Candra's Note: Okay, kiddies. Veritas here told me a bedtime story the other night. Wanna hear it? Okay. Once upon a time, Reedus ate a cupcake. And everyone talked about it for three weeks. Because they wanted to be the cupcake. The end. Anywho, here's the next chapter, try not t cry. I dare you.
VeritasVamp: I believe this is the LATEST we've stayed up for writing this story. And it's totally worth it when we get your reviews. Oh and, um, sorry...for this... Enjoy!
Warning: This story is rated Teen for intense violence.
Summary: (Exodus 20:5) You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the sins of the fathers on his sons.
Angels in Hell
Chapter Seven: Darkness and Death
Collaboration by VeritasVamp and Candra 'wolfgal97
The cameraman stayed on Connor as the two men took him by the arms, dragging him away from his brother. Connor didn't struggle. He just couldn't. He hoped none of the men would notice that Murphy was conscious. He would suffer anything if it would spare his brother. Panza crouched to look him in the eye. The Italian sneered at him, "Have you learned that lesson yet, Connor?"
Connor opened his mouth to throw a comment back in his face, but he knew better. So he just gritted his teeth and glared at Panza.
The Italian stood upright before Connor and half-smiled. "Seems so... For now."
Without warning Panza gripped Connor by the throat and forcibly shoved him to the ground. Connor saw stars when his back slammed into the cement floor. A sharp yelp of pain echoed in the small room. Connor managed to slide his feet out from under him, tilting his knees away from his attacker. Then Panza knelt on his chest...
Pain sent a bright flash to Connor's eyes, blinding him. A scream formed in the back of his throat. But it was strangled short, replaced with choked gasping. Then the punches to his face started... Hit. Hit. Panza held him down by the throat. He was defenseless against each hateful strike.
The Saint couldn't breathe. He couldn't scream or fight back. So he just took each blow in private torment. Connor had nearly blacked out before he was allowed to breathe again. Panza's hand let go of its grip from under his jaw. His knee came off Connor's battered chest.
Connor's eyes were still pinched shut as fresh blood poured from his nose and a new cut on his brow. He sucked in a breath and immediately was racked with a painful fit of coughing. But something felt off. Connor choked on the coughs, unable to stop the quiet sobs that blended with it. He swallowed and tasted the blood from the cut that had reopened in his mouth.
Murphy knew better to call out. Even if he wanted to, it would've been a challenge. But the sounds of Connor's quiet sobs of misery yanked on his heart. All he could do was watch, cracking his eyes open, offering his gaze to Connor, letting him know that he wasn't alone.
Murphy watched in silent horror as these men beat his brother to the point Connor could only wheeze as his body trembled on the cold ground. Silent tears fell from the darker twin's eyes, stinging the open wounds that already burned his chest. But the pain didn't matter. All that mattered was Connor.
And when he heard his brother's breath hitch painfully, he knew. He just knew. They were killing him, killing Connor. And Murphy couldn't allow that to happen, screw the consequences. He managed a barely audible whisper. " No..." Not his brother. They couldn't kill his brother.
Connor's eyes stared blankly at the low ceiling. He had only just managed to get his coughing under control when the men gathered to leave. Panza stopped. He stepped on Connor's chest increasing the pressure building there. He leaned over Connor and laughed, "Tell Murphy we'll see him soon."
Then Connor heard his brother's whispered protest. At first he thought they wouldn't hear, but the men stopped. They heard...
Panza glanced back over his shoulder, "Wait... What was that?"
Connor caught his breath. He avoided looking at Murphy as he maneuvered his way back to his knees. He would cover for Murphy, even if it killed him. Connor's voice was rough as blood filled his mouth. "I said, no. I won't tell him a thing..." He prayed the Italian would just buy the lie and walk out. Connor locked eyes with Panza hoping it would sell it better.
Murphy heard Connor lie for him. He knew that for speaking back, these men would attack him again. And Murphy also knew that Connor couldn't take another round of abuse. It wasn't an option. He had to silence his twin. In the strongest whisper he could manage, he rasped, "Con, shut up!" He just hoped... prayed that these men would leave his brother be...
It was all Connor could do to stay upright on his knees. His shoulders slouched forward pulling his wrists painfully against the zip-ties. Panza hadn't believed his lie. He turned back into the room, "No... That wasn't you."
Connor breathed through the terror, trying to keep it from surfacing. The Italian crossed the room, toward Murphy. By some miracle, Connor had had another tortured coughing fit just as Murphy whispered for him to shut up. So Panza hadn't hear him. But he still moved closer to the darker Saint.
Through great pain, Connor struggled to get in the way. He wanted to draw Panza back to him, away from Murphy. He spoke as firmly as he could manage, putting his Irish attitude in it this time. "Yes it was... My brother is unconscious yah sick bastards..."
Murphy tensed when Connor spoke again. He knew what his brother was doing. He knew Connor was trying to protect him. But if protection meant that Connor would die, he didn't want it. He would rather meet his dark fate. "It was me," he managed to speak a little louder, loud enough that he was sure Panza would hear him. "I said it."
Connor had turned his head to follow Panza. His mind was racing, screaming for Murphy to stop trying to protect him. And Panza had turned his head back to glare at Connor, "Don't you lie to me or I'll cut that tattoo..." Connor had just met his eyes with as much intensity. Then Murphy's spoke again. And there was no mistaking it this time. Connor flinched, his voice carried defeat. "No... Murph..."
Panza took a swift step to Connor and viciously backhanded the Saint. Connor's head snapped to side throwing him off his already shaky balance. He fell hard, a pained exhale escaping him. Connor's head was near his brother's whose weary blue eyes were barely open. Connor winced sadly at him, understanding why he did it.
Panza hissed in anger, calling the others back in. "Change in schedule... Get the camera over here."
Connor could hardly breathe laying on his side. He gasped a breath and screamed, "No!" A wheezing cough seized him. He curled in as the pain spread through his torso.
The camera followed Panza as he approached the darker twin. Though it obviously wasn't necessary, the other man came and wrenched Connor up to his knees, the Saint gasping for air at the motion. Panza followed suit, yanking on Murphy's dislocated shoulder, pulling him vertical as Murphy managed to choke off a strangled yelp of pain.
Panza took Murphy's jaw tightly in hand, a bruising grip crushing the Saint's cheekbones. Murphy glared defiantly into Panza's eyes as the Italian forced him to look away from Connor. Murphy saw a new anger in those dark eyes. He saw the will to kill. He saw that he was going to die, and it wasn't going to be pretty. He called out to Connor as best he could, wanting to shield his brother in this one last way, "S'okay, Con. Juss... Don't watch."
Panza removed his grip on Murphy's face long enough to deliver an unforgiving backhand to him. He grabbed at him again with a crushing force before Murphy even had the chance to spit the blood in his mouth out. Panza hissed darkly, "Oh he'll watch...or I'll kill you. Or maybe I will regardless."
Murphy just glared at him. It was over anyways. There was no way that he was coming out of this alive. He figured he might as well piss off as many people as he could going out, if only to get in the last word. "Go ahead an do it," his strangled voice dared. "Be a blessin' ta not have ta see yer ugly mug anymore."
Connor sagged in the grip holding him up on his knees. He was beginning to realize what was coming. His eyes flooded with an overwhelming sadness. Murphy's attitude was going to speed it up and Connor wasn't ready for that. He never would be. Connor's voice was raw and quiet. His lungs had a hard time giving him volume. "Shh, Murph... Don't."
Panza got in close to Murphy's face with his own. He spoke with cruelty. "'You must watch dear, it'll all be over soon...' Recognize those words?"
"So what if I do?" Murphy shot back. "Connor innit gonna watch dis," he said, prayed that his brother would for once, just listen to him. His time was at an end and the last thing he wanted was for Connor have to see it happen.
Panza backhanded Murphy with his free hand again. Connor winced at the brutality of it. He knew it would enrage the Italian but he wanted to back his brother up. So he did. "Whatever you want, brudder." Then Connor closed his eyes.
Murphy smirked through his pain as he reeled from the blow. His brother had done as he asked, and that just fueled Murphy's flame. He righted himself as best he could before grinning at Panza, his teeth stained red with his own blood. "So are ya gonna get started?" Murphy prodded. "I'm gettin' bored."
Panza snarled in Murphy's face before he punched him again. And again. And again. Murphy managed to stay upright on sheer will, all the while, a defiant glare stayed glued to his face. When Panza became bored with the lack of a response, he tried something new. He drove the tips of his fingers into the deepest cut marring Murphy's chest.
Murphy had no choice in the matter of even attempting to hide his agony. A terrible, inhuman scream ripped forth from his throat, the sound of utter misery. "A Thiarna, a chur chugam sa bhaile, anois!" Lord, take me home, now! Murphy cried on a single pained breath as he begged God for his own death...
Connor's eyes snapped open at his brother's tortured, roaring scream. Then Murphy's words registered... An unholy rage flooded through Connor. All his own pain slipped away to background noise. Connor unleashed a scream to rival his brother's. "NO!"
The fairer Saint violently arched his back. He struck the man behind him with the back of his head. The man exhaled abruptly with the hit. His hands released Connor to instinctively wrap around his ribs where Connor's head had hit him.
Connor was fueled by panic and rage. He got his feet under him and launched himself bodily toward Panza. He slammed into the Italian, knocking both he and Murphy to the floor. Connor ignored the glaring rage that lit Panza's face. He just hauled himself up and over his brother, shielding Murphy with his own body.
Murphy couldn't see. His vision had gone to black from the pain. He felt something warm and loud collide with him, knocking him to the ground. He somehow recognized the object as his brother. And though Murphy's body felt like it was burning in Hell, it didn't matter when his mind raced with the possibilities of consequences for Connor's protective actions...
Connor screamed with all the ferocity in his blood. "Yah keep yer hands off him!" Then he turned his eyes toward his brother's pained expression. Was this it? Was his twin about to... Terror took hold. "Murph! Look at me... Look at me right now!"
Murphy gasped for air, crushed under the heavy weight of his brother. He managed to speak around his panicked breaths. He feared for his brother's safety. He needed him to get away, to protect himself. "Con... go away... Get away..." He cried out in pain when Connor shifted against him, tearing at the cuts on his chest.
Connor's face was etched with horror when Murphy cried out in pain. And he was the cause. Connor hurried to lift his weight off his brother. The adrenaline had started to dissipate. Pain tore through him and wave after wave of violent coughing passed over him. He couldn't stop it even as blood began spilling from his lips. He gasped for air between the coughs.
Connor's eyes were shut against the pain washing over him. He never saw Panza stand and take a fistful of his hair. The Italian took a grip on Connor's arm as well and dragged the Saint away from his twin. Connor tried to protest but the blood in his mouth and throat.
Panza threw Connor back against the wall, it being the only reason the Irishman stayed upright. The Italian stuck a finger in Connor's bleeding face and growled with rage. "It seems only one thing will get through to you, Connor MacManus... Time for your 'dear brudder' to die..."
Murphy can't even move from the floor. He had no strength left at all, and he didn't even try for his pride's sake. He just turned his head to Connor, finding his brother's wide and fearful eyes. Murphy knew. Connor knew. Everyone knew. It was Murphy's time. And he accepted his fate, too weak to protest. He speaks to Connor, one last time, saying his goodbye. "Connor, I love ya. Be waitin fer ya..."
Connor's eyes locked on Murphy's. His body went slack. The adrenaline was gone, taking his fight with it. Tears streaked through the blood on Connor face. The Saint was crushed by despair. He spoke around the blood in his mouth. "Murphy... Don't go..."
Black plays at the edges of Murphy's vision. He knows that Connor will be the last thing he ever sees. His brother is bleeding, blood pouring from the corners of his mouth. Murphy's stomach drops, seeing his brother so battered. He knew he didn't look much better, himself. Still... he was sorry... Sorry that he was about to leave Connor by himself, the last thing he'd ever wanted. "I'm sorry I couldn't... couldn't be yer Macho Murph t'day, Connor..."
And Connor just couldn't beg his brother to stay any longer. Not in this torment. He relaxed against the wall. Against all internal protest, Connor had started to let go. To let go of Murphy... Connor's voice broke with tears. "S'alright brudder... I love yah, alright?" He swallowed to clear his throat of blood. Tears fell from his broken expression. "See yah soon..."
Panza knelt on Murphy's chest and pulled out that familiar knife of his. He glared down at the helpless man under him. A twisted smile spread across his face.
Murphy didn't look at Panza. He didn't look at the knife. All he could see was Connor crying for him and that just killed Murphy. He couldn't even take in the situation, that he could ever leave Connor hear alone, or at least until how long it took for these men to torture him to death.
Murphy hated himself. He hated that he was so weak. That he couldn't even put on a brave face for his brother when the end was here. He hated how pathetic he was. And he just couldn't say sorry enough... "Connor, I'm so sorry, brudder. Juss... don't watch dis... don't remember me like... like dis..." He didn't want Connor's last image of his prideful brother to be that of a bloody, beaten, broken man... And yet the tears still fell.
Connor kept eye contact with Murphy. He felt a rush of sadness fill him. Connor wanted to make Murphy understand he could never think of him as anything less than his fiery tempered, energetic brother. Always moving. Always loving.
Connor struggled to get the words out. Not for the emotion of it, but because the pain in his torso had dialed up a few notches in intensity. It took a lot of control to keep another cough at bay."I see you Murph... an' you're perfect... Ain'ta... thing wrong wit' yah."
Panza chuckled at Connor, mocking him. "Aww, how cute. But don't worry, Connor. You won't be seeing your 'brudder' any time soon. When I'm done..." The Italian lowered his chin, staring at Connor from under his dark brows. "...I'll keep you around for a good, long while."
Connor could feel the man's threatening gaze on him, but he refused to look away from Murphy. It was time to admit what he'd known for a while. He hadn't wanted Murphy to worry, but it that wouldn't matter much longer anyway.
Connor's face went blank, eyes half-closed but still on his condemned brother. His voice had a water-logged quality to it. "What does it matter? I have a punctured lung already. Time's running out."
Murphy's eyes went wide when Connor admitted the most horrible thing he could imagine. Connor... his protective, roof-jumping, plan-making twin was dying... Connor. His brother.
Murphy struggled with a new intensity with the grip on him. And though he fought with all he had, the fingers locked around his throat didn't allow him any movement.
Panza laughed at Murphy's weak struggles, only putting more force on the doomed Saint. "An interesting development... I see you two love each other very much. New plan...," he crowed, shooting Connor a dark look.
Connor's heart dropped with dread. He watched Panza. Waiting... He struggled to keep another coughing fit back. Instead he tilted his head back and swallowed again.
Panza's eyes studied Connor's face in anticipation. He revealed the plan he was about the change. "I'll NOT skin your brother as I had previously decided..." There was the expression he was looking for...
Connor blinked in shock. His eyes rounded and his lips pressed together. But he didn't say a word. He just waited in tortured silence for his brother's sentence to be announced.
The Italian winked at Connor. Actually winked. Then he finished what he started. "Instead, I'll allow him to share your fate..." Connor followed the knife with his eyes. His heart rate accelerated in horror as Panza lowered the knife to Murphy's chest just above his heart. The tip dragged lightly across the bare skin, down to his left side.
Panza's dark eyes were on his victim, staring almost hungrily where the tip touched bruised ribs. "Time's up for Saint Murphy the martyr..." Without another moment, the Italian slowly pressed the blade between two ribs and into Murphy's side. The blade sank deep into the Saint's lung. Panza just held the moment. Savoring it...
The howl of an anguished animal shattered the silence of the air. It wasn't the sound of a man screaming, it was the final cry of a creature in the most pure agony. It was the call of death.
Pain riddled Murphy's entire being. It consumed him entirely as blood began to pool in his mouth. It was utter agony, knowing that his only relief was death. And his death would be a slow one, drowning on his own blood... gasping for air that his body couldn't take in...
Connor's eyes went wide in shock. His mind took a second to comprehend what he had just witnessed. Then his breathing sped up, exasperating his punctured lung. Adrenaline coursed through his body, empowering action. "Murph!" He screamed and struggled to his brother's side. His own agony became peripheral at the site and sound of blood filling his brother's mouth.
Panza didn't stop Connor's movement toward his dying twin. He just twisted the blade and pulled it out as slowly as it had gone in. The cameraman stepped in closer.
Blood spilled out around Murphy's lips. He couldn't breath... he couldn't... couldn't focus... He could feel himself going, the life draining out of him. He was about to submit to the darkness when he felt Connor at his side, the blurry view of his brother the only thing keeping him from letting go...
Connor ignored everyone but Murphy. Panza. His nameless lackey. The cameraman. None of them matter anymore. Nothing but Murphy... He got close to him, the way Murphy had done for Rocco the night he died. "Murphy! Please, please brudder...hold on!"
Connor's desperate screams provoked a violent series of coughs. Blood poured down his chin and neck. When Connor gasped for air, he could hardly get enough. Only for a brief moment did the fairer Saint realize how terrifying this death was. Then he knew Murphy must be feeling the same thing. He just cried, searching for awareness in his brother's wandering eyes.
Murphy could hear Connor, but he sounded so far away... like when they'd first been brought here and they'd been separated. How long ago had that been? Hours? Days? It didn't matter. It would all be over in a matter of minutes.
Murphy's eyes searched through the fog to find his brother. When he did, Connor's shape was funny, blurry at times as sharp at others. It hurt Murphy's head to take in, but he didn't care. Connor was here with him as he choked out his painful words... "Can't... Can't breath... Con... Wanna die."
Connor was too horrified to cry. He just blinked in shock at his brother's words. He understood, but he wasn't ready. Connor just wanted a little more time... "No, no...please? Juss hold on brudder..." He lost Murphy's eyes. They wandered, focusing on something unseen behind him. This sent a wave of panic through Connor. "Murph?! Please, juss hold on!" He choked on a throat-full of blood, again.
Murphy wasn't there anymore... he wasn't I'm that basement. He was somewhere else... going home. All these beautiful things, he had to share it with Connor. He could feel his brother with him but couldn't see him... "Con? I see... I see home... Ireland... Con, it's so bright... Con? Do ya... Do ya got... got yer rope...? Where... Where's me knife?... Roc? Rocco?... Con, do'ya see... see Roc?"
Connor wanted desperately to put pressure on the wound but his hands were still firmly bound behind him. The three men stood surrounding the Saints, watching this unfold. Enjoying it. Connor gasped as man drowning just to be able to speak, "I don't...see Roc, Murph... H-how's he lookin'?" He forced himself to calm down, knowing his panic was making things worse.
Murphy coughed blood, the red liquid spattering on Connor's face, but he couldn't see that. His breath was wheezy, but he didn't care about that. He cared about the tremor of fear in Connor's voice. He had to do one last thing to calm him... make this easier. "He looks... better than us..." Murphy admitted, his view of Rocco waiting calmed him in the slightest way. "He's callin'... fer me, Con... Says he... he doesn't hate me... fer da basement..."
Connor felt himself begin to accept this... This was it. He felt his brother's blood on his face and his own tears joined it. His gathered the strength to speak again. "Aw, o' course he wouldn't hate'cha..." Connor's cough turned into a sob. He choked that back too. "I know he wants ta see yah, Murph, but can yah stay juss a minute longer fer me?"
Murphy hears the plea in his brother's voice. He'd almost never heard Connor beg for anything. Ever. He was so strong... and here he was, scared for Murphy's sake. Murphy tried to find him, to see him again, but the blue of Connor's eyes seemed just that much dimmer... "Con? Con, I'm... I'm tryin... Can't stay much... longer..." Murphy admitted weakly. But he had to say one last thing, Connor had to know... "I love ya..."
Something in Connor began to settle. He hated to make his brother suffer longer on his behalf. He wasn't ready, but he had to let Murphy go. His twin. His best friend...was dying. Connor swallowed back more tears. His voice was loving, meant to soothe Murphy. As if he were just having a hard time falling asleep. "Alright brudder, I love yah too..." Connor kept his crying quiet. "I'll tell Da yah love him too..."
Murphy was fading... The sound of his brother's voice kept him calm though as he went to meet his maker. He just had to know... had to know that Connor would be okay with being left here alone. He used the last of his strength to ask weakly, "Con? Can... Can I go... Go home now? Please? It... It hurts..."
Connor's heart broke for his twin. He leaned closer, miraculously calm. Connor touched his forehead to Murphy's temple and spoke quietly into his brother's ear. "Alright Murphy, yah can go..." He grimaced in a silent cry. He calmed again. "Tell Roc I'm sorry... Murph? Juss know, I love yah..."
Murphy finally wrapped his oxygen-deprived mind around what was happening. He was leaving. Leaving Connor. His brother and his best friend. How could he...? He just couldn't fathom that. So he asked, voice exposing his fear. "Are ya... ya comin' wit me? Con... I don't wanna... wanna leave ya..."
Taking a wheezing breath, Connor coughed more blood. It took him a few seconds to clear his throat enough to speak. When he did, his voice carried his sadness. Connor was preparing himself to die. "Almost brudder... I'm almost ready..." He lower his head to the floor, resting it beside Murphy's ear. "Yah wanna wait fer me, Murph? We can go together?"
Murphy somehow managed to move his dying body just that much closer to Connor's, finding that there wasn't much warmth left him his brother's skin. His head bumped gently with his twin's, the two snuggled close in their final moments. "Course I'll... I'll wait... Can't... Can't leave ya now... can I? Been stuck wit ya all... all me life." Murphy teased his last, always trying to make light of things, even to the end. But then gravity of the situation fell down on him. "Tis been... a good life, Con... Wouldn't change... a thing..." he admitted as his breathing slowed...
Distant footfalls echoed somewhere beyond the room. Connor was only vaguely aware of the sound. It seemed irrelevant to him, compared to Murphy's last words. But then an odd, familiar sensation came over him. A memory of another basement years ago...
The footsteps stopped somewhere nearby. Connor waited. A prayer on his lips... The door suddenly crashed and splintered open, nearly ripped from its hinges. When Connor craned his head toward the sound he knew his prayer had been answered.
Da stood in the doorway. Two guns already in hand...
