"Never Let This Go" by Paramore

"You promise you'll call and write?" Romeo pouted, hugging me again. I laughed, hugging him a little tighter. He had decided to stay in Boston and work for his uncle. Connor, Murphy, and I, however, decided to head back to Ireland. I didn't want to stay in Boston any longer than necessary. Murphy didn't really seem to care where we were as long as he got to be with the kids and I. And I think Connor just wanted to stay with us. So back to Ireland.

"I promise," I smiled at him. "And you promise you'll come to Ireland, right?"

"I promise," he echoed, grinning. He then moved on to hug the boys, forcing them into a hug at the same time. They protested, loudly, but patted him on the back, looking a bit more teary-eyed than normal.

"Oh come on, ye big saps," Connor said, pretending to be a tough guy. Murphy shoved him lightly.

"The only sap I see is ye."

"Oh I'm gonna miss you guys," Romeo wailed, drawing all three of us into a hug.

"Way to go Connor, you big sap," I teased.

"I'm going to forever be outnumbered now," Connor said sadly.

"Yes, you probably are. We have to get going though, the boat's leaving in a few hours and you know how they get about stowaways being late."

"Yeah, yeah," the twins mumbled.

"You're going to be okay, Romeo?"

He sniffed. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

I smiled, pulling him into another hug. "You are always more than welcome to stay with us no matter where we are. Got it?"

"Got it. Don't go getting shot or kidnapped again."

"I can't make any promises. I seem to only get shot or kidnapped when I'm around them." The boys stopped gathering our bags long enough to let out a string of indignancies-most of which were just strings of profanity. Romeo and I laughed in return, causing them to grumble and resume their task.

The guns and ammunition had all been returned to the Irish arms dealer that we had gotten them from so that they could be destroyed and recycled. Except for Connor's fucking rope. That was packed in one of his bags. So we didn't have to worry about trying to smuggle them anywhere or dump them into the ocean or anything. (The boys had suggested it, but I protested loudly enough until they could be bothered to return them instead.) Romeo also opted to keep his guns.

And then we were in a taxi and travelling out of the city to the docks. Murphy and Connor were being overly sweet, which I both enjoyed and found equally annoying. I wasn't allowed to carry anything heavier than a gallon of milk according to them. (Even when I had called the doctor and she agreed that I was fine to carry a suitcase within reason. "Within reason" to the twins means almost nothing with as unreasonably stubborn as they are.)

Eventually I gave up trying to help at all and just secured us a decent spot to stay in for the next few days. The boys eventually made their way back with our things, collapsing on the floor from the effort.

"Would've been easier if ye weren't such an old man," Murphy grumbled at Connor.

"I'm only ten minutes older than ye!"

"So ye admit it isn't a big deal that ye're older?"

"Cecilia, stop rubbing off on Murphy."

"Hey, I did nothing. I'm just over here enjoying this nice comfortable cot," I shot back with a yawn.

"Ye're still a bad influence."

"I think ye're talking about yourself," Murphy countered, pushing himself up and off of the ground. He came over and laid on the cot with me, being careful not to crush me in the process. Connor, however, opted to remain on the ground for theatrics.

"He's going to love having kids around all the time," I laughed.

"Hey, I can hear ye," Connor replied indignantly. Murphy and I both laughed. Maybe I was imagining it, but they both seemed a lot more relaxed now that we were leaving Boston. I know I'm definitely a lot more relaxed by the thought of never seeing that fucking city again in my life.

As the ship began to pull out into the ocean, I drifted off to sleep feeling much more at peace than the last time I left.

"Cecilia, sleepyhead, wake up," a gentle voice called to me from the darkness. I groaned.

"Five more minutes," I snuggled into the bed, pulling the comforter up over my shoulder.

The voice laughed. I felt the mattress compress beside me as someone smoothed my hair back from my face. Disgruntled, I opened my eyes. My dad was sitting there beside me, smiling down at me lovingly. He looked just like I remembered him. As gracefully as I could, I threw myself at him. He felt solid. Real. But this had to be a dream.

"It is a dream, love, but that doesn't make it less real," he whispered as he hugged me closer to him. I didn't want to let go of him in case I woke up. "I am so proud of you, Cecilia." He pulled away slightly to kiss my forehead, cupping the side of my face with his hand. "Ye've looked after yer mum so well. Even when she didn't make that easy."

"You know how mom is." He laughed.

"Trust me, I know how ye mom is." He put his hand on my stomach. "Ye're a good mum. And ye'll still be a good mum after they're born. And Murphy'll be a good da. You just have to let him figure out how first."

I laughed. "That does sound like me."

"He's a good guy. Reminds me of someone."

"Probably yourself," I rolled my eyes. He laughed. "You'd have liked him. Connor, too."

"I do like them. I watch everything ye do."

"I keep trying to tell her that but she never fucking listens to me!" Rocco grinned, throwing himself onto me for a hug. Dad laughed.

"Rocco!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm still around. Your dad is a fucking funny guy. I know where you get it from now."

I rolled my eyes but I couldn't stop smiling as I held their hands. I didn't want to wake up, but I knew that I had to.

"Ye can't stay here forever," my dad nodded with a chuckle.

"I know but five more minutes?"

He kissed my forehead while Rocco kissed my cheek.

My eyes flew open into the darkness. I was crying. Murphy was sitting up and looking so concerned. Instead of trying to explain, I let out a sob and threw myself at him, crying my eyes out.

"Is she okay?" Connor asked sleepily from the nearby cot.

"I have no idea," Murphy answered honestly, rubbing my back. Eventually I stopped trying to explain until I was done. After a few minutes of silence, Murphy stopped rubbing my back and looked down at me. "Are ye okay?"

"I had a dream about Rocco and my dad." I teared up again, missing them terribly and thinking of how unfair it was that they weren't still here. Hastily, I tried to rub the tears away before they started again. Murphy pulled me back into his chest and wrapped his arms around me to comfort me. As calmly as I could I began to explain my dream. The boys listened quietly. "I know, it sounds crazy. But it felt so real."

"It's as real as anything else," Connor spoke finally. "We have dreams like that about our mother all the time. She just pops in to say hello and give us a scolding if we need it."

"Or deserve it," Murphy added, rubbing my back lightly. "She's fond of you."

"Dad's fond of you, too. And Connor," I added.

"'Course he is, we're fecking brilliant," Connor declared. "Now go back to sleep. The old men are tired."

Murphy shook his head while I tried not to laugh. I laid back down and Murphy wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to him. As I fell asleep, my heart felt just a little bit lighter.