Author's note: Well, lookit that Eris is a dirty dirty liar...lol. anyways sorry that i couldn't get this to you yesterday...i ran into some trouble. anyways, here it is! chapter 11, and let me know if you guys think it's working, if it flows okay. things like that! and am i doing Smecker justice? i'm really worried about that.

Disclaimer!: i don't own BDS, or the song Yellow Butterfly, by meg and dia, which i based Blaine's past off of.

Special!Dislcaimer: i don't own Ransom, who is mentioned below, he belongs to KZOMBI3, who's also got a BDS fanfic out there, "Pog mo thoin!" it's amazing, and you should totally check it out. i mean, it's honest to God one of the funniest things i've ever read. thanks KZOMBI3 for letting me play with ransom!

Chapter 11: The Twins, The Teen, and The Truth

*Connor*

"Ow, fuck!" I mumbled as my lolling head smacked hard against the side of Smecker's passenger seat window. He laughed under his breath. Glad he thought it was funny.

Shit I was wiped out. Last night couldn't have been any harder to deal with.

"What the fuck do we do now?" I asked Murphy, head reeling from the smell of the blood in our apartment. How many lives have I taken, and I still hate the smell of blood? Murphy was attacking his nails like a fat woman would a piece of cake.

"I have a plan," he started "But I don't think yer goin ta like it."

"Don't really have many choices right now do we?"

"No, suppose not. Tina told me where I can find a few of dese Richardson fuckers, and I've checked it out a few times, and sure enough, there's always at least one dere. You can take Blaine and get somewhere safe, and I'll have a chat with a Richardson."

"Yer right, I fucking hate dat idea." I growled. "Splittin up is da worst possible scenario ye could've thrown out dere."

"Actually, I do believe it's our only fuckin choice. Or should we leave Blaine here why you and me go do dis, on yer fucked up leg?"

"Dere's nothing wrong wit me leg!"

"Prove it! Get Blain and yerself ta Tina's. She said if we needed help, she'd help us out. So get the fuck over there." Murphy ordered me. He fucking ordered me.

"Don't ye think she'll wonder why I'm showing up on her doorstep nearing two in da morning, with a mutilated teenager?"

"Actually no, she'll invite ye in, and she won't ask a single question." he told me. He fingered the strap of the duffle bag that was over his shoulder.

"I don't like this Murphy."

"Aye, I'm not a fan of it meself, but we need answers. And tis da only way I can think ta get them." he turned and walked from me, stopping at the door to grab his rosary, then he walked out.

Fuck a duck stuck in muck!

I turned my attention back towards Blaine, who was unconscious her back still slowly bleeding. I grabbed some rags and pressed them against the cuts, I had to wait until I stanched the bleeding to move her. My other had was busy plugging Smecker's number into the cell phone.

Murphy's prediction had been spot on, when Tina had answered the door, her eyes were huge and shock was in all her features, but she just moved aside and let me come in. When I had semi-explained the situation, she had just nodded and lead me to one of the two rooms in her apartment, and laid Blaine down of the bed.

"She's gonna need stitches." Tina had told me, staring at the words on her back. "And soon, before they get infected."

So, after asking Smecker if he knew how to get stitches, off the books of course, without having to go near a hospital, he grimaced. But lead me to his car.

"Where we goin?" I yawned, trying to keep my eyes open. It was almost four in the morning, and my body was pissed that I was keeping it going.

"I'm going to cash in an IOU from a friend. Might be able to help us." he answered, maneuvering through the empty streets.

"Ye have friends like dat?"

"Not exactly a friend."

"Huh?" I asked. Then he pulled up to park, and I looked out the window. "Ah, gotcha."

We walked into the building, which was admittedly much creepier then it was in the daytime, until we found the door that reminded me of the door to a meat locker. Smecker knocked a few times and we heard a muffled answer. Smecker opened the door and lead me inside first, puss.

"Hey Smecker," Mika was looking behind her shoulder, her body facing a table, and I could see the blue-tinted feet on the far end. I shivered. "And, Connor right?" she smiled, looking at me. I smiled back.

"Aye, nice ta see ye lass."

"So Smecker, I'm glad you're here, although confused. How did you get here so fast. I just put in my request to talk to you, like twenty minutes ago."

"Talk to me? What for?"

"This." she stepped away from a table, to revel a man with a scar on his face that stretched from one ear, through his mouth, to the other ear. And with his eyes blown out of his face. I'm pretty sure I turned about as pale as humanly possible, and Smecker glanced from the body to me.

"What else did you find?" he asked.

"Well, CSU thought it might be a copy-cat, since they couldn't find any pennies, but the pennies are right here." She handed Smecker a dish, with two pennies sitting in jellified blood. I was glad I hadn't eaten in the last six hours. "Turns out, they were hidden in the sockets, stuck on a few pieces of shattered skull. Weird huh?"

"Very weird." Smecker agreed. He looked about as good as me. "So, it was the Saints then?"

"Actually, no I don't think so." she responded again. "See, with the Saints, there's gun A and gun B right? And the bullets crisscross in the skull, come out opposite eyes right?" She received a nod from Smecker, and I had to stop myself from nodding. "But with this one, bullets A and B went straight trough. So I think you have someone trying to get away with murder here. Everything else is perfect though. Right down to the pennies. Maybe your boys down at SBPD are letting too much slip to their press buddies." she pulled off her gloves with a sickening snap, and me and Smecker both jumped. She gave us that sweet as sugar look again. "And since there's no way you got my request, what did you come here at four in the morning to talk about. And with your life partner no less."

"I ain't his fucki-"

"Now now sweetie, no need to get upset." Smecker interrupted me. I glared at him, but he ignored me, choosing to focus on the small Asian-esque woman in front of him. "I need to cash in my IOU."

"Now? I get off in like twenty minutes. Can it wait?" she asked. Me and Smecker looked at each other.

"It's kinda an emergency." I told her, scratchin my head. Her green orbs narrowed behind her glasses.

"What exactly do I have to do?" she asked.

"Come with us and you'll see." Smecker told her.

"WHAT? I'M NOT DOIN THAT!" Mika yelled at Smecker. We'd gotten her to come to Tina's place with us on curiosity alone, however once we explained that we wanted her to stitch up a girl's back…well…she didn't take it so well.

"Come on Mika, it's not that hard." Smecker sighed.

"Then you do it!"

"What's da big deal?" I asked. She turned on me, eyes on fire. Goddmanit. I'm fucking havin a Murphy's Law day it looks like. I thought to myself.

"The big is, one, I'm just an intern. I'm not technically a doctor yet. And if I do this and something goes horribly wrong, poof, there goes almost seven years of med school. And two, she's not dead. She's alive. I don't work with the living." she reached for her bag and pulled out some thread at a needle. "See that thread? It's not the kind they use at the hospital, because that kind is for holding skin together. Mine's thick, because it's used for sewing muscles back together. The stitches will probably hurt-"

"Da infection'll be a wee bit worse den a few stitches!" I argued back. She raised an eyebrow at me.

"Who is she anyways?"

"Me little sister." I answered. "Please, lass." I whispered the last part, she growled, but walked towards Blaine and pulled up a stool. Her eyes scanned Blaine's back. Smecker opted to leave the room then, I wish I could, but I didn't wanna leave Blaine here, or Mika alone for that matter.

"What happened to her?" Mika asked, pulling out a long line of thread. I collapsed down on the floor, and leaned against the wall.

"We're not really sure, we're thinkin some gang initiation or somethin." I answered, head lolling again. Mika snorted.

"Yeah, right. You expect me to believe that?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Because, it was Halloween. It could've been anyone, and you immediately jump to the conclusion it was a gang. That's strange."

Oh brilliant, she's a fuckin Einstein. Just what we fuckin need. I growled mentally.

"Strange?"

"Yeah, tells me that there's more to the story then you let on. What's the real story?" she looked at me questioningly, sterilizing her needle.

"Tis a long story."

"I got time." she smiled at me. I smiled back. The lass was kinda cute. In an Asian-doctor-schoolgirl way.

"M'fraid I don't. I'm tired as all hell. And it would probably come out in a non-coherent mix of Spanish and German. So fer yer sake, I best not."

"Avoiding the subject huh?" she asked me, as her hands started weaving through the cuts on Blaine's back. I scoffed.

"Why didn't ye become a cop?"

"Pays more to be a doctor, besides, there's no way my Otosan would've paid for police academy." she laughed. Huh, so she was Japanese. Well, partly at least.

"Doctor run in da family?"

"Either a doctor like Dad, or a hippie like Mom. I opted for the higher paying of the two." she smiled, then looked at me. "You're good at that"

"What?" I asked, the picture of innocence.

"Twisting the subject around. Controlling the conversation."

"Yer damn hard ta trick."

"Yeah, I know." She smiled. "So, full story?"

"How about I tell ye da story later today? Let me buy ye a drink?" I asked. She smirked.

"You want to cheat on Smecker with me?"

"I'm not his fuckin life partner or whatever!" I argued, she snickered.

"I think he likes you."

"I really don't think he does."

"Well, to each his own then." she smiled at me. I narrowed my eyes.

"You're good at it too."

"What?" she looked at me again, picture perfect innocence.

"Controlling da conversation. You're pretty good yerself." I responded. She winked at me.

"I can't tonight, I have to catch up on my sleep, because I have work tomorrow. But Tuesdays, I don't work Tuesdays. Sound good?"

"Aye, do ye know where McGinty's is?" I questioned. She raised an eyebrow.

"Do I look like I spend a lot of time in Irish bars?"

"Good point, can I pick ye up at da workplace?"

"Sure."

"…Outside right?" I added. She laughed.

"Yeah, you don't have to see anymore bodies." she answered, still laughing. I sighed in relief.

"Seven?"

"Sure."

"Den it's a date." I smiled. She smiled back.

"Don't worry, I won't tell Smecker."

*Murphy*

I yawned and jogged up the stairs towards Tina's apartment. I'd hoped that my brother had been smart enough to do what I told him and go to Tina's in the first place. I readjusted the duffle bag full of my pennies, guns, casings and bloody clothes. Because I hadn't been in very sound mind last night, I hadn't grabbed an extra pair. So I had run back to the apartment and grabbed the first two things I could, and a bottle of whiskey, because me and Connor needed a fucking break. Turns out I grabbed a white shirt, and basketball shorts. I was freezing.

The closer I got to Tina's door, the more prominent the smell of incense became. I would have hated living in this building, but from what I could remember, everyone here was either an artist, Egyptian immigrant or dug addict. Tina's kind of people. I rounded the corner to her apartment and almost ran Smecker over. I fell, landing on my ass, while he just side-stepped me and smirked.

"Love the new look there, Shaq. I think you should keep it."

"Awh fuck yerself. So Connor made it here alright?"

"Yeah."

"And what about Blaine, is she okay?"

"She's being stitched up right now."

"Thank God." I mumbled, and got up. "Thanks for yer help Smecker. Lord knows we need it." Smecker nodded.

"Anytime, but let's try and keep it to a minimum, don't need anyone getting suspicious."

"Agreed." I shook his hand and kept moving. I was floored again when I saw Tina leaning against her door frame, and unlit smoke and lighter in her hand. I became a little jealous when I saw the lighter. It was silver and had an Ankh engraved into it. I still had the cheap thing with the cherries on it. Tina stared intently at the smoke, mumbling to herself.

"Stupid…..need…damn…." She muttered, completely unaware that I was standing there.

"Still talking to yerself dere Tina?" I broke her concentration and she turned a little red.

"Old habits die hard."

"Aye." I nodded, pulling out a smoke of my own. Tina immediately tossed me her lighter as she had done before, then looked confused when the lighter left her hands. I was just grateful I didn't have to pull out my gay one. "Apparently, dey die really hard." I half mumbled, her eyes cut to me. Shit her eyes always tweaked me out. They were dark brown, almost black really, and her makeup made them more dramatic. She used dat same eyeliner stuff dat the real ancient lasses used, Coal or Khol or something like dat. And she added gold shimmer or something to the lids. Her seven bangles twinkled as her hands moved to her hips.

"And that means?"

"Some die harder den others is all." I shrugged and tossed her back her lighter. My inner voice was telling me not to be an asshole, but I honest to God couldn't stop myself. It was the only way I could face her…especially seeing how we had ended.

"Really?"

"Aye, like, I can't quit smoking if me brother's life depended on it, and ye won't stop talkin' to yerself as long as ye live." I blew out smoke.

"You're so sure of that?"

"I know ye Tina." I answered. She scoffed, but let it drop.

"Where were you? It's like almost seven a.m."

"Had something I had to do afterwards."

"Go to church?" she asked. This time my eyes cut to her. A perfect sneer contorted her features.

"I know you Murphy."

"Yeah right." I muttered. She snickered.

"Want me to take a crack at it? Hmmm you went to church, because you had to have the guilt of whatever you did washed away before you faced the bad situation, because you're still a firm believer in karma. But more of the reason is, you didn't want to face this, because it scares you. Not knowing scares you, and not bein able to control scares you. Buuuuuuuuut-" she stretched her word out. "The intensity of your emotions right now scare you the most. So you ran and hide." I clenched my jaw and mustered up a glare. Tina gave me a fabulous shit-eating-smirk.

"Can I get past ye?" I mumbled. She let out a half laugh.

"Guess old habits really do die hard." but she got out my way, and let me pass. I pushed into the apartment, and found Connor with his leg up on Tina's coffee table. He looked at me and glared.

"Next time, ye have ta drag the mutilated lass 'cross town, ye have ta go ta the morgue at four in da morning, and ye have ta deal with being labeled Smecker's 'life partner'" he growled at me. "And what the fuck, dat's my shirt! Ye little bastard." he put his hands over his eyes. "Yer a leech ye are." he went to glare at me again, and I held of the bottle of whiskey. A smile instantly crossed his face.

"Who do ye love?" I asked him.

"Why, I never said I stopped lovin ye little brother, jus that yer a little bastardly leech." he responded. I cuffed his head, and took a swig. He followed suit.

"What about yer pain pills."

"Haven't had the chance ta take one taday. So I figgr a little whisky'll do da trick." he smiled and took another pull, then handed it back to me.

The shit burnt, but it warmed up my body, which was freezing. Connor and I passed it back until the thing was nearly gone. So were we, so we didn't hear the footsteps.

Blaine staggered over too us, looking a lot like one of the zombies from a TV movie. Her hair was matted with blood, and there was dried blood on her face and arms. Her eyes were cold and hard.

I thought I was going to piss myself.

She flopped down in a chair across from us, wrapping the blanket around herself and gestured for the bottle. Connor gave it to her immediately. She took two swallows before looking at us.

"So," she croaked, her voice crackling. "What the fuck was that?"

*Blaine*

I was in a horrible mood, but I sure as hell had the right to be. I was going to get answers now, even if it killed me. Actually, I wanted to cry, but that could wait until I knew why I was crying. I glared at the two of them, who looked at each other.

"Truth boyos." I spat. "Now." Connor bowed his head, but Murphy bristled.

"Ye go first."

"Excuse me?" I growled. He grabbed the bottle from me and took a drink.

"Ye. Go. First." he stated as if I were retarded.

"What are you talking about?"

"Yer lyin ta us too." he pointed at me, then handed Connor the bottle.

"Am I?"

"Aye, ye won't tell us why you were in the hospital in da first place."

"Yes I did."

"Aye, ye attempted suicide, but ye said ye weren't tryin ta kill yerself. But dat's a lie." Connor finally joined in. "Dere's three of those scars. One maybe you could've pulled off as an accident. But not all three." I felt my body go rigid with fear.

"My lie didn't get you cut up like a fucking piece of meat."

"Ye admit it's a lie den?"

"Sure. Whatever."

"Den how can we trust ye, if ye don't trust us?" Connor asked, handing me the bottle. I groaned.

"Fine, why don't we do this? We'll play 'Tell Your Deep Dark Secret To The Group'" I hissed. "Sound fun?" they looked at each other.

"Ye still go first."

"Oh fuck no. You go now." I growled. Apparently I must've looked really scary, because they winced, and nodded.

"Fine," Connor sighed, trying to gather his wits or something. "Alright, do ye know those people on the news…da ones who….uhhh….."

"Kill people." Murphy rolled his eyes. "The ones who kill people."

Whoa whoa whoa….kill people I just narrowed my eyes at them.

"The Saints?" Murphy held up a hand. "Wasted 22 criminals, and Yakavetta at his own trial?"

"Holy….fucking…shit." I whispered as I realized what they were telling me.

They were the Saints.

But that couldn't be possible, not my boyos. My boyos were idiots, they liked their coffee black, only ordered half cheese, half pepperoni, couldn't clean for shit. They weren't killers…they couldn't be killers.

"She's taking it better den Rocco" Connor whispered to Murphy. Murphy nodded. I jumped out of my chair.

"WHAT THE FUCKING HELL IS THIS? YOU CHOOSE TO HIDE THIS FROM ME? THIS LITTLE PIECE OF INFORMATION! CHRIST ALMIGHTY! YOU'RE FUCKING KILLERS, AND YOU DON'T TELL ME? JESUS! I FUCKING RISKED MY ASS FOR THE TWO OF YOU! I MEAN, CONNOR, YOU DIDN'T MENTION THIS AT ALL ON YOUR LOOPY PILLS! YOU TELL ME EVERYTHING FROM YOUR FIST TIME TO THE FACT THAT YOU HAD A THING FOR A GUY NAMED RANSOM!"

Connor couldn't have turned a darker red, then if I had painted his face that color.

"Oh I fuckin knew!" Murphy cried.

"Everyone's fuckin attackin my sexuality today." he grumbled. "I'm fucking sick of it."

I flopped back down in my chair, my back unwilling to hold me up any longer. I stared at the two of them. They were killers. That wasn't possible. Not just killers either, like…seriously messed up religion killers.

"Lass?" I snapped back into focus, and saw Connor and Murphy staring at me. "We're still us Blainey."

"Who attacked me?" I asked. They sighed.

"We're honestly not sure."

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Aye, we think it might me a gang, but we're not sure." Connor nodded. "We're tryin to figure it out."

"What did they carve on my back?"

"A bible verse, and a frowny face."

"Wow." I whispered. It was the only thing my mind could form at the moment. I took another drink. "Alright then, your turn." I looked at them.

"Why'd ye do it?" Connor asked.

"And why don't ye believe in God?" Murphy threw in.

Hooooooooo boy.

"Well, hmmm. Lets see, five years ago, I went with my little sister to the river. She was my step dad's daughter, but I loved her to death. She was five, and I was thirteen. She begged me to go. I mean, puppy dog face, whole kit and kabootle. So I took her, then she begged me to go look for skipping rocks by the water. So I let her do that too. I got cold, cuz it was September. So I turned around to grab my jacket. And I heard her scream. So I turned around, and the current had just freaking picked up all of a sudden, and it pulled her in. I ran in after her, and I swam for it, but I couldn't grab her. I tried so hard. I can still see her face sink beneath the waves." I took a deep breath, refusing to make eye contact with either of them. "By the time I got her back to shore, she was…gone. So gone. She wouldn't start breathing again. By that time, someone had seen and called 911, so we were carted onto an ambulance and rushed to the hospital. My mom and step dad met me there. Oh God it was awful, my mother dropped to the floor, sobbing, and my step dad, he was just, vacant. Empty. He loved his little girl so much. She was our princess.

"Time passed, and every year, my mom's burden lessened a little, and she slowly got back to normal, and Ian, my step dad, he seemed to be okay. But I wasn't getting better. I still cried every night. I felt so terrible, so guilty. Then, like five years later, I didn't cry. I couldn't cry. I felt even guiltier then before. So I took a razor to my wrist. A razor to my wrist for each unshed tear. That was my policy. My mom had no clue I'd started doing that, but I think Ian did. He didn't like encourage me or anything, but he didn't stop me either. So I don't know. Maybe he didn't have a clue. But I kept that up for almost two months before my mom got wise, she put me on some anti-depressants.

"Those made it so much worse, it was like swimming in cement, and I hated myself on them. More the I ever let on. I was ashamed of what I'd done. I'd killed my sister. I believed that. I got worse, I was given more pills. I think that's what tipped me over. Because the anniversary of my sister's death. I was so sick of living, that I tried to claw out my own vein." I took a shaky breath, and held out my exposed wrist the boys. "Got pretty damn close too. But mom came in, saw the blood, Ian held me down, and I was sent out to the Boston clinic." I shook my head. "And for the whole, not believing in God thing, I was mad. Were the angels that lonely? I mean, why the hell did they have to take my sister. She was fucking five. She had everything to live for. God's cruel." I snarled, animosity poisoning my every word. I had started shaking, and I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes shut, trying damn hard not to cry.

I felt four arms wrap me up in a hug and I leaned into them. Screw me over or not, these boys were my family, and I didn't want to lose them. Killers or not, crazy or not. Hell we had that in common it would appear. We spent a few beats in comfortable silence.

"Fuckin' Ransom" Murphy snickered.

"Shut it!" Connor ordered.

*Boss*

The boss sat has his desk, comtemplating his next step.

Something had gone wrong, the Saints had gotten one of their own. Somehow. Where were they getting their information? James was dead, Special Agent Smecker was in the dark. It didn't make any sense at all. He scratched his tattoed neck as Tank entered his office.

"We found something you might want to see." Tank handed boss a neatly folded piece of paper. "We found it next to Johnny's body. Before the police arrived."

So, the Saints had killed Johnny. Actually that was a relief. Johnny was as lower status as they could get. Apparently their information wasn't as good as he had originally thought.

But they had found them, and that stiill irked the Boss. He couldn't have his operation running in fear at their own shadow. If word of the Saints got out, they would be dropping what they had and bolting it back to England.

And he knew of some business partners that would be very pissed if they didn't get their drugs on time.

""Ave we found them yet?" Boss asked Tank, who merely shook his head.

"They've gone off the map. They vacated their apartment early this morning, and we can't find them."

"You'd better look 'arder. I don't want those two out of our sights for too long. That could be dangerous for us."

"I agree, I'll bring in Chelsea, maybe she can hunt them down. She has a knack for finding things that want to stay lost."

"That she does mate." Boss nodded. "Go to it then."

"Yes Boss." Tank headed toward the door.

"Wait, it's November first, right?" Boss asked, stopping Tank.

"Yes sir."

"Just asking." The Boss sighed. Tank continued out the door.

The Boss was beyond irked now. He couldn't decided if he should laugh or kill someone. All he knew in that instant was, A-he was going to kill the Saints, and B-He was going to rip them apart piece by piece first. He wanted them to beg him to kill them, beg him to end their lives.

And he knew just the way to do it.

All he had to do was find them first.

He set down the note on his desk.

The note, which read : "Happy All Saints Day."