Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Boondock Saints and or any of Troy Duff's characters. This is purely fan art and appreciation of the wonderful and talented writer/director and actors involved in the amazing Boondock series. All OFC's are original and stem from my own imagination as is the story plot and drama that goes along with this story.

Author's note: This is my first Saints fic and I hope I do Connor and Murphy justice with this story. The story begins a short time after the brothers were arrested in the second movie.


Chapter Two

"Tensions are high as Connor and Murphy MacManus known as The Saints are to return to Suffolk County Courthouse today, the very courtroom where they executed Mob boss Don Papa Joe Yakavetta. The public outcry to release The Saints has come to a fevered pitch."

A group of attorneys escorted by county sheriffs step out of a SUV and walk past Sally McBride as she continues her report. One on the Attorneys replies, "Allegedly executed Yakavetta." A sea of media surrounds the group as they disappear into the courthouse.

"There you have it folks. The defense of The Saints, rooted in the fact that did they or did they not kill Yakavetta."

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The Suffolk County prison bus holding Connor and Murphy, rolled along the avenue. People lined both sides of the street, holding up signs and screaming. Most of the people cheered for them while a handful called for their punishment. A group of women yelled marriage proposals and declarations of love.

"Tis all for us?" Murphy questioned.

"Aye it tis." Connor nodded as he leaned towards the window.

One woman lifted her shirt flashing the boys.

Connor blew her a kiss. He looked at the guard and with a smile he said, "If we get a conjugal visit, could you get her number?"

"I don't know about her numbers but I'd say her letters are double D." Murphy added with a raise of his eyebrows.

"Settle down!" The guard in the front of the bus barked at the boys.

They were unloaded and lead into the Courthouse in shackles. Connor lifted his chained hands in victory. Chaos erupted as the MacManus brothers were forced inside the building.

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xXx

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The trial went on for three weeks with the media being banned from the court room. Connor and Murphy were dressed in suits, clean shaven and seated at the table with their group of lawyers, paid for by an unknown source.

"Council, the Defense rests its case. What say you?" The Judge was getting tired of this case. Three weeks of next to no witness and shaky testimonies. Although he wouldn't admit it, he thought there wasn't a crime committed here, only justice given to a group of men that well deserved it, handed out by two snot nosed boys.

"Rest what case, your honor? A man died right here in this very courthouse, in this very room in front of a Judge, a group of under oath jurors, and countless other witnesses. And yet I can't seem to get a God damn, one of them to admit they were here or say they saw who was doing the shooting."

"I object!" the defense lawyer jumped to his feet. "You've called your witnesses and they were unable to identify the shooters. The man described by Lucy Hardiman was a grey haired man. Do you see that man in this courtroom?"

Connor and Murphy crossed themselves at the mention of their father. The judge hammered the gavel against the wood block calling order to the courtroom. "Council my chambers, now! Five minute recess!" The judge stood and the packed courthouse jumped to its feet.

Ten minutes later and after some very angry screaming coming from the judge's chambers, everyone was back in the courtroom awaiting the final instructions to the jury.

Connor leaned over and whispered in Murphy's ear. "Is é ár ndán suas leo."

Murphy repeated the statement, "Aye, our destiny is up to them now."

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The music played and the sisters danced, their curls bouncing around their faces.

"What the fuck kind of dancing is this?"

"Sit down Anthony. We must never forget the Irish pricks that took down this organization! Watch the dance, learn it. Because from now on you will live breathe and shit Irish until it comes out of your fucking eyeballs!"

The violin died down and all that remained was the beat. The sound of their stomping feet echoed throughout the building. Completely in step the sisters raised their left hands placing their palms together, they moved in a circle shoes tapping against the linoleum. Kiernan looked into the eyes of her sister Morgan. Wordlessly they pulled the guns from underneath the pleats of their skirts. Without missing a beat, they executed everyone in the room.

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Rumors swirled that in under six hours the jury had a verdict. The ever present media scrambled to get the closest shot at the doors should they open. A bailiff ordered quiet in the hallway as another bailiff announced "all rise" inside of the courtroom. The jury filed into the box and took a seat. A few minutes later Judge Potter took the bench and asked. "Have you reached a verdict?"

The Jury spokeswoman stood and answered yes. The verdict was delivered to the judge.

"What say you?"

"On the count of first degree murder in the case of Don "Papa Joe" Yakavetta… Not guilty."

The court room erupted as not guilty was given for the rest of the counts. Connor and Murphy stood and hugged each other, then shook the hands of their council. As word spread out into the hall and onto the streets and the room became a flurry of activity Eunice stood up in the back of the courtroom and left.

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Blood pooled and spread out from the body. Kiernan stepped over it, her tap shoe clicking on the tile. Morgan crossed the arms over the chest of one of the men. She dipped her thumb into his blood, and smeared a cross onto his forehead before placing a medallion onto each of his eyes.

"In the name of the father, son and holy ghost."

Kiernan stood behind Morgan and repeated in their native tongue "In ainm an mac athair, agus Ghost naofa" as she crossed herself.