizing that he wasn't going to get anywhere, Murphy stopped struggling and attempted to re-assess the situation. However, he then heard a voice calling for him in the distance.

"…Find me," she said.

"What?" Murphy tried to move closer to her, but only managed to sink ankle-deep into the sand.

"…Find me. You have to…"

"Have to what?" He questioned as he struggled through the sand. "Find you? I'm trying to do that!"

"…To come…" The voice was only moving further away, increasing Murphy's desperation and causing him to fall forward into the sand. As he struggled to get up he found himself being consumed by the sand. He tried to claw his way out, but it was no use. The sand was too strong and dragging him under.

"Come?" he shouted to the woman, whose silhouette was now a mere speck in the distance. "Come where? How am I supposed to get there? I can't get free! How am I supposed to find you if I drown in the sand?"

"…Come and find me." Was all she said in response. After that, Murphy was pulled completely under the sand and everything went black.


Murphy awoke with a start and immediately turned his attention over to Connor. His brother was clearly comfortably asleep in the bed next to his, giving Murphy some sense of relief and reassurance. Glancing out the window, he could see that it was still some ungodly hour of the night. He tried to roll over and go back to sleep, but unfortunately, his mind was abuzz with the events of the bizarre dream he had just had, and he found relaxing and falling asleep next to impossible.

The first thing that struck him as bizarre was that even though he was drowning in sand, he still felt perfectly at ease in the dream, right up until the sand caved in around him. However, he was able to write that off rather quickly. Any dream about her always was soothing, even if what was happening around them was frightening or just plain bizarre. Despite that, usually, she was right there standing next to him when all the said frightening/bizarre things started happening. This time, she was only a shadow in the distance and all he wanted to do was get closer to her, and it seemed that's what she wanted as well, which lead him to his second point.

She seemed adamant that he needed to come and find her. Why? He wasn't sure. He had tried to get closer to her, but nothing he did seemed to work. The sand just kept him anchored down to that one spot. The more he fought against it, the deeper he sank. Normally, he'd find that kind of thing terrifying, but this time he didn't.

Which brought him to the final oddity about the dream; he didn't find it frightening or disturbing at all. One would think that was just a testament to the cruel, disturbing nature his dreams had taken due to all the horrible things he had done and witnessed over the past few years, but Murphy was certain that another element was at play; because it was a dream about her, he wasn't afraid at all.

It was something that he had noticed all the way back when he started having these dreams as a kid. Nothing that happened in the dreams could or would frighten him if she was there. He didn't understand why, but dreams with her in them – no matter how disturbing they were – would leave him to feel nothing but calm and reassured. He never clearly saw her face and he didn't know her name, but all he could feel was a sense of peaceful ease whenever he dreamt of her.

So, after briefly considering those points, he let that calming sense completely wash over him as he fell back to sleep. That ended up being the first time in months that he was able to get a full night's sleep.


Saturday, June 9th, 2001

Every night that following week, Murphy had that same dream repeatedly. It wasn't like he minded. He was getting a decent amount of sleep with this recurring dream. Plus, he got to see her, so really nothing could be a detriment to this situation. The sinking in the sand part didn't even bother him that much. Most of the time his dream-self didn't fight against the force pulling him down into the earth. He just let the ground overtake him as he called out to the woman who was beckoning him.

That was the only thing bothering him about the dreams at this point. Every single time he had them, he screamed at the silhouette standing off in the distance, begging her to tell him where she was; what he had to do to free himself from the sand to get to her, or better yet, for her to come to him so they wouldn't have to scream across a desert at each other. There was only one response he got, and that frustrated him to no end.

"You have to come and find me."

There was obviously something more to this dream, but whatever it was Murphy just couldn't seem to figure it out. Why did he need to find her? Why was the sand making it impossible to move? What did it all mean? The more he thought about it, the more frustrated Murphy got. His dreams were never this complex or had seemingly hidden meanings in them. After he became a Saint, all his dreams were twistedly violent, but before they were mostly all just plain weird. The only one that he would say had some sort of message to it was the shared dream he and Connor had that led them to become the Saints, but that one had been blatantly clear.

"Destroy all that which is evil, so that which is good may flourish."

Both he and Connor knew right there and then what that meant; God had given them a mission to cleanse the world of evil. It was the path they were meant to take, their destiny. This, however, was not so clear-cut.

Murphy considered the possibility that the dream was a message meant for both him and Connor but quickly dismissed it. For one thing, if it was meant for both, wouldn't they both have had the dream? Connor hadn't said anything about having a dream about a (gorgeous) woman calling to him from across the desert and being unable to reach her. That, for sure, Connor would have told him about. Any dream his brother had involving a beautiful woman was always relayed back to Murphy, mostly because dream conquests were all they had to brag about anymore. Their status as wanted criminals had really put a damper on their sex lives.

For another thing, it was the emphasis on the word you that made Murphy convinced that this message was meant for him alone. He specifically had to find this girl, wherever she was, but he couldn't. The sand held him in place and kept him from getting to her. What did it mean? What was keeping him from getting to her? Was this an actual person he was supposed to find or was it a metaphor?

Murphy glared at the ground as he kept running through all of this in his mind. He was certain he was never going to figure it out. The most he could do was sit there frustrated and twirl dead blades of grass between his fingers. At least the repetitive thoughts were keeping his thoughts off the cold and rain.

It was late, getting close to midnight. Murphy and Connor had decided to spend the night camping out in the fields, half because they wanted to keep an eye on the herd during the storm, half because they needed something to break up the day-to-day monotony of their lives in hiding. They were joined by their sheepdog, Hannibal, who was currently curled up next to Murphy's left side. To his right was Connor, who was just as silent as Murphy was as he stared into the fire. His silence wasn't that surprising to Murphy. Things had been silent between them a lot lately. What did surprise him was the moment that Connor finally decided to break that seemingly unending silence.

"Alright, what's got your panties in a twist?" Murphy looked at Connor with wide eyes, completely taken off-guard by the question.

"Nothing," Murphy said easily.

"Oh, bullshit," Connor said. "You only get that look on your face when you're pissed about something. Now spit it out before I make you."

"It really is nothing," Murphy assured his brother. "Just a little, frustrated thinking about something is all."

"What?"

"A dream I had." Murphy hoped that short explanation would suffice. Thankfully, Connor turned to stare back at the fire after he said that.

"Just try to put it out of your mind. That's how I've been dealing with it." Murphy knew exactly what he was talking about.

"It wasn't a nightmare, though I have those too," he admitted. "It was actually a pretty good dream. I just don't understand what it means."

"Regardless, it's still probably best not to think about it too much." It was clear that was all Connor was going to say on the matter, so Murphy dropped his blades of grass and joined his brother in staring emptily at the fire.

A silence once again formed between them but given the fact that he wasn't allowed to focus on the dream anymore, Murphy found the silence suffocating and ultimately had to say something – anything – before it drove him insane.

"Hey," he said. "Do you remember that time Rocco…"

"What do you reckon that is?" Murphy looked up to see Connor pointing at something in the distance. Following the direction of his brother's finger, he saw the flash of a red light moving up one of the many hills that surrounded their land. "Who the fuck is out on the moors by himself this fucking late?"

Something about the scene must have seemed sketchy to Hannibal, too, as Murphy felt the dog shift away from where he was pressed up against his side and watched as the animal took off in the direction of the moors. Murphy and Connor quickly got to their feet and followed the dog, calling for the canine to come back.


Friday, November 2nd, 2001

"Find me."

Murphy awoke with those two words reverberating through his mind. Find her. That's what he needed to do. He needed to find her. That much-made sense now, but the rest of it didn't. Who was she supposed to be? Where was he supposed to find her? Why did he need to find her? It was all so cryptic and any time he tried to garner more information from the dreams, he only ended up with more questions than answers. It frustrated him to no end, especially since it was beginning to feel like he was running out of time. Why he felt this way, he wasn't sure. Murphy just knew that if he didn't hurry up and figure out this dream something horrible was going to happen.

That wasn't the only thing that had Murphy concerned. The night he and Connor went camping out during the storm, the boys had followed the dog up a hill to find the animal digging up a freshly dug grave containing the body of a young boy. They told their uncle, Sibeal, everything they saw that night and had him call the police to recover the body. They also asked him to investigate who had owned a lantern with a red light in town.

Once Sibeal had found the information that they needed Connor, Murphy, and their father went to confront the lantern's owner. When they arrived, the wife lets them in and confessed to them that her husband was responsible for the murder of the young boy they found in the moors and for the murders of several other young boys who had gone missing in the area, including their son's.

When the husband came home, Connor and Murphy held the man at gunpoint, but before either of them could fire the killing shot, the wife stood up, took their father's gun from where he had left it on the table, and shot her husband at point blank range. Satisfied that another evil man had been sent off for judgment and a grieving mother had gotten her revenge, Connor, Murphy, and their father helped the woman bury her husband in an unmarked grave in the moors – much like how his victims were disposed of – along with the red lantern.

In the weeks following this event, both brothers felt something stirring deep within them. Neither said anything about it, but with just one look at the other, they knew.

Then, one September morning their uncle had called them to meet with him at his church. When they arrived, Sibeal explained to them what had happened. A man had come in as a late-night confessor at the church. There was something clearly off about the man. He complained about hearing a voice in his head compelling him to do horrible things and begged the priest to help him. When Sibeal asked what sin it was the man needed to confess, the man revealed that he had kidnapped a woman and brutally raped her. When the man fled the confessional booth, Sibeal followed him out and got a good look at his face.

This, combined with the fact that the man gave the woman's name made it easy to identify him and track him down. As they confronted the man in the street he honestly seemed relieved as the two brothers placed their guns to the back of his head, thanking them for doing him the kind duty of being his executioners and begging for God's forgiveness as the two rounds entered the back of his head.

After this, the stirring feeling only became stronger and day by day. It was if they were being told they were needed somewhere else. It was just a feeling, but it was powerful, and Murphy couldn't help but wonder if it was in any way connected to the dreams he had been having. Considering that the dreams only started shortly before he started having these feelings, it made sense.

Murphy rolled over onto his side and stared at the Celtic cross tattoo on his right arm. It was the third tattoo he had ever gotten, the second tattoo he and Connor had gotten together, and the first tattoo he had gotten after moving to Boston. For some reason, Murphy couldn't help but feel drawn to that piece of the inked sink. In fact, he felt drawn to it a lot lately, continually scratching at it, tracing it, or just feeling the sudden urge to look at it. Although he had no explanation for it, he kept tracing the image of the cross, over and over until he started to lose feeling in the tip of his pointer finger. At first, it didn't make sense, but then all at once, it clicked.

That was the first tattoo he had gotten in Boston. They needed to go back to Boston! That's what was tying everything together! That was the place where he and Connor first became the Saints! That's why they were having that stirring feeling! That's where the dreams wanted him to go! Too elated to consider anything else, Murphy jumped out of bed and began to shake Connor awake.

"Connor! Con! C'mon, get up!" Connor let out an annoyed groan.

"What do you want, Murph?" Connor pushed away from the hands that were shaking him. "What time is it?"

"No idea, but you need to get up!"

"Why do I- Ah!" Connor was momentarily blinded when Murphy flipped on the light on his bedside table. "What the fuck, Murph?"

"We need to go, right now!" Impatient, Murphy grabbed a hold of Connor's arm and began to try to drag him out of bed.

"Ah, Murphy, slow down," Connor exclaimed. "You're not making any sense!" He was then dragged to his feet by his impatient brother.

"No, Connor, you don't understand," Murphy said, but Connor cut him off.

"Well, then explain it to me because you aren't making any goddamn sense!" Murphy let go of Connor's arm, took a calming breath, then looked his brother in the eyes.

"I figured out what that dream meant." His voice held no hesitation, just determination. "We have to go back to Boston." Connor narrowed his eyes at his brother.

"What dream? What are you talking about?"

"That dream that was bothering me the night we found that kid's body," Murphy clarified. "I figured out what it was trying to tell me. We have to go back to Boston."

Murphy went on to explain the events of the dream; the woman calling his name, being unable to reach her, and eventually drowning in the sand. The entire time a skeptical look remained on Connor's face.

"You're certain that's what the dream was telling you?" Connor questioned.

"Absolutely positive," Murphy affirmed.

"You do realize we're wanted for over two dozen murders over there," Connor pointed out. "It's too risky to go back there. Besides, how can you be certain that the dream was telling you to go to Boston?"

"It's just a feeling I have." Connor still didn't look convinced. "I know you've been feeling it too, Connor; the feeling that we're needed somewhere else and I just know, deep down, that it's Boston we're supposed to go back to. You can't tell me you haven't felt it, too. I've seen it in your eyes, Con." Connor was silent for a moment.

"You're right," he admitted. "I have had that feeling that we're needed somewhere else, but that doesn't mean we should immediately go back running to a place where we're wanted criminals."

"I wasn't suggesting that," Murphy said.

"Bullshit, you were going to drag me by the wrist across the fucking ocean if you had to." Murphy couldn't deny that. "Do you really feel like this is where we need to be?"

"Yes."

"Then we'll figure something out," Connor assured. "Just not right now. It's way too early in the fucking morning for that."

"Alright," Murphy agreed.

"Now go back to sleep." Connor then crawled back into his bed. Murphy did the same, bidding his brother goodnight over his shoulder. The same words that he woke up to echoed in his head as he fell asleep.

"Find me."


Yeah... That ending was a little rushed. Not my best work, but I know that the next chapter is better, so rest assured, this fic isn't gonna suck that much.

I have posted the extended authors note on my blog. Go to .com to check it out. Also, follow me on Twitter, DeviantART, Tumblr, and AO3. I have the same username on all sites.

Remember kids, always follow your dreams - even if they lead you to do something foolish with no purpose or direction (it was the best I could come up with, okay?)


This chapter was originally posted to FFN on 4/13/18.