Chapter 51: I Cry, When Angels Deserve to Die

(System of a Down)

Connor saw her first when he finally got up on his feet.

"Tin', how did ye-" He was cut by the haggard look on her face.

He followed her gaze to Rocco's body, then back to her and, defeated, to the ground.

"I'm sorry, I tried to stop them but…" his voice broke.

He shyly glanced at his father as if he was ashamed of his weakness, but the older man laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry for yer loss, my sons."

Murphy was only able to raise his hanging head at the sound of the old man's voice. He shakily got on his feet in turn, when he finally spotted Aideen and his whole body wobbled. She ran to catch him, wanting to engulf him in her embrace; however, he stopped her by grabbing her shoulder to straighten himself up. They looked at each other with the same distress in their eyes, though she understood it was not the time for self-pity.

"We need to clean this place up and leave, boys." Noah said in a soft voice, but with enough authority that it wouldn't be called into question. And it was probably what they all needed at the moment.

They sprayed the whole room in ammonia before casting a last look toward their friend. Connor made the sign of the cross above his body again, then turned away with his jaw clenched. Murphy remained unmoving, unable to say anything nor leave, until Aideen took his hand to pull him away.

It was only once they were out of there, that the twins glanced at each other, then at the older man that was leading them out. Connor opened his mouth to say something, when Noah and Aideen realised the blond woman that was passed out on a chair had disappeared. In fact, she was standing a few feet away…with her hair in her hands.

"Smecker?" Connor frowned, unsure he was recognising the man behind the make-up.

Aideen's eyes widened in surprise; she'd had no idea it was him.

"Who…" the agent started, staring at Noah. "Is that the…"

"Aye, he is. Don't worry though." Connor glimpsed at his father to make sure: "He is with us now."

"Indeed, I am." Noah confirmed, and both the twins let out an unconscious sigh of relief.

Smecker then observed Aideen: "And that's our fourth musketeer, am I right?" He immediately knew, at the slightly panicked expression on the boys' faces, that she was the one who had spilled the coffee on the first scene, the one that had rung the backdoor of the peep-show so that the girl had opened without concern. Murphy was holding her hand as if his life depended on it, while Connor took a step in front of her, as if to shield her from the agent's inspection.

"And where's the cowboy?" he inquired ironically, then realised instantly that he had made a serious blunder.

"He's downstairs," Noah answered in a sharp tone.

"Will ye take care of it?" Connor asked quietly.

Smecker nodded.

"Yakavetta ran," Connor continued, "we might need ye to find him again."

"He'll probably hide…" Smecker mused, but Noah intervened:

"Then, get him in court, for any reason. That'll force the lad out."

"We're not leaving until he's taken care of." Connor stated. There was so much hatred in his voice that there was no discussion possible. "We'll call ye," he added.

As they made their way to the exit, Murphy stopped:

"Will ye tell Rocco's ma that he did good? In the end. He wasn't like these other crooks; he was a good man."

"I will." Smecker promised, and Aideen thanked him with a silent nod.

Once in the street, Noah turned to them: "I have a safehouse not too far outside the city that no one knows about. It's quite dusty, but we can dwell out there for now." He waited, then, since the three of them were too dazed to answer: "So, follow me," he added while walking to his car.

The other three got into their van without even thinking. It felt quiet and grim without Rocco to ramble nonsense in the back seat. As Aideen got the key in the ignition, she turned to the twins for confirmation, and they finally all glanced at each other.

"Do ye think we should go?" Connor asked. He had never felt so unsure. Of anything.

Aideen turned to Murphy, and for a second, she discerned a little panic there, as if he dreaded that they wouldn't. She came to his rescue: "It's yer da, Conn'. There's no doubt about that. Of course we should go."

"It's just… He tried to kill us. He fucking knocked ye out, for Christ's sake…"

"He had no idea who ye were. But, I mean, ye don't have to like him; I just think ye can trust him now."

Noah's car drove out, so Aideen checked one final time with the boys, only to follow when they both nodded.

The ride was dead silent.

The house was small, almost empty, and unkept. With only one bedroom up the stairs, a large reading chair in a corner by the window, and a small bathroom. The living room and small kitchen on the first floor looked like an armoury. The narrow garden was enclosed in high walls covered with ivy, so no one could see inside.

"The lady'll take the bedroom," Noah grumbled, "ye can go wash up upstairs while I find some food." He seemed self-assured, but as he walked out, Aideen figured he must have had no idea of what they were supposed to do either.

She went to find ice in the kitchen freezer, crushed two bags and brought them back to the twins. Though neither of them was even watching her.

Connor was pacing in circles, unapproachable in his understandable dismay. He would open up later, she thought, while she took Murphy's unharmed hand.

"C'mere, I'll take care of that thumb." She led him to the bathroom; she had kept the bandages in her backpack.

There, she softly pulled off his black turtleneck, grateful the colour didn't display all the blood that must have drenched it. Still, she winced at the purple bruises on his ribs. She cleaned up his face and neck, and he let her do it. All strength or will seemed to have deserted him. She took his left hand carefully; it didn't look broken, but he probably needed X-rays. In the meantime, she immobilised it as best she could. He didn't even seem to feel the pain. He was completely numb.

"It wasn't yer fault, ye know." She tried to get through to him. And she thought that it had worked when he finally raised his eyes to meet hers.

"What a fucking stupid thing to say."

For a second, she believed she had heard him wrong.

"What-"

"Of course it was my fault! Connor didn't even want him with us in the first place; I had to convince him to let him come! Then he lost a fucking finger and I still didn't realise how fucking stupid we were!"

"Murphy, stop, ye-" she couldn't stand to see him like this. Yelling and pacing with tears in his eyes. But he kept going in a croaky voice:

"The fucking bastard killed him because he thought the whole thing was his idea! It should have been me! Rocco would never have gone there if it weren't for us…"

She shuddered at his world. It should have been me. She couldn't believe how close she had been to lose all three of them. But she had to pull herself together, for him. She tried to reason:

"Rocco would have died at the Plaza if it weren't for ye-"

"So what? We saved him once, killed him once, so it evens out?"

"Murph, please-"

"Don't fucking start! Ye don't fucking care that he died!"

"Hey, that's not true!" She was trying to remain calm; she understood that he was just processing his grief, but he was starting to get on her nerves. Then he stopped pacing for a second to watch her:

"Look me in the eyes and tell me ye're not glad it was him instead of us."

She froze. "Come on, Murph, that's not fair…"

"Get the fuck out of here."

He was fuming. For a second, she was afraid he would hit her, and she flinched. But she quickly straightened up. This was still Murphy; he would never hurt her. Right?

"Not until ye've calmed down," she tried, afraid that, maybe, he would hurt himself.

"I said, leave me the fuck alone!" and he threw his fist toward her.

She dodged, though he wasn't trying to hit her; he punched the pharmacy cabinet on her left. The mirror exploded. Bits and pieces of glass were projected on the side of her face, and the whole thing crashed on her shoulder.

She yelped in pain. Which sufficed to make him pause, his eyes wide in shock.

"Fuck, Tine, I'm s-"

But he was interrupted by a clasping hand on his shoulder that forced him to turn on his heels.

And Connor's fist connected with his face.